The moment Damon said "Tell me. Right now," something inside me twisted so sharply I almost reached for the edge of his desk just to steady myself. My mouth felt dry. My tongue stuck to the roof of it. My pulse hammered against my throat like it was trying to claw its way out.
I wanted to lie.
Or maybe I wanted to pretend I didn't know.
Or maybe I just wanted to disappear into the floor and spare myself the humiliation of saying the truth out loud.
Because the only person who would come looking for me like that, uninvited, unannounced, bold enough to demand attention at the front of a skyscraper he had no business entering, was—
No. I wasn't ready to say it. I wasn't ready to hear it.
Damon stepped closer and the room felt smaller, tighter, charged with something that made the air burn inside my lungs. He wasn't angry with me. Not truly. His posture wasn't the posture of a man betrayed. It was the posture of a man preparing for violence on my behalf.
"Aria." His voice softened just enough to undo something in my chest. "Look at me."
I lifted my eyes slowly, cautiously, scared of what I would see in his face.
Intensity. Concern. A simmering protective edge that made my stomach flip. And beneath it all, that same haunted searching look he'd had since the morning. The look of a man staring at something he didn't understand but couldn't walk away from.
I exhaled shakily. "I think… I think it might be Caleb."
The name tasted sour. Like metal. Like old heartbreak that never fully left my throat.
Damon's expression didn't soften. It sharpened, cutting into a shape that wasn't safe. His pupils constricted. His jaw tightened. His breath left him in a slow, controlled exhale, almost silent.
"Your ex," he said, as if confirming it with himself. "The one marrying your stepsister."
"Yes."
"And he's here for you."
"I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe. Maybe he matched the address to the job listing. Or maybe Selene told him. Or… or he just thinks he can show up anywhere he pleases."
My voice trembled. I hated that he heard it.
Damon stared at me for one long beat, then two, and then something dangerous slid across his expression like a shadow. He moved toward the door with a controlled, lethal calm that sent a chill through me.
"Stay here," he said.
I jolted. "Wait. Damon—"
He paused, turning back just slightly, not enough for me to see his whole face. Just the angle of his jaw and the tension running down his neck. "I'm not letting someone who betrayed you walk into my building and demand access to you like he owns the right. He doesn't."
"It's not worth—"
"It is," Damon said, and walked out before I could breathe another protest.
The door closed behind him.
Soft.
Final.
I stood there frozen, staring at the empty space where he'd been standing just seconds ago. My heart felt too loud and too small at the same time. Caleb showing up here—why now, why like this? He had ignored me for months. He rejected me. Humiliated me. Threw me aside like nothing.
He didn't get to come back.
Not like this.
Not at my job.
Not when my life was finally shifting into something I could hold, even if it was fragile. Even if it was messy.
The intercom crackled softly. A faint voice. Muffled. Daniel.
"Sir, he's refusing to wait downstairs. He says—"
A louder voice cut through the speaker, and I felt my blood freeze.
"Tell her to come down here right now. She owes me that much."
It was Caleb.
I stepped back without meaning to. My breath hitched. My fingers curled into fists even as they trembled.
Damon's voice followed, calm in the way a locked gun is calm before firing.
"She doesn't owe you anything."
There was a pause. I could practically hear Caleb's frustration bleeding into the hallway. He always hated when he wasn't in control. When someone stood between him and what he wanted.
"That's between me and her. Not you."
"Wrong," Damon said.
Silence.
Then the sharp scrape of movement. Maybe Caleb stepping too close. Maybe Damon shifting forward to meet him. The tension in the air was so thick it felt like it reached straight through the speaker and wrapped around my lungs.
"Let me make something clear," Damon said, low. Controlled. The way storms speak before they break. "If you raise your voice in this building again, you will be escorted out. If you touch her, you will regret it."
My breath caught. Damon wasn't guessing. He wasn't speculating. He already knew. Somehow, through one look at me, one night with me, one morning in this office—
He knew Caleb had hurt me.
Not physically. But in every other way that mattered.
I didn't hear Caleb's reply. Just a vague murmur. A frustrated sound. A shuffle of feet. Someone stepping back, maybe. Someone realizing they weren't the most powerful person in this building.
Then Damon's footsteps. Coming back. Heavy. Certain. Closer.
My heart thudded against my ribs as the door swung open and Damon stepped inside. His expression was carved from something unyielding. His eyes found mine instantly, like he had been holding their place in case I looked away.
"He's not leaving," Damon said. "He says he won't go unless he talks to you."
My stomach dropped. "I don't want to see him."
"I know."
"Then make him leave."
A muscle in Damon's jaw shifted. "Legally, I can't drag him out unless he does something threatening. He's skirting the line, but not crossing it."
I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead. "I can't face him. Not after everything. Not here."
Something flickered in Damon's expression. Something dark and protective.
"Then you won't face him alone."
My eyes snapped to his. "What does that mean?"
"It means I'm going down there with you."
My pulse jumped painfully. "Damon—"
"You're not going near him without me," he said, voice low. "Not after last night. Not after that photo. Not after the way he's acting."
I took a small, shaky step back. "If I see him, I might fall apart."
His gaze softened just slightly. Not enough to be gentle. But enough to feel like he understood.
"If you fall apart," Damon said quietly, "you'll fall apart behind me."
Something inside me cracked. Something old. Something tender.
But before I could breathe out a response, before I could decide if I felt safe or terrified or both at once, the intercom buzzed again—
A harsh, sharp sound that made Damon snap his attention toward it.
Daniel's voice came through in a panic.
"Sir. You need to get down here now. Caleb just—"
Static.
A thud.
A shout.
Voices rising.
Then Daniel again, breathless and terrified.
"Sir, he's trying to come up to Aria's floor!"