Chapter 72
Aria’s POV – Next Morning
I woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar floor-to-ceiling windows and a moment of complete disorientation.
This wasn’t my bed, it wasn’t the room I was familiar with. The mattress was too perfect, the view too breathtaking.
Then it all came flooding back. Marcus. The threats, moving into Damien’s new penthouse for safety.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. 7:23 AM. Noah would be up soon, if he wasn’t already.
I threw on the robe someone had laid out for me—and padded out into the hallway.
The smell of bacon hit me first. Then Noah’s laughter, bright and carefree. I followed the sounds to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.
Damien stood at the stove, wearing jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that did absolutely unfair things to his shoulders. Noah sat on the counter beside him, wearing superhero pajamas, chattering away while Damien cooked.
“And then Mr. Hoppy said we need a swimming pool!” Noah waved his stuffed rabbit enthusiastically. “For the friend rabbits p>
“A swimming pool for rabbits.” Damien flipped bacon with surprising competence. “That’s very ambitious p>
“What’s am-bish-us p>
“It means you dream big.” Damien ruffled his hair. “Which is good. Always dream big, buddy p>
“Do you dream big, Daddy p>
Damien’s hand stilled for just a second. “I’m starting to p>
“What do you dream about p>
“About having breakfast with you and your mama every morning.” He glanced up and caught me watching. “Speaking of which. Good morning p>
“Morning.” I moved into the kitchen, hyper-aware of how domestic this all felt. “You cook? I never knew you could prepare anything apart from pancakes”
“I’m learning.” He gestured to the bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast spread across the counter. “I figured we should all eat together. Like a family p>
That word again. Family.
“Mama!” Noah bounced on the counter. “Daddy made eggs! And bacon! And toast with the crusts cut off p>
“I see that.” I poured myself coffee from the pot Damien had already made. “Very impressive p>
“I had help.” Damien pulled up a cooking video on his phone propped against the backsplash. “YouTube is very educational p>
Despite everything, I smiled. “The great Damien Blackwood learning to cook from YouTube p>
“The great Damien Blackwood will do whatever it takes.” His eyes met mine over Noah’s head. “Even if it means admitting he doesn’t know everything p>
The moment stretched between us, loaded with meaning.
“Daddy, the bacon’s smoking!” Noah pointed at the pan.
“Shit” Damien caught himself. “I mean, shoot.” He quickly pulled the pan off the heat. “Okay, maybe slightly burned bacon p>
“I like it burned!” Noah declared loyally.
“You’re a good kid.” Damien scooped him off the counter. “Come on, let’s eat before Mama realizes I’m a terrible cook p>
We settled at the dining table—an enormous thing that probably sat twelve but felt oddly intimate with just the three of us at one end. Noah dug into his breakfast with enthusiasm while Damien and I picked at ours.
“I have meetings today.” I sipped my coffee. “Conference calls I can’t reschedule p>
“Do them from here.” Damien gestured around. “I’ve got three offices you can use, take your pick p>
“Damien”
“Aria, please.” He set down his fork. “Just for a few days. Until we figure out Marcus’s next move p>
“And then what? We stay here indefinitely? Put our lives on hold p>
“If that’s what it takes to keep Noah safe, yes p>
I wanted to argue. I wanted to insist I could handle my own security, my own life. But the memory of that text—that photo of us in the parking lot—made my blood run cold.
“Fine.” I pushed eggs around my plate. “A few days. But I need to go to my house, get our things p>
“I’ll send someone”
“No.” My voice came out sharp. “I’m not hiding in your tower while other people live my life for me. I’ll go, I’ll pack, I’ll come back p>
“Then I’m coming with you p>
“Damien”
“Non-negotiable.” His jaw set in that stubborn line I was beginning to recognize. “You don’t go anywhere alone. Not while Marcus is out there p>
“What about me?” Noah looked between us, bacon forgotten. “Do I go too p>
“You,” Damien booped his nose, “stay here with Mrs Dora and play with all your new toys p>
“Who’s Mrs. Dora p>
“My new housekeeper, she makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the world p>
Noah’s eyes went wide. “Better than Mama’s p>
“Hey!” I protested. “My cookies are excellent p>
“Mrs. Dora is legendary.” Damien grinned. “But don’t tell your mom I said that p>
“I’m sitting right here.” I muttered. “I should ask—your last housekeeper was Dorathy. Do you have a thing for women whose names start with Dora p>
Damien burst out laughing. “No. Dorathy travelled for her grandchild’s birthday, so I needed someone I trusted to fill in. And by coincidence, this one happens to be named Dora too.”He added casually, “And before you start overthinking, she’s married with kids p>
I scoffed. “Not like I care p>
Damien smirked. “Do I sense jealousy p>
I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my brain. “Please p>
Noah giggled and went back to his bacon. I glared at Damien over my coffee, but I was fighting a smile.
This. This was what I’d wanted years ago. This easy banter, this warmth, this feeling of being a unit instead of strangers.
“Finish your breakfast.” I stood abruptly. “I’ll be ready to leave in thirty minutes p>
“Aria”
But I was already walking away, unable to handle the domesticity of it all. The way it made me want things I couldn’t afford to want.
One Hour Later
My house looked exactly as I’d left it—neat, organized, impersonal. More of a showpiece than a home.
Damien’s security team had swept the place first, checking for bugs or tracking devices. They’d found three.
Three. Marcus had been inside my home, planting surveillance equipment.
“He’s been listening.” I stared at the tiny devices now sitting in evidence bags. “Watching, this whole time p>
“We’ll catch him.” Damien stood beside me, his hand on my back. “I promise, Aria. We’ll end this p>
I nodded numbly and headed upstairs to pack.
Noah’s room was a disaster of toys and scattered clothes. I started pulling outfits from his closet, folding them mechanically.
“He’s going to need his stuffed elephant.” Damien appeared in the doorway. “The grey one with the floppy ears. He was asking about it this morning p>
“You noticed that p>
“I notice everything about him.” He moved into the room, picking up toys. “What he likes, what scares him, what makes him laugh. I’ve got three years to make up for p>