Chapter Three: Strangers in the Rain
1953 Words
Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Grand Monarch Hotel, turning the glittering city lights into blurred streaks of gold and silver. Inside the bar, however, time seemed to slow. The chatter had quieted, the pianist had switched to a softer melody, and the scent of polished oak and aged whiskey hung comfortably in the air.
Ariana wrapped both hands around the warm mug of coffee the bartender had insisted she drink after noticing she had barely touched her second glass of whiskey.
"I think you've had enough alcohol for one night," he'd said kindly. "Trust me, coffee makes better decisions."
She had laughed, surprising even herself.
Now she sat quietly, watching raindrops race down the glass. Now and then, she caught her own reflection, and each glimpse reminded her of the woman she had been only hours ago—a woman convinced she was about to become a fiancée.
How foolish she had been.
Across the counter, Damien Blackwood exchanged his whiskey for black coffee without a word.
He wasn't a heavy drinker. Tonight had simply tested every ounce of his patience.
The bartender glanced between them with an amused smile.
"You two look like you've known each other for years."
Ariana smiled faintly.
"We met about fifteen minutes ago."
The bartender blinked.
"Really?"
Damien answered without looking up.
"It feels longer."
The bartender chuckled before excusing himself to serve another customer.
Silence settled between them again.
It was not awkward silence.
Comfortable silence.
The kind that existed between two people too exhausted to pretend they were okay.
Ariana stirred her coffee absentmindedly.
"So..."
Damien lifted an eyebrow.
"So?"
"You saved me, bought me five minutes of peace..." She looked at him with a small smile. "I don't even know your name."
He hesitated.
Normally, introducing himself led to one of two reactions.
People either wanted favours...
...or money.
Neither interested him.
"Damien."
She repeated it softly.
"Damien."
He looked at her.
"And you?"
"Ariana."
He nodded once.
"It suits you."
She blinked.
"Is that your version of a compliment?"
"It's the closest thing you'll get."
A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it.
"There it is."
"What?"
"A smile."
"I wasn't smiling."
"You almost were."
"I wasn't."
"You definitely were."
For the first time that evening, Damien allowed the corner of his mouth to lift.
Barely.
"There," Ariana said triumphantly. "I win."
"You celebrate small victories."
"They're still victories."
He couldn't argue with that.
Outside, thunder rolled across the night sky.
The rain showed no sign of stopping.
Ariana checked her phone.
Seven missed calls.
All from Ethan.
A text message appeared.
**Ethan:** *Please answer me. It isn't what you think.*
She laughed bitterly.
Damien noticed the change in her expression.
"Bad news?"
"My ex."
"You sound certain."
"I watched him cheat on me."
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"He was supposed to propose tonight."
Damien looked at the velvet gift box, still resting beside her handbag.
"You bought him something."
"A watch."
She smiled sadly.
"I spent two months saving for it."
"You left it."
"I didn't want it anymore."
She looked down into her coffee.
"I think what hurt most wasn't seeing him with another woman."
Damien remained silent.
"It was realizing I had built my future around someone who had already walked away from it."
Those words lingered between them.
He understood them better than she realized.
Trust.
It was expensive.
And betrayal always demanded payment.
"My turn," Ariana said after a while.
He frowned slightly.
"For what?"
"I've talked about my disaster."
She looked at him curiously.
"What happened to you tonight?"
Damien stared through the rain-soaked window.
For a long moment, he didn't answer.
Finally, he spoke.
"The company I built with my father is under attack."
She frowned.
"You own a company?"
"A few."
"A few?"
He ignored the surprise in her voice.
"Someone close to me sold confidential information."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
She studied him carefully.
"You trusted that person."
"Yes."
"And they betrayed you."
He nodded once.
"So... we have something in common."
He looked at her.
"We both chose the wrong people."
Neither of them spoke after that.
The truth had settled heavily between them.
One had lost love.
The other had lost loyalty.
The bartender returned carrying two slices of warm chocolate cake.
"We didn't order this," Ariana said.
"You didn't."
He smiled knowingly.
"Sometimes broken hearts need sugar more than whiskey."
Ariana laughed.
Damien shook his head.
"Does everyone in this hotel try to solve people's problems?"
"No," the bartender replied with a grin.
"Just mine," Ariana said.
As the bartender walked away, Damien picked up his fork.
"I don't eat dessert."
"So why are you holding the fork?"
"..."
"You've been caught."
Without another word, he took a bite.
Ariana burst into laughter.
For a brief moment, neither of them remembered why they had come to the hotel in the first place.
Neither of them noticed the black SUV that had just pulled into the hotel's private entrance.
Inside sat a woman dressed in an elegant white coat, staring at Damien through the rain-streaked windshield.
Her manicured nails tightened around her phone.
"So..." she whispered coldly.
"That's where you are."
She opened the car door.
And walked toward the hotel
The automatic glass doors slid open.
A gust of cold wind swept into the hotel lobby, carrying the scent of rain. Every conversation in the bar continued as normal, but Damien noticed her immediately.
She walked with effortless confidence. Her white trench coat rested perfectly over a fitted black dress, and a pair of silver heels clicked softly against the marble floor. Her dark hair fell neatly over one shoulder, while the diamond earrings she wore shimmered beneath the warm lights.
Dr. Eleanor Sinclair.
She stopped a few feet away from Damien, her eyes briefly landing on Ariana before returning to him.
"So this is where you've been," Eleanor said calmly.
Damien's expression remained unreadable. "Eleanor."
"I've called you twelve times."
"I was busy."
"I can see that."
Her gaze shifted toward Ariana once more. There was no smile. No greeting. Only silent curiosity.
Ariana suddenly felt like she had interrupted something she wasn't supposed to witness. She picked up her handbag.
"I think I should leave," Ariana said quietly.
Damien rose from his seat immediately.
"You don't have to."
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to introduce us?"
A brief silence settled over the bar before Damien finally spoke.
"Eleanor Sinclair."
He then turned toward Ariana.
"Ariana Cole."
Eleanor stepped forward and extended a perfectly manicured hand.
"It's nice to meet you."
Ariana accepted the handshake politely.
"You too."
Although both women smiled, neither smile reached their eyes.
Sensing the tension, the bartender quietly excused himself and moved to the opposite end of the counter.
Eleanor folded her arms before looking back at Damien.
"Your mother has been looking for you."
"I'm aware."
"The family dinner is tomorrow evening."
"I know."
"And you're still planning to ignore it?"
Damien released a quiet sigh.
"We'll discuss this another time."
"No," Eleanor replied firmly. "We'll discuss it now."
She glanced at Ariana.
"Unless your... friend... would prefer some privacy."
Ariana shook her head almost immediately.
"No, really. I should go."
She slung her handbag over her shoulder before offering Damien a small smile.
"It was nice meeting you, Damien."
For a brief second, disappointment flickered across his face.
"You shouldn't leave alone," Damien said.
"I'll be fine."
Damien looked toward the rain pounding against the windows.
"You won't."
Almost on cue, thunder echoed across the city.
The rain had become a violent storm. Sheets of water crashed against the hotel's glass walls while strong winds bent the trees outside.
The receptionist hurried toward the entrance and locked one of the glass doors.
"The roads are beginning to flood," she announced to the guests. "We're advising everyone to remain indoors until the storm eases."
Ariana stared through the windows.
"This can't be happening."
She had no umbrella.
No car.
Public transportation would be nearly impossible in weather like this.
Eleanor turned to Damien.
"You can ride with me."
"No."
She frowned.
"What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I drove myself."
"You drove here?"
"Yes."
"Then follow me home."
"I have somewhere else to be."
Eleanor's patience visibly thinned.
"Damien."
He ignored her and turned toward Ariana instead.
"I'll take you home."
Ariana blinked in surprise.
"You don't even know where I live."
"I'll find out."
"I couldn't possibly ask you to do that."
"You didn't."
She folded her arms.
"I barely know you."
"That's true," Damien admitted.
Ariana laughed awkwardly.
"See? Even if you admit it sounds strange."
Before Damien could respond, his phone vibrated.
The caller ID displayed Victor.
Damien answered immediately.
"What happened?"
Victor's usually calm voice sounded tense.
"Sir... someone broke into the executive archive."
Damien's expression darkened instantly.
"When?"
"About ten minutes ago."
"What was taken?"
"We're still checking, but security believes the intruder was searching for the Blackstone Project files."
Damien stood abruptly.
"I'm on my way."
He ended the call.
Eleanor stepped closer.
"What's wrong?"
"I need to get to the office."
"In this weather?"
"Immediately."
He looked at Ariana.
"I'll drop you off first."
Ariana shook her head.
"You don't have to."
"I insist."
Before either of them could say another word, another hotel employee hurried into the lobby.
"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen..."
Every guest turned toward him.
"We've just received a weather advisory."
The television above the bar switched to a breaking news report.
A female reporter appeared on the screen.
"A severe storm has caused multiple road closures across the city. Authorities are advising residents to avoid unnecessary travel."
Images of flooded streets filled the screen. Cars were already stranded beneath an overpass.
Ariana sighed.
"I guess none of us are leaving anytime soon."
The bartender smiled warmly.
"We still have several available suites if anyone wishes to stay the night."
Without hesitation, Damien looked at the receptionist.
"Book one."
Eleanor looked stunned.
"You already have a penthouse suite here."
"I'm not talking about me."
His gaze settled on Ariana.
"Book one for her."
Ariana's eyes widened.
"What?"
"It's too dangerous for you to travel."
"I can't let you pay for a luxury hotel room."
"Consider it my way of thanking you."
She frowned.
"I thought I was the one thanking you."
Damien looked at her for a moment before replying.
"You made me smile."
"So?"
"That doesn't happen often."
For the first time that night, Ariana didn't know what to say.
Standing only a few feet away, Eleanor watched the exchange in complete silence.
Her smile remained perfectly composed.
But inside...
Jealousy quietly began to grow.
She had known Damien Blackwood for almost two years.
Not once had she ever seen him smile at another woman.
Yet a stranger had managed to do it in a single evening.
As the receptionist handed Ariana her room key, Eleanor quietly slipped her phone from her handbag.
She dialled a number.
The call connected almost immediately.
"I need you to investigate someone," Eleanor said in a calm voice.
There was a brief pause.
"The woman's name is Ariana Cole."
She glanced toward Ariana, who was thanking the receptionist.
"I want every detail about her."
She ended the call before anyone noticed.
Across the room, Damien stood silently by the rain-soaked windows.
For the first time in months, his thoughts weren't consumed by board meetings, betrayal, or billion-dollar deals.
Instead...
He found himself wondering about the woman fate had placed beside him on the worst night of his life.
Neither of them realized...
That by sunrise...
Their lives would become intertwined in a way neither of them could escape.
- Writer
