Aria POV
The restaurant at the Grand was elegant.
I arrived at seven exactly, wearing a deep red dress that hugged my curves and commanded attention.
Lucas was already there, standing when he saw me with a smile that reached his eyes.
"You came." He smiled, genuine pleasure lighting up his expression as he gestured to the chair.
"You had a good proposal." I let him pull out my chair, settling into it with practiced grace. "I'm a businesswoman. I don't ignore good opportunities."
"Of course." His eyes sparkled with amusement as he took his own seat. "Business only."
The waiter appeared with wine. Lucas ordered something expensive but not showy, his tone easy and confident.
We talked business for the first twenty minutes. His expansion plans. My market connections.
Lucas was smart. Really smart. And unlike most men I met, he actually listened when I spoke.
"Your take on the Asian market is spot-on," he said, leaning back in his chair with genuine respect. "Most people don't understand the cultural differences."
"I lived there for two years," I said, taking a sip of wine. "Built half my company in Singapore."
"After you left Ravenwood."
I tensed, my shoulders stiffening. "You really do research your partners."
"I told you." Lucas's expression turned serious, his playful demeanor fading. "I know everything. Including that you have a three-year-old son named Noah."
My blood went cold. "How"
"Public records, Aria." He held up his hands in a placating gesture, palms out. "International business registration. You listed him as dependent when you filed in Singapore." He leaned forward, his voice soft. "I'm not a threat. I'm just thorough."
I studied him, trying to read ulterior motives, searching his face for deception.
There were none that I could see.
"You're right," I said finally, exhaling slowly. "I have a son. He's four now, actually. And he's none of anyone's business."
"Understood." Lucas nodded, his expression sincere. "For what it's worth, being a single mother while building an empire? That's incredible."
Something in my chest loosened slightly, the tension easing just a fraction.
The waiter brought appetizers with practiced silence. We ate in comfortable silence for a moment.
"Can I ask you something?" Lucas said, setting down his fork. "Off the record?"
"That depends on the question," I replied, my guard still partially up.
"Why did you come back to Ravenwood?" He watched me carefully, his gaze thoughtful. "You'd built your empire abroad. You could have stayed away forever. Why return to the place where you were hurt?"
I considered the question, swirling wine in my glass. "Because running away isn't the same as moving forward. I came back on my terms. As someone they can't dismiss or destroy."
"Revenge," Lucas said softly, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"Justice," I corrected, meeting his gaze steadily.
He smiled, something like admiration crossing his features. "Fair enough."
We talked more over dinner. About business, yes, but also about life. Lucas's own rise from nothing. His parents who'd died when he was young. The companies he'd built from scratch.
He was charming without being slimy. And he made me laugh.
When was the last time someone had made me laugh?
"So the investor literally said his dog had better ideas?" I laughed, covering my mouth with genuine mirth.
"Swear to God." Lucas grinned, his eyes crinkling. "And then the dog walked into the room and knocked over his presentation board."
"That's terrible," I said through my laughter.
"It was perfect." He topped off my wine with a practiced hand. "Sometimes the universe tells you a deal isn't worth it."
The restaurant was emptying out around us. We'd been talking for two hours.
"I should go," I said, glancing at my watch with reluctance. "Noah's with the sitter, and I don't like being out late."
"Of course." Lucas stood when I did, ever the gentleman. "Thank you for tonight. It was" He paused, searching for words. "Honestly, it was the best business dinner I've had in years."
"Me too," I admitted, surprising myself with the honesty.
We walked toward the exit together, our footsteps echoing on marble.
The lobby was mostly empty. A few late-night guests checking in.
And Damien, sitting in one of the leather chairs near the entrance, disheveled and waiting.
He stood when he saw us, his expression desperate.
Lucas noticed my sudden tension, his body shifting protectively. "Want me to stay?"
"No." I touched his arm briefly, drawing strength from the contact. "I can handle this."
"I know you can." He smiled with warmth and understanding. "But the offer stands." He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it gently, his breath warm against my skin. "Goodnight, Aria. I'll send over the contract tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Lucas," I said, my voice soft.
He walked away, nodding politely to Damien as he passed, a silent acknowledgment between rivals.
I turned to face my ex-husband, squaring my shoulders.
Damien looked like hell. His tie was loosened, his hair disheveled from running his hands through it. His eyes were red-rimmed.
"How long have you been sitting here?" I asked coldly, keeping my distance.
"Three hours." His voice was rough. "I knew you'd come back eventually."
"That's pathetic," I said.
"I know." He took a step toward me, his hands twitching at his sides. "Aria, please. Just let me explain"
"Explain what?" I cut him off, my voice sharp. "That you believed lies about me? That you slept with my sister? That you told me to abort our" I stopped, the words catching in my throat.
His face went white, all the blood draining from his features. "You kept the baby?"
Panic seized me, cold and suffocating. I'd said too much.
"That's none of your business," I said quickly, backing away a step.
"Aria." His voice broke on my name lacing with desperation. "Please. If you had my child"
"I don't have anything of yours," I said. "You threw away any right to know anything about my life four years ago."
My phone buzzed in my purse. A text from my sitter: Noah's asking for you.
Damien's eyes flicked to my phone as I shoved it in my purse with more force than necessary.
"I'm leaving," I announced, turning toward the exit.
"Then I'll walk you to your car," he said, following.
"No," I said firmly, spinning to face him.
"Aria" he started, reaching out.
"No, Damien." I used his first name deliberately, saw him flinch at hearing it from my lips. "You don't get to follow me. You don't get to wait for me. You don't get anything from me except what I give you in a boardroom."
"I was wrong." His hands clenched at his sides, trembling with emotion. "I was wrong about everything. Your family lied to me, and I believed them because I was too much of a coward to admit I."
He stopped, the words dying on his lips.
"To admit you what?" I demanded, stepping closer despite myself.
"That I felt something for you," he finished quietly, the confession falling between us. "That you scared me because you made me feel things I'd spent my whole life trying to bury."
I laughed, harsh and bitter, the sound echoing in the empty lobby. "You felt something? Is that supposed to move me? You destroyed me, Damien. You threw me out pregnant and penniless. You told me to abort your child. You chose my sister over me on our wedding day."
His face crumpled, raw pain flashing across his features. "I know. God, Aria, I know. And I've spent every day since then trying to find you. Trying to make it right."
"Some things can't be made right." I walked past him toward the exit, my heels clicking sharply. "Some things are just broken forever."
"Please." He caught my hand, his fingers warm and desperate. "Just tell me—did you keep the baby?"
I looked down at his hand on mine, feeling the familiar warmth.
Part of me wanted to hurt him. Wanted to tell him yes, that he had a son with his eyes, and that he'd never meet him.
But Noah didn't deserve to be a weapon.
"Goodnight, Mr. Blackwood," I said, pulling free.
I walked out into the night, the cool air hitting my flushed face.
My car pulled up immediately. I slid into the back seat, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
"Home, Ms. Monroe?" my driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
"Yes." My voice came out strangled, barely above a whisper. "Home to Noah."
As we pulled away, I looked back through the tinted window.
Damien stood in the entrance of the hotel, watching my car disappear, a solitary figure bathed in light.
His phone lit up in his hand.
A moment later, mine buzzed with insistent vibration.
We need to talk. Please.
I deleted the message with a sharp tap.
Then I opened my photos and looked at the one of Noah from this morning. Smiling, his ice-blue eyes bright, completely unaware his father was in the same city.
My baby.
My secret.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" my driver asked gently, concern evident in his tone.