Episode 13
The whispers had started again.
Aria sat at the far end of the grand dining table, untouched food in front of her, eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight. The mansion had quieted since the media storm, but the tension was heavier than ever. She could feel it in the air—like the moment before a storm hit.
Lucien hadn't returned home last night.
That wasn't unusual. He often disappeared for business. But this time, something felt different.
She picked up her phone for the fifth time in the last hour. Still no response.
No calls. No messages.
Had he… changed his mind about her?
Suddenly, the massive double doors of the dining hall flung open.
Her fork clattered against the plate as she stood up, startled.
Lucien walked in—his steps sharp, his expression carved in steel. He wore a tailored black suit, a red silk handkerchief in his pocket, and fury in his eyes.
Behind him walked Dominic, his head of security, and a trembling man in a business suit—someone she didn't recognize.
"What happened?" Aria asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucien didn't look at her.
Instead, he dragged the stranger forward and threw him to the ground.
"Aria, meet Samuel Price," Lucien said darkly. "The man responsible for leaking your hospital records to the press."
Aria's mouth fell open. "W-What?"
Samuel whimpered. "Mr. Blackwood, please—my family—"
Lucien's voice turned ice-cold. "Your family didn't sell confidential information. You did."
He turned to Dominic. "Take care of it. Quietly."
Samuel screamed as he was dragged away.
Aria stared, stunned, her breath caught in her chest.
Lucien finally looked at her. His eyes were unreadable, but the storm inside them had settled slightly.
He walked toward her slowly.
"I told you I'd handle it," he said.
She blinked. "You knew?"
"I always know."
Aria felt her legs weaken. "But how—why didn't you tell me?"
Lucien's jaw tightened. "Because you were panicking. And when you panic, you run."
He cupped her face. "You're not allowed to run from me. Ever."
Her breath hitched.
She hadn't seen him this way before. Possessive. Fierce. Protective.
"Was it you who pulled the articles offline?" she asked.
"Yes. Every one of them."
She looked away. "They called me a gold digger. A charity case. They said I seduced you—"
"Let them," Lucien said coldly. "Let the world think what it wants. You belong to me. That's the only truth that matters."
She looked back up at him. "Why are you doing all this?"
"For damage control," he said flatly.
But his hand didn't leave her cheek.
And the look in his eyes wasn't just business.
—
Later that night, Aria stood on the balcony outside her room, watching the city lights shimmer in the distance. Her heart was still racing. The day had left her shaken.
Lucien had gone into his study again.
But this time, she wasn't afraid to knock.
She pushed open the door gently and found him sitting at his desk, fingers steepled, eyes on his laptop screen.
He looked up, surprised.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I know I'm not supposed to enter your study."
He gestured for her to come in. "You're my wife. You can go where you like."
That was new.
She stepped inside, slowly. "Why are you really doing all this, Lucien?"
His eyes locked on hers.
"I told you. Damage control."
She folded her arms. "You expect me to believe you would launch a private investigation, pay off media houses, and track down someone's family just for damage control?"
He said nothing.
Aria stepped closer. "Tell me the truth. What do you really want from me?"
Lucien's chair scraped back.
He stood.
And suddenly he was in front of her, towering over her, his presence overwhelming.
"I want you to understand," he said in a low, dangerous tone, "that once you wear my ring… you're mine. Completely. I protect what's mine. I fight for what's mine."
He brushed her hair behind her ear.
"I punish those who hurt what's mine."
She swallowed hard. "Even if it's me?"
His hand paused.
Lucien's jaw clenched. "You think you've hurt me?"
"You pushed me away," she whispered. "You said you didn't want me. And yet, you do all of this…"
He leaned in.
"I don't want you… the way men want women."
That stung.
"But I need you."
That confused her even more.
Lucien stepped back, his mask falling into place. "Get some rest. I have a flight in the morning."
"To where?"
"Geneva."
"For business?"
He didn't answer.
—
The next day, Lucien left without another word.
Aria spent the morning pacing the mansion, feeling like something had shifted between them—but she couldn't explain how or why.
Just as she was about to head back to her room, the front doorbell rang.
She wasn't expecting anyone.
The butler opened it, revealing a woman in a red designer dress, oversized sunglasses, and heels sharp enough to kill.
"Is Lucien home?" the woman asked casually.
Aria stepped forward. "He's away. Who are you?"
The woman took off her sunglasses.
And Aria froze.
She recognized her from the tabloids.
Celeste Vornetti. Heiress to a European luxury empire. Lucien's ex-fiancée.
"I'm here to take back what's mine," Celeste said with a smile.
Aria's world tilted.