Taken by the Rivals.

Chapter 4 -The price of absolution

~ Aria POV ~

"You shouldn't have looked," I said, my voice dropping to a frozen whisper.

I didn't wait for him to respond. I spun around on my heel, my boots clicking against the floorboards as I marched toward the double doors. Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to run, to get out of this private suite, to put miles between myself and the man who had crushed my soul four years ago. I reached out, my fingers wrapping around the bronze handles, and pulled.

The doors didn't move.

A sudden, sharp electronic click echoed from the wall panel. I yanked on the handles again, panic rising in my throat, but the lock remained firmly set.

"Open the door, Damien," I demanded, turning around to glare at him. My hands were trembling, but I forced my posture to remain rigid. I refused to look like a victim.

"We need to talk, Aria," Damien said, standing by his desk. He held a small black remote control in his right hand. His knuckles were white, his fingers gripping the device as if it were a lifeline.

"We have nothing to talk about," I said, my chest heaving as a wave of intense anger washed over me. I stepped toward his desk, my eyes narrowed, projecting every ounce of authority I had earned over the last four years. "You locked the doors? Is this how the great Blackstone family does business now? You trap your consultants in rooms because you can't handle a simple rejection?"

"I didn't trap you," he rasped, taking a step forward. His face was pale, his dark eyes wide and fixed on my face. "I just needed you to stay. Just for five minutes. Please. I've spent forty-eight months looking for you. Every single day, Aria."

"Do not say my name," I snapped, slamming my leather portfolio folder onto the table between us. The sound echoed loudly in the dim room. "You don't get to use my name. You chose your legacy. You chose Elena. You sat behind your table and told me I didn't bring enough value to your world. Well, look at me now, Damien. I am the value."

"I know," he whispered.

Then, the ruthless, untouchable billionaire did something that made my breath catch in my throat. His shoulders slumped, his proud posture dissolving entirely. He took two shaking steps around the desk, his gaze never leaving mine, and dropped directly to his knees on the dark rug. He reached out, his fingers stopping just short of touching the hem of my trousers, his head bowed.

"Damien, what are you doing?" I asked, stepping backward, shocked by the sight.

"I'm begging," he said, his voice breaking as he looked up at me. His eyes were swimming with tears, filled with a desperate, wild agony that made him look like a stranger. "I don't care about the pride. I don't care about the family name. I ruined everything, Aria. My mother set a trap, and I was too much of a coward to fight her the right way. I let you walk away because I thought I was protecting you from her ruin, but I just ruined myself."

"Get up," I said, my throat feeling incredibly dry. "This is pathetic."

"I won't get up until you listen," he said, his hands flat against the floor as he knelt before me. "Elena is gone. I broke the alliance two years ago. I didn't care if the company collapsed. I couldn't touch her, Aria. I couldn't look at her without seeing your face. I've tracked every single company you built. I watched you rise from nothing. I bought this agency's contract through a blind trust because it was the only way to get you into a room with me."

I stared down at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. A part of me wanted to feel sorry for him, but a larger, colder part felt a surge of pure triumph. The man who had dismissed our love as a sentimental relationship was now groveling at my feet. The power dynamic had shifted completely, and I could feel the control shifting into my hands.

If I ran out of this room now, I would be running out of fear. He would still hold an emotional grip over my life. But if I stayed, I could use his obsession to fuel my own rise. I could take his money, secure my agency's global expansion, and make him watch me excel while keeping him at a distance.

"Get off your knees, Damien," I said, my voice turning into a calm, professional blade. "The emotional display is irrelevant to my business operations."

He slowly rose to his feet, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He looked exhausted, but a tiny spark of hope flared in his eyes as he stepped back behind his desk. "Then you'll stay? You'll handle the residential estate project?"

"I haven't agreed to anything," I said, walking over to the desk and picking up my folder. "Show me the parameters."

Damien quickly opened a desk drawer, pulling out a thick, bound document. He slid it across the dark table surface, his fingers tracking the pages. "This is a revised contract. I had my legal team draft it last night. It's not just for the residential estate downtown. It's a ten-year exclusive consulting partnership between Bennett Consulting and Blackstone Holdings."

I flipped the document open, my eyes scanning the compensation clause. My breath hitched slightly, though I kept my expression blank. The financial layout was staggering. It was enough capital to fund my agency's international offices in three different countries without needing a single bank loan. It was financial independence.

"There's a condition," I said, looking up from the page.

"Anything," Damien said immediately, his voice thick with a possessive urgency. "Name it. Whatever you want, it's yours."

"I sign this contract on my terms, not yours," I said, leaning over the table, forcing him to meet my cold gaze. "I will have total authority over your private schedule for the duration of this project. Every meeting, every site visit, every public appearance you make regarding this development will be authorized by my office. You will be completely subordinate to my operational rules. If you break a single guideline, I walk away, and my firm keeps the entire deposit."

Damien didn't hesitate. He didn't even read the terms I was dictating. He grabbed a sleek black pen from his desk organizer and shoved it into my hand. "Sign it. Write it into the margins right now. I don't care about the rules, Aria. Just don't disappear again."

I took the pen, my fingers steady as I wrote out the strict clauses directly onto the paper. I signed my name at the bottom in bold, sweeping strokes. Aria Bennett.

"The security locks," I reminded him, pointing the pen toward the double doors.

Damien hit the remote terminal on his desk, and the electronic mechanism clicked open once more. "Your team will have the adjoining office suite down the hall. I had it prepared for you. Everything you need is already there."

"My team will arrive tomorrow morning," I said, closing the contract and sliding his copy back to him. "For the rest of today, I will be reviewing the blueprints alone. Do not disturb me unless I request your presence."

"Aria," he called out as I turned to walk away.

I stopped, my back to him, refusing to turn around. "What is it, Mr. Blackstone?"

"I'm glad you're back," he whispered.

I didn't answer. I walked straight out of his study and moved down the wide hallway to the assigned adjoining office. The room was spacious, featuring a large glass window that overlooked the city, with a long work table in the center. I set my portfolio down, my hands finally letting out a massive shudder as the adrenaline began to fade.

I walked over to the glass window, looking out at the sprawling streets below. I had done it. I had taken his wealth, his pride, and his authority, turning them into weapons for my own agency. I had flipped the power dynamic, rendering him dependent on my professional rules.

A movement in the reflection of the glass caught my eye.

I looked closer. Through the tinted partition window that connected my new office to his private study, I could see Damien. He was standing near the divider, his frame perfectly still. His dark eyes were fixed on my silhouette, watching my every movement with a dangerous, heavy intensity.

There was no sadness in his face now. The desperate boy on his knees had vanished, replaced by an obsessive man who looked as if he had just captured his most valuable prize. He was staring at me with a dark, possessive hunger that made the hairs on my arms stand up. He knew I had taken the crown of power from his hands, but his expression told me he didn't care about losing the crown as long as he could keep watching me.