Bound by One Night

Pier 27 lay shrouded in darkness and salt-tinged mist. The occasional creak of a boat's hull and the distant call of a night bird were the only sounds as Aria stepped gingerly across the worn wooden planks. A single lamppost cast a weak yellow circle of light amid the shadows of stacked cargo crates and abandoned fishing gear.

Aria drew her jacket tighter. The cold air off the water cut straight through the thin fabric, but it was nothing compared to the icy dread coiling in her stomach. She glanced at her phone: 8:58 PM. Victor would be here any minute, if he wasn't already lurking in some dark corner, watching her.

She swallowed, forcing herself to walk forward to the appointed spot under the lamppost. Every instinct screamed at her to turn and run, but she held her ground. For Noah. For Damien. This had to end.

A rustle of movement to her left made Aria jump. She spun toward the sound, heart pounding. "Hello?" she called, hating how small her voice sounded in the vast, empty night. "Victor... I'm here."

For a moment, only silence answered. Then, from behind a tower of wooden pallets, a tall figure emerged.

Victor Lancaster stepped leisurely into the lamplight, a smug smile already on his lips. He was dressed impeccably in a charcoal suit that seemed at odds with the grimy dock. His golden-blond hair gleamed in the low light, and his blue eyes fixed on Aria with predatory amusement.

"Aria," he greeted smoothly, drawing out her name as he approached. "Right on time. I knew our little mouse would come scurrying."

Her spine stiffened at his condescending tone. She had almost forgotten how much she despised that voice—oily charm over steel. "You gave me no choice," Aria replied, willing her voice not to tremble. "What do you want, Victor? You've made your point by contacting me... by leaking those hints to the press. Why are you doing this?"

Victor stopped a few paces from her, hands in his trouser pockets. Up close, Aria could see the years had refined his handsome features into something sharper, colder. The boyish fiancé she remembered was gone; in his place stood a man who clearly enjoyed her fear.

"Why?" he echoed, feigning surprise. "Isn't it obvious? I want compensation. You owe me for what you did." His tone hardened. "For leaving me like a fool all those years ago."

Aria's nails bit into her palms. "I don't owe you anything," she said, quieter than she intended. "We both know why I left."

At that, Victor's smile twisted. "Yes, we do." He took a step, forcing Aria to either hold her ground or retreat. She refused to budge, lifting her chin even as her heart hammered.

"You ran away without a word," Victor continued, voice dropping to a hiss. "Made a fool of me and your dear daddy. Do you have any idea what I went through after you vanished? The scandal? The questions?"

"I'm sorry for hurting you," Aria said quietly. And she was, in part. "But I had to leave, Victor. You know I had to." She tried to keep her tone measured, but memories were surfacing: arguments with her father, Victor's tightening control, the night she realized she was pregnant and nothing would ever be the same.

Victor's eyes flashed. He began to circle her slowly, like a shark with prey. "Had to leave," he murmured. "Because of him, wasn't it? The mystery man you spread your legs for while you were promised to me."

Aria felt the blood drain from her face. He knew—perhaps not who, but he knew about the pregnancy back then. She had never admitted why she broke the engagement, even as Victor's fury and her father's threats rained down. But he must have put the pieces together later, or her father had told him once Noah was born in secret.

"This isn't about that," Aria managed. "There's nothing to be gained digging up the past. I'm willing to repay the money you gave me for the wedding—"

He barked a laugh, cutting her off. "Money? You think I called you out here for mere money?" He shook his head. "Certainly, you'll be paying me, but not just in cash."

A new sliver of fear slid down her spine. "What do you mean?"

Victor stopped directly in front of her. He was a head taller, forcing Aria to tilt her chin up. The lamplight cast half his face in shadow, making his grin all the more menacing. "It's simple. You have a new life now—a rich husband, a cute little son, luxury at your fingertips." His voice turned to ice. "I want a piece of it. Think of it as restitution for the life and reputation you stole from me."

Aria's stomach churned. "If you're expecting me to just hand you money—Damien's money—"

"Damien," Victor repeated, practically purring the name. "Quite the catch you found for yourself after slumming it under an alias all these years." He leaned in slightly. "Does he even know who you really are, Aria Lancaster? Or have you only shown him meek little Aria Williams, the nobody designer?"

Her throat closed up. "He knows enough," she managed, hoping that was true. In reality, Damien didn't know nearly everything—by her own fault. And Victor was reveling in it.

Victor chuckled, clearly pleased by her reaction. "Here are my terms," he said, as casually as if discussing the weather. "You will deliver to me two million dollars. In cash. I'll arrange the specifics of the drop later. In return, I will quietly disappear from your happy little fairy tale. The press will lose interest; your secrets will stay buried."

Two million. Aria's breath caught. It was an astronomical sum—one she absolutely didn't have. Even with her modest savings and the stipend Damien provided for personal expenses, it would take many lifetimes to gather that amount. "That's impossible," she said, voice cracking. "I... I don't have that kind of money, Victor."

"Your husband does," Victor interrupted smoothly, eyes glinting. "And you will get it from him. One way or another. Or else..." He let the threat hang, smiling when she flinched.

Aria's chest constricted. "Or else you'll tell the world what? That I ran away and changed my name? That I had a child out of wedlock?" Her voice rose with each question, years of pent-up fear and frustration bubbling over. "Go ahead, Victor! It seems you've already started!"

Her sudden defiance wiped the smirk off Victor's face. He stepped closer, anger darkening his features. "Careful," he warned softly. "Don't forget who holds the cards here. The world will devour you if the truth comes out my way. What will your dear Damien think? His board? High society loves a scandal—an heiress in hiding with an illegitimate child... Your little dream life would shatter."

Aria's eyes burned. She hated how right he was. Damien might stand by her, but the fallout would be immense—for both of them. His company's reputation, Noah's privacy... everything would become tabloid fodder. And her father—if he learned about Noah—God, she couldn't even imagine that confrontation.

Seeing her silence, Victor smiled again. "That's more like it. Now, I'm feeling generous tonight. You have one week, Aria. One week to get me what I want. Fail, and I will rain destruction on your life so thoroughly you'll wish you never crawled out of whatever hole you've been hiding in."

One week. Aria felt like she might collapse. She braced a hand against a piling to steady herself. "How do I know you won't just keep coming back for more?" she whispered. "What's to stop you from bleeding us dry?"

Victor tilted his head. "Perhaps I will return from time to time. Consider it an ongoing insurance fee. And if you're thinking of running again or confessing all to hubby hoping he can save you—" He wagged a finger when she glanced up sharply. "—don't. The minute I suspect a double-cross, I'll release everything. Understood?"

Aria tasted bile. This was a nightmare. She had walked into a trap with no escape. Still, she forced herself to meet Victor's gaze with all the resolve she could muster. "Understood," she said tightly. "Now get out of my way."

Victor arched a brow at her tone. For an instant, something like admiration flickered in his eyes. Then he chuckled. "There's that Lancaster fire. Gerald would be proud." He stepped closer and dared to brush a strand of her hair back, a mockery of a tender gesture.

Aria jerked away, stomach twisting in revulsion. "Don't touch me," she spat.

Victor's lip curled. "Such loyalty to your new man. Tell me, does Blackwood know he's raising another man's bastard? Or did you spin him some tale—"

"He's Noah's father," Aria snapped, voice shaking with anger at the insult.

Victor blinked, clearly caught off guard. It was rare to see him at a loss for words. "Is that so," he said after a beat, a slow grin spreading. "Well, well. Isn't this interesting?"

Aria cursed herself inwardly. She hadn't meant to reveal that; she'd just been unable to stomach Victor speaking of Noah that way. Now his mind was no doubt whirring with new possibilities and leverage.

Before he could say anything else, Aria stepped back. "This conversation is over. I'll do what you want. Just... stay away from us, Victor."

For a moment, he said nothing, eyes glinting with triumph. Then he nodded graciously, as if she'd given him a gift. "Smart girl. I'll be in touch with instructions." With that, he turned on his heel and strolled off into the darkness.

Aria watched him disappear the way he'd come. Only once she was sure he was gone did she allow herself to sag against the wooden piling, knees weak.

She sucked in a shaky breath, then another. Her cheek still burned where he'd touched her. Everything inside her screamed that this was spiraling out of control. How was she going to find a way out of this? Tell Damien everything? Could she summon the courage, knowing what it might cost?

A strangled sob rose in her throat, but she clapped a hand over her mouth, forcing it down. Crying would solve nothing. She needed to think.

Unbeknownst to Aria, concealed behind a stack of crates, Damien slowly lowered the phone he'd nearly used to call for help. His blood roared in his ears as he processed what he'd seen just yards away: some man touching Aria's face and speaking far too intimately to her. He'd caught only fragments of their exchange—enough to know it was about secrets and Noah—but not enough to truly understand.

Why had Aria told this stranger about Noah's parentage, like it was some confession? Damien's chest burned with confusion and hurt.

He'd been poised to leap out and protect her, but something in her demeanor held him back. She hadn't called for help; she had chosen to meet this man alone. The realization cut deep.

His every protective impulse screamed to go to her. But a darker feeling—hurt—kept his feet rooted. She'd met this man in secret, lied to his face, and clearly trusted a stranger more than her own husband with the truth.

Damien's mind churned with vicious possibilities: an ex-lover, a past scandal, something that made her believe she couldn't trust him. As Aria finally pushed off the post and started unsteadily back down the pier, Damien retreated further into the shadows. He couldn't confront her now—not while his emotions raged and confusion clouded his mind. Not when she still didn't trust him enough to ask for his help.

Jaw clenched, Damien turned and made his way back to where he'd parked down the road. One thing was certain: by the time the sun rose, he would have answers. If Aria wouldn't tell him the truth, he'd find it himself.

For now, he rushed to beat her home, to pretend he never left, and to see if she would come clean on her own. If not... their reckoning was near.