Chapter 91
Aria’s POV – Three Days Later
I was reviewing acquisition reports when my assistant buzzed through.
“Ms. Monroe? Lucas Hayes is here to see you.” Her voice held a knowing edge. “He has flowers p>
My fingers stopped on the keyboard. I stared at the screen without seeing the numbers anymore. The last time Lucas had shown up uninvited, I’d had to slap him to make him leave.
“Ms. Monroe p>
I pressed my palms flat against the cool desk surface. “Send him in p>
A moment later, Lucas walked into my office carrying a bouquet of white roses—my favorite. The scent hit me before he even reached my desk, sweet and cloying. It made my stomach turn slightly. He wore a charcoal suit that fit him perfectly, but his smile seemed more careful than warm. The easy confidence from before was gone, replaced by something that looked almost like shame.
“Aria.” He set the flowers on my desk. The cellophane crackled loud in the quiet office. “Peace offering for the awkwardness last time p>
I didn’t touch them. “Lucas.” I gestured to the chair across from me, keeping my hands visible, folded on the desk. “You didn’t need to do that p>
“I know.” He sat slowly, like he was approaching something fragile. He didn’t cross his ankle over his knee with his usual casualness. Instead he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But I wanted to. I value our professional relationship, and I don’t want things to be weird between us p>
The air conditioning hummed. Outside my window, traffic moved silently twenty floors below as I could hear my own breathing.
“They’re not weird.” I leaned back in my chair, putting more distance between us. The leather creaked under me. “You were honest and I appreciate that p>
“Even though I got shot down?” His smile didn’t reach his eyes this time. There was something tight around his mouth, like the words hurt to say.
“Especially because you got shot down.” I picked up the flowers, more to have something to do with my hands than anything else. The stems felt damp through the paper. The scent was overwhelming this close. “Most men would have carried an even deeper anger and grudge p>
“I’m not most men.” He paused. His jaw worked like he was chewing on something bitter. “Actually, I came here for another reason. The Sterling Foundation Gala is next Friday. It’s the biggest charity event of the season, and I have an extra ticket p>
My heart did a weird skip as the flowers suddenly felt heavy in my hands. “Lucas”
“Before you say no, hear me out.” He held up a hand. I noticed it trembled slightly before he steadied it. “It’s purely professional. Monroe Global should have representation there. Major investors, potential partners, everyone who’s anyone will be attending p>
I set the flowers down as they landed with a soft thud. “I can buy my own ticket p>
“True.” He tried for a grin but it looked more like a grimace. “But it’s more fun to go with someone who actually likes you. Plus, my company is sponsoring a table. You’d be doing me a favor p>
I studied him. Lucas was attractive, successful, and trying so hard to be kind. A few months ago, I might have said yes without hesitation. But that was before Damien started making pancakes with Noah, the smell of vanilla and butter filling the kitchen every morning, before I’d started noticing the way his eyes followed me across rooms.
The memory of Lucas’s hand gripping my arm flashed through my mind. The way he’d refused to leave until I’d made him. The red mark my palm had left on his cheek.
My throat felt tight. “It’s just business p>
“Just business.” He placed a hand over his heart. The gesture looked rehearsed. “Scout’s honor. Though if you happen to look devastatingly beautiful and make every other man in the room jealous, I won’t complain p>
I didn’t laugh this time as the silence stretched between us. I could hear the clock on my wall ticking, my computer fan whirring.
“You’re trouble,” I said finally, but the words came out flat.
“I’m fun.” He stood but the movement was too quick, like he wanted to leave before I could change my mind. “So is that a yes p>
I thought about Damien. About his jealous texts when I’d had dinner with Lucas. About the way his jaw had clenched when he’d seen us together, the muscle jumping under his skin. About how his hands had gripped my waist in the hallway, the heat of them burning through my shirt. About how satisfying it had been to see him lose that famous control.
The white roses stared at me as their scent made my head hurt.
“It’s a yes.” I made my decision, and something twisted in my gut. “Purely professional p>
“Purely professional,” he echoed but his eyes didn’t sparkle. They looked relieved, like he’d been bracing for rejection. “I’ll pick you up at seven p>
After he left, I stared at the white roses. The petals were perfect, not a bruise or brown edge on any of them. They probably cost a fortune. Guilt gnawed at my stomach.
I wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was a business event, Lucas had been clear this time—professional only. No more grabbing, no more refusing to leave.
So why did my skin feel too tight? Why did the office suddenly feel smaller?
My phone buzzed with a text from Damien.
How’s your morning going?
I stared at the screen. My thumb hovered over the keyboard, I could feel my pulse in my fingertips. Productive. Yours?
The reply came fast. Boring meetings. Missing Noah and you.
My chest tightened. He was being so open lately, so vulnerable. The Damien from years ago would have never admitted to missing anyone. That version of him had barely acknowledged I existed. It should have made me happy.
Instead, it made me want to push back, to test the limits of his patience. To see if this new version would crack under pressure, reveal the old Damien underneath. The white roses seemed to watch me as I typed. Lucas stopped by.
I watched the three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. I counted the seconds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
And?
He invited me to the Sterling Foundation Gala next Friday.
The dots took longer this time. I could almost see him, jaw clenched, fingers gripping his phone too hard. Probably pacing in his office, the city spread out behind him through those floor-to-ceiling windows.
What did you say?
I said yes.
My phone rang immediately, the vibration rattled me but I let it go to voicemail, and a small smile played on my lips. My heart was beating faster now. Not from fear but from something else. Something that felt dangerous and thrilling at the same time.
He called again, the phone buzzed angry and insistent and again.
Finally, I answered. “Yes p>
“The gala?” His voice was tight, barely controlled. I could hear the tension in it, like a wire pulled too taut. “You said yes p>
“It’s a professional event, Damien.” I kept my tone light, but my free hand was clenched into a fist under the desk. “Monroe Global should be represented p>
“I can take you p>
“You weren’t invited p>
“I can get an invitation.” He was definitely gritting his teeth. I could hear it in the way his words came out clipped and sharp. “I’m Damien Blackwood, I can get into any event in this city p>
“But Lucas already invited me.” I examined my nails, they needed a manicure. “And it would be rude to cancel p>
Silence stretched between us, i could hear him breathing. Could imagine his hand running through his hair, messing up that perfect style.
“Aria.” His voice dropped lower, darker but it sent a shiver down my spine that I tried to ignore. “What are you doing p>
“Going to a gala.” I smiled at the phone even though he couldn’t see me. “Why? Is there a problem p>
“You know there’s a problem.” Another pause, i heard something slam in the background—his hand against his desk, maybe. “You’re doing this on purpose p>
“Doing what p>
“Testing me.” He exhaled sharply, the sound crackled through the phone. “Seeing if I’ll lose control. If I get jealous and possessive and prove I haven’t changed p>
My smile faded. The white roses blurred slightly, he was too perceptive. Always had been, when he bothered to pay attention.
“Maybe I am,” I admitted but my voice came out quieter than I intended. “Or maybe I just want to go to a gala with someone who actually wants to be seen with me p>
“I want to be seen with you.” His voice turned fierce. I could feel the intensity of it through the phone, hot and overwhelming. “I want the whole world to know you’re mine p>
“I’m not yours, Damien.” But my hand was shaking slightly. I pressed it flat against my thigh to still it.
“Not yet.” The certainty in his voice sent shivers down my spine. “But you will be p>
I hung up before I could say something I’d regret. Before I could tell him that the white roses made me feel sick. That Lucas’s smile had looked forced. That I was going to this gala not because I wanted to, but because I needed to prove something.