Under His Watch
1534 Words
Chapter 16: Under His Watch
The door had barely closed behind Damon when Aria’s knees gave way.
She slid down slowly, her back pressed against the cold wood, heart pounding so hard it hurt. The silence of the room felt louder than any sound — heavy, charged, unforgiving. His presence still lingered everywhere: in the air, in her skin, in the ache blooming deep in her chest.
She lifted trembling fingers to her lips.
That kiss.
It wasn’t just desire. It had been fear wrapped in fire, possession tangled with restraint. Damon hadn’t kissed her like a man who wanted — but like a man who was terrified of losing.
Aria squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady her breathing. Get a grip. She was supposed to be resting, supposed to feel safe.
But safety had never felt this dangerous.
Unseen, the red light near the window blinked again.
Watching.
Recording.
Listening.
Damon didn’t sleep.
He stood in the security control room of his underground residence, sleeves rolled up, dark circles under his eyes. Multiple screens glowed in front of him — live feeds, encrypted files, security logs scrolling faster than most men could process.
Ethan stood beside him, arms crossed. “The sweep is clean everywhere except one anomaly.”
Damon’s jaw tightened. “Where.”
Ethan tapped the screen. A small square zoomed in on the guest suite corridor — Aria’s corridor. “Signal interference. Intermittent. Someone piggybacked on our internal frequency.”
Damon’s eyes darkened. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Ethan said carefully, “someone planted something inside before lockdown. And they’re still feeding off your system.”
Damon slammed his palm against the desk. “Find it.”
“We’re trying. But whoever did this knows your architecture better than most of my men.”
Damon’s voice dropped, lethal. “Then it’s not an outsider.”
Ethan met his gaze. “You think it’s someone inside Blackwood?”
“I know it is.”
Damon turned back to the screens — and froze.
One of the feeds flickered.
For less than a second, Aria’s room appeared — the angle wrong, too close, too intimate.
His blood went cold.
“Pull that feed back,” Damon growled.
Ethan typed rapidly. “That’s not one of ours.”
Damon’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. Someone had breached his most protected space.
Her space.
“She’s not safe,” Damon said, already moving. “Not even here.”
Aria lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, when the door burst open.
She jolted upright, breath caught — and then Damon was there, eyes blazing, hair damp, robe discarded for a black shirt and pants. He crossed the room in three strides and dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Did anyone come in here?” he demanded.
Her heart raced. “No—Damon, what’s wrong?”
“Did you hear anything? See anything strange? A light, a sound—anything.”
She shook her head, panic blooming. “No. I swear.”
His gaze searched her face, her neck, her wrists — checking, assessing, making sure she was untouched. Only then did he exhale, long and sharp.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms.
The suddenness stole her breath.
His arms wrapped around her tightly, almost painfully, her face pressed against his chest. She could hear his heart — fast, furious, alive.
“You’re not leaving my sight,” he murmured into her hair. “Not again.”
She gripped his shirt. “Damon, you’re scaring me.”
“You should be scared,” he said softly. “Someone is watching you.”
Her body went rigid. “What?”
He pulled back just enough to look at her. “There was a camera feed. Not ours. It was in this wing.”
Her stomach dropped. “In… my room?”
“We don’t know exactly where yet,” he said carefully. “But yes. Close enough.”
Fear flooded her veins, icy and sharp. “So… everything…?”
His jaw tightened. “I won’t let that happen again.”
She swallowed hard. “You can’t just move me around like a chess piece.”
His eyes softened — just a fraction. “I can when it’s about your life.”
“Damon—”
“I’m not arguing,” he said, standing and pulling her with him. “You’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
“My room.”
Her breath hitched.
“That’s not—”
“It’s the most secure place in this residence,” he cut in. “And I can see every feed from there.”
“And you think I’ll just—what? Sleep next to you while someone’s spying on us?”
His gaze dropped to her lips, then rose again, dark and controlled. “I think you’ll be safer there than anywhere else.”
She hesitated — and that was all the answer he needed.
Damon’s bedroom wasn’t just a room.
It was a fortress.
Reinforced glass, biometric locks, hidden panels lining the walls. Screens built seamlessly into dark marble. The bed was massive, draped in charcoal sheets, untouched — as if it hadn’t been used in years.
He guided her inside and locked the door.
The sound echoed.
Final.
“This feels like a cage,” Aria whispered.
Damon turned to her slowly. “No. It’s a shield.”
He moved to one of the panels, activating a series of feeds. “No blind spots. No external access. If someone breathes wrong, I’ll know.”
“And if you decide to lock it?” she asked quietly.
His gaze flickered. “I won’t.”
Silence stretched between them.
She hugged herself. “You don’t get to decide everything, Damon.”
“I know,” he said. “But tonight, I decide this.”
She looked away, fighting the mix of fear and something far more dangerous — comfort. Being here with him felt wrong… and right in ways she couldn’t explain.
“You can sleep on the bed,” he said. “I’ll take the couch.”
She looked at him sharply. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
His brow lifted. “You’d rather share?”
Her cheeks warmed. “I’d rather not pretend this isn’t already complicated.”
A corner of his mouth twitched. “Fair.”
They stood there, tension coiling between them like a living thing.
Finally, Damon exhaled. “We’ll share the bed. Boundaries intact.”
“Define boundaries,” she said softly.
“No touching,” he replied. “No temptation.”
Her lips curved faintly. “You’re terrible at lying.”
His gaze darkened. “And you’re terrible at resisting.”
They changed in silence — Aria slipping into one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loose on her frame, carrying his scent. Damon turned away deliberately, jaw tight.
When they lay down, space separated them — inches that felt like miles.
Or seconds.
Aria stared into the darkness. “Damon?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about the car before?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “Because if you knew someone tried to kill you, you would’ve run.”
“And now?”
“Now you can’t.”
She turned toward him. “That’s not fair.”
His voice was low. “Neither is this war.”
Her fingers brushed his accidentally — or maybe not.
Electricity shot through them both.
He stilled. “Aria…”
“Tell me the truth,” she whispered. “All of it.”
He turned onto his side, face inches from hers. “The truth is… you were never supposed to matter this much.”
Her breath caught.
“And now?”
“Now,” he said softly, “you’re the only thing I can’t afford to lose.”
The words wrapped around her heart, tight and dangerous.
Before she could respond, a sharp beep cut through the room.
Damon was on his feet instantly, grabbing his tablet.
“What is it?” she asked, fear rushing back.
He stared at the screen — and went still.
“They just activated it,” he said.
“Activated what?”
“The camera.”
Her blood ran cold. “You found it?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Damon’s gaze lifted to the ceiling.
“In this room.”
Her breath left her in a silent gasp.
On the screen, a message appeared — simple, cruel, unmistakable.
I see you, Blackwood.
Aria’s voice shook. “Damon… who would do this?”
His expression hardened into something lethal.
“Someone who knows exactly how to hurt me.”
He reached for her hand, gripping it tight — a silent promise, a warning, a vow.
And somewhere beyond the walls, the red light blinked again.
Watching them cling to each other in the dark.
But the real question wasn’t who planted the camera…
It was what they planned to do next — now that Damon had claimed Aria as his weakness.
Would protecting her be enough… or would it be the very thing that destroyed them both?
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