CHAPTER 6: MORNING AFTER

Aria woke up in Damian's bed. Not hers. His. The pillows were silk. The sheets were probably Egyptian cotton or something that cost more than she'd made in a month.

Everything smelled like him—something dark and expensive and dangerous.

She sat up slowly. Her head didn't hurt. Her body didn't hurt. But something inside her felt broken in a new way. The kind of broken that came with wanting something you shouldn't want.

She pulled on the robe that hung on the chair. It was his. Way too big. She swam in it.

The penthouse was quiet. Aria walked through the hallway, past floor-to-ceiling windows that showed Manhattan waking up. Downtown. Uptown. Bridges connecting one island to another.

She found Damian in his study. He was on the phone. The sun was just starting to paint the sky gold, which meant he'd been awake all night.

"I don't care what it takes," he was saying. His voice was cold. Sharp.

"Find the leak. Someone in my circle told my uncle about the wedding before I made the announcement. Find out who. And when you find them, bring them to me."

He hung up.

Then he saw her. His whole face changed. Just for a second. His eyes dropped down her body in his robe. His jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to do something. Say something. Then his mask slid back on.

"You're up early," he said.

"You're awake," she said back. "You haven't slept."

"I had things to handle."

Aria walked into the study. The desk was huge. Dark wood. Papers spread across it. Some had photographs. Some had documents she couldn't read from this angle.

"What happened last night?" she asked.

"We got married. We went to a charity gala. We came home."

"That's not what I mean."

Damian stood. He walked to the window and looked out at the city.

"We should set some boundaries."

"Boundaries?" Aria moved closer.

"You kissed me like you meant it."

"I did mean it. It was strategic."

"You're lying."

He turned so fast she almost stepped back. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't act like you know me. You've known me for less than a day. You don't know anything about me."

Aria kept her voice steady. "I know you orchestrated my entire fall. I know you watched me for months. I know you have people who can make people disappear. I know you're willing to use me against your enemies. I know you're scared of something. Or someone."

Damian's jaw worked. He didn't say anything.

"I know," Aria continued, "that kiss wasn't strategy. Because if it was, you wouldn't be avoiding looking at me right now."

He turned away from her. "That kiss was a mistake."

"Bullshit." His head snapped back. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. That kiss was real, and you're terrified of that." She walked closer to him.

"So you're going to push me away and tell me we need boundaries and pretend that what happened last night didn't happen."

"It can't happen again."

"Why?"

"Because," Damian said, his voice dropping to something dangerous,

"my enemies will use you against me. A wife is a liability. A wife I care about is a weakness. And I don't have weaknesses."

"Yet here you are. Married to me."

"That's different. That's a strategic decision."

"And what about the kiss?" Aria asked quietly. "Was that strategic too?"

Damian didn't answer.

"That's what I thought," she said and turned to leave.

"Aria, wait."

She stopped at the door but didn't turn around.

"This is harder with you like this," he said quietly. His voice sounded tired. Like he'd been carrying something heavy for a very long time.

"This is easier if we don't talk. If we don't acknowledge what happened."

She turned back to face him.

"Easier for who?" she asked.

"For both of us."

"I don't want easy," Aria said. "I'm already living a lie. I married a stranger. I'm pretending to love you. The least you can do is stop pretending you didn't feel that kiss."

Damian looked at her for a long time. His dark eyes were impossible to read. But she could see something shifting in them. Like walls were cracking.

"You need to understand something," he said finally.

"I brought you into this world to use you. That hasn't changed. Everything I do, I do to protect myself and my interests. If being with you serves that purpose, I'm with you. If it doesn't, I'm not. That's how I survive."

Aria felt that land in her chest. "So the kiss—"

"Served a purpose. Made the narrative stronger. Made our marriage look real."

"And if I believe that," she said, "then you're right. I don't know you."

She left before he could answer.

In her room, she sat on the bed and held herself together. Because she could feel it—the moment when she'd decided to stop protecting her heart. The moment when she'd believed him when he said the kiss was real.

And the moment when she'd been wrong.