Chapter 63
Aria pov
“Thank you for the ride,” I said as we pulled into the circular driveway.
“Aria, wait p>
I paused, my hand on the door handle.
“I meant what I said at the press conference.” He turned to face me fully. “Every word. And I know actions matter more than words, so I’m going to prove it. Every single day, I’m going to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m worthy of you p>
“And if you never become worthy?” I asked. “If I never forgive you? What then p>
“Then I’ll spend my life loving you anyway.” His eyes held mine. “Even if it’s from a distance. Even if all I ever get is being Noah’s father and watching you be happy with someone else. Because loving you isn’t conditional on you loving me back p>
The sincerity in his voice undid me completely.
Before I could think better of it, I leaned across the console and kissed him.
It was brief, barely a brush of lips. But it held years of pain and longing and confusion. When I pulled back, his eyes were wide with shock.
“Don’t read into that,” I said quickly, opening the door. “It doesn’t mean anything p>
“Aria”
“Goodnight, Damien p>
I stepped out of the car before he could respond, before I could change my mind and kiss him again. The security lights blazed as I walked toward the entrance, guards stationed at every corner of the property.
We entered the house together, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words. The foyer stretched before us—massive, cold, expensive. His domain. The place where I was a guest, no matter how long Noah and I stayed.
“I’ll be in the east wing if you need anything,” Damien said quietly, not quite meeting my eyes.
I nodded. We’d established this arrangement when we moved in—he stayed in the east wing, Noah and I in the west. Separate floors when possible, separate lives under the same roof. It was the only way I could agree to stay here.
“Goodnight,” I said again, softer this time.
He hesitated, like he wanted to say more, then turned and headed toward his side of the house. I watched him go, then kicked off my heels and padded toward the west wing staircase.
Noah’s room was on the second floor, down a long hallway lined with expensive art I’d never bothered to examine. I pushed open his door quietly.
He was asleep, his stuffed rabbit clutched to his chest. I stood in the doorway, watching his chest rise and fall, and felt the familiar surge of protective love.
Everything I did, I did for him. The empire, the revenge, even staying in Damien’s house—all of it was to keep Noah safe.
But what about what I wanted? What about my heart?
My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
I enjoyed watching the show tonight. You and Damien in the car—very touching. It almost makes me want to vomit.
My blood froze.
Another text came through immediately.
But don’t worry. Soon you won’t have to choose between the men in your life. Because I’m going to take that choice away from you. Sweet dreams, sister-in-law.
Marcus.
He’d been watching. Again. I ran to the window, scanning the grounds below. Nothing. Just guards patrolling, cars parked normally.
But he was out there somewhere. I pulled up Damien’s number, my hands shaking.
He answered immediately. “What’s wrong p>
“He’s watching us.” I kept my voice low so I wouldn’t wake Noah. “Marcus just texted me. He saw us in the car p>
“I’m on my way to you p>
“No, we agreed—separate wings, boundaries”
“That was before my psychotic brother started threatening you again.” I heard his footsteps through the phone, quick and determined. “I’m coming to you, and I’m staying close tonight. We can argue about boundaries later p>
The line went dead. I should be angry. Should insist on space and independence. But I was terrified. And having Damien close, having someone else watching for threats, made me feel marginally safer.
He appeared at Noah’s door less than a minute later—he must have run through the connecting hallways. Still in his dress shirt and slacks, slightly disheveled, eyes sharp with alarm.
“Show me the texts,” he said without preamble.
I handed him my phone. Watched his face darken as he read Marcus’s words.
“He was watching the restaurant.” Damien’s voice was tight with fury. “He saw us leave, saw us in the car. Son of a bitch has been following us all night p>
“What do we do p>
“We call the FBI.” He pulled out his own phone. “This is a direct threat. They need to know p>
While he made the call, I went back to watching Noah sleep. So innocent, so vulnerable. Marcus could get to him so easily, despite all the security.
The thought made me sick.
Damien finished his call and came to stand beside me. “FBI is on their way. They’ll want to see the texts, ask questions p>
“Okay.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m scared, Damien. What if Marcus gets past security again? What if he hurts Noah p>
“He won’t.” Damien’s hand found the small of my back, warm and solid. “I won’t let him. I’ll die before I let anyone hurt our son p>
“You can’t promise that p>
“Watch me.” He turned me to face him, his hands on my shoulders. “Aria, listen to me. Marcus wants to hurt me by taking you and Noah. But he’s underestimating how far I’ll go to protect you. There is no line I won’t cross, no rule I won’t break. If keeping you safe means becoming a monster, then I’ll become a monster p>
The intensity in his eyes should have scared me. Instead, it made me feel safer than I had in days.
“Stay tonight,” I said quietly. “Not in my room, but close by. In this wing p>
“I’ll sleep outside Noah’s door if you want p>
“The guest room down the hall is fine.” I managed a small smile. “You’ll be useless protecting us if you don’t sleep p>
“Fair point.” His hands lingered on my shoulders for a moment before dropping. “Thank you for trusting me with this p>
“I don’t have much choice.” I say. “You’re his father, you have a right to protect him p>
“And you.” His eyes held mine. “I have a right to protect you too, Aria. Whether you want me to or not p>
Before I could respond, the doorbell rang downstairs. The FBI had arrived.
The next hour was a blur of questions, photos of the texts, security footage reviews. Agent Harry, a middle-aged man with a bored expression, took my statement while his partner worked with Damien.
It was annoying enough that Agent Sarah, the FBI agent who actually knew about our case, had been transferred temporarily. Now I had to deal with someone who acted like this was just another Tuesday night call.
“Ms. Monroe, has Marcus Blackwood made any previous contact with you?” Harry’s pen hovered lazily over his notepad, like he was filling out a routine traffic report.
“Yes, he has.” I showed him my phone, frustration bleeding into my voice. “But he’s been watching us. He was in this house a few nights ago, in Noah’s room while we slept p>
Harry barely glanced at the screen. “Uh-huh. And you’re sure it was him p>
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Security footage from that night?” He asked it like he already knew the answer and didn’t particularly care.
“Mysteriously corrupted.” Damien appeared behind me, his own irritation evident. “He’s good at covering his tracks p>
“Right.” Harry scribbled something down without much interest. “Well, we’ll look into it”
“You’ll look into it?” I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice. “A dangerous man threatened my son, broke into our home, and you’re going to look into it p>
Before Harry could respond with what I was sure would be another maddeningly casual reply, the front door opened again.
Agent Martha strode in, a stern woman in her forties with sharp eyes that took in the scene immediately. She wore a no-nonsense expression and moved with purpose—everything Harry wasn’t.
“Agent Harry,” she said crisply, “I’ll take it from here p>
Harry looked relieved to be dismissed. He handed over his notepad and practically fled to join his partner across the room.
Martha turned to me, her demeanor completely different. “Ms. Monroe, I apologize for my colleague. I’m Agent Martha. I’ve been fully briefed on your case and Marcus Blackwood’s pattern of behavior.” She pulled out her own notepad, her pen poised with actual intent. “Now, let’s start over. Tell me everything about tonight’s contact p>
The difference was night and day. I felt myself relax slightly as I walked her through the texts, the timing, Marcus’s words.
Martha’s expression tightened as she reviewed the messages on my phone. “And the security footage from the break-in p>
“Corrupted,” Damien confirmed, standing close behind me.
“Too good.” Martha closed her notepad, her jaw set. “Mr. Blackwood, I’m going to be frank. Your brother is escalating. The kidnapping, the break-in, now the direct threats—he’s building to something bigger. And we need to catch him before he acts p>
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
“Bait.” She looked between us. “We use you to draw him out. Set up a situation where he thinks he has an opportunity to strike, but we’re ready for him p>
“Absolutely not.” Damien’s voice was sharp. “You’re not using Aria as bait p>
“It might be our best chance”
“I said no.” He moved between Martha and me, protective. “Find another way p>
“Damien.” I touched his arm. “Let her finish p>
“There’s nothing to finish.” He turned to me. “I’m not risking you. End of discussion p>
“It’s not your decision to make p>
“The hell it isn’t. You’re Noah’s mother. If something happens to you” His voice cracked. “I can’t lose you, Aria. Not again p>
The raw emotion in his words stopped me cold.
Martha cleared her throat. “I’ll leave you two to discuss it. But Ms. Monroe, if you’re willing to help us catch Marcus, we can keep you safe. We’re professionals p>