HATE TO LOVE HIM ;the city kings rules

Aria Carter stepped off the bus with one bag and zero plans to look back. Three years in London didn’t soften her. It sharpened her. The girl who left Manchester at 16 crying in her brother’s arms was gone. The woman who returned at 19 had ice in her veins and fire in her tongue. Home was supposed to feel safe. It didn’t. Because he was still there. Damian Black leaned against her brother’s car like he owned the whole street. Tall. Broad shoulders. Black shirt, black jeans, black scowl. The Manchester sun couldn’t make him look warm. Nothing could. Her brother’s best friend. Her teenage bully. The boy who called her “runt” and pushed her into the school pool on her 15th birthday. “Look who crawled back,” he said, voice low and cold. His eyes dragged over her from head to toe. “Still loud, I see.” Aria dropped her bag. “Still ugly. Good to know some things don’t change.” His jaw ticked. That was new. Three years ago he would’ve laughed and shoved her. Now he just stared. Like he was measuring how much she’d grown. “You’re not 14 anymore, Aria,” he muttered. “Don’t act like it.” “And you’re not my keeper, Damian,” she shot back. “Stay out of my way.” He opened the car door for her brother’s bag, not hers. “Your brother told me to keep you safe. Don’t mistake that for care.” Safe. From him. The irony almost made her laugh. He was the reason she needed safety. The ride to the Carter house was silent. Tense. Every time his hand brushed the gear shift, she remembered his knuckles splitting her lip at 15. Every time he glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw the boy who ruined her last year of high school. He thought she came back broken. She didn’t. She came back for her brother. For her degree. For the life he couldn’t touch. But Damian Black? Off-limits was a warning she intended to keep. The car stopped. He didn’t look at her when he said, “House rules haven’t changed. Don’t talk to me unless it’s necessary.” Aria grabbed her bag and slammed the door. “Don’t worry. Talking to you is the last thing I plan to do.” As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her back. Cold. Calculating. Like he was waiting for her to c***k. She wouldn’t. Not this time. Not for him. But deep down, a traitorous part of her wondered… why did his voice sound rougher than she remembered? Why did “off-limits” feel more like a challenge than a rule? She shook it off. Damian Black was danger. And Aria Carter didn’t do danger twice. Or so she told herself.