Chapter 3 -A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL
1509 Words
The headlines came first.
> LAURENT ENTERPRISES SECURES GOVERNMENT INFRASTRUCTURE CONTRACT.
Blake Corporation Loses Bid for the First Time in Seven Years.
By the time Damian reached his office that morning, the entire building was buzzing. Reporters waited outside the glass doors, flashes bursting like fireworks, while the staff whispered in corners as if afraid to breathe too loudly.
He didn’t need to read the papers. He already knew who was behind it.
Her.
Aria Laurent.
Or rather — Aria Blake.
The woman he had buried. The woman who was supposed to be gone. The woman who just stole the most important deal of his career.
He stepped into the boardroom, his presence slicing through the tension like a knife. Every executive stood.
“Sit down,” he ordered, his voice calm but edged with steel.
Ethan, his assistant, cleared his throat. “Sir, the Ministry has officially awarded the contract to Laurent Enterprises. Their proposal undercut us by fifteen percent and included a new sustainability clause. It was… flawless.”
Damian’s jaw flexed. “Of course it was.”
He stared at the projector screen where her face filled the frame — confident, serene, every inch the successful CEO.
That same smile. That same composure.
But behind those calm eyes, he saw it — the glint of vengeance.
She had done this on purpose.
---
Across town, Aria stood before a wall of journalists in the Laurent Enterprises press hall, her voice calm and deliberate.
“This contract represents a new era of collaboration and innovation,” she said, her tone firm, professional. “We’re honored to lead the project and grateful for the government’s trust.”
Flashes erupted. Questions flew.
“Ms. Laurent, did you expect to beat Blake Corporation?”
“Is it true you worked with them years ago?”
“Are you and Damian Blake connected in any way?”
Her lips curved faintly, that perfect half-smile that could disarm armies.
“I respect Mr. Blake’s achievements,” she replied smoothly. “But business is about evolution, not emotion. Blake Corporation had its reign. It’s time for new leadership.”
The room buzzed with excitement. Cameras clicked faster.
But behind that controlled smile, her hands trembled slightly at her sides.
Every word she spoke was a dagger meant to pierce the man who had once ruled her world.
And it worked.
---
Later that day, as her car pulled up outside Laurent Tower, Mia turned from the front seat. “The media’s calling you ‘The Iron Widow’ now.”
Aria’s gaze flickered to the window. “How original.”
Mia hesitated. “Are you sure this isn’t too much, ma’am? Winning this contract—he’ll see it as an attack.”
Aria smiled faintly. “It is.”
“But what if he comes after you?”
“Then let him,” she whispered. “That’s exactly what I want.”
---
At Blake Corporation, Damian dismissed the meeting early. The moment the door closed, he leaned against the edge of the table, staring at her image still frozen on the screen.
Aria Laurent.
The name was a mask. The accent was a disguise.
But no amount of reinvention could hide those eyes — the ones that had once burned only for him.
He picked up his phone and called his private investigator. “I want surveillance on Laurent Enterprises. Every move she makes, every person she meets. I want her entire operation mapped within twenty-four hours.”
He hung up before the man could reply.
For years, he’d built walls around himself, convincing everyone that Aria’s death had changed him — made him colder, harder, more focused.
But now those walls were cracking.
Because she was alive.
And she was coming for him.
---
Two days later, Damian arrived at the Ministry of Urban Development, where a post-award meeting was being held. Blake Corporation had been invited — a formality, to “encourage collaboration.”
He almost laughed at the irony.
As he entered the conference hall, the air thickened. She was there.
Aria Laurent — standing by the window, dressed in a tailored white suit that gleamed against her golden skin. She turned slightly, and their eyes met across the room.
For a moment, time folded.
Three years of pain, loss, and buried love hung in that silent glance.
Then she smiled — polite, professional, utterly untouchable.
“Mr. Blake,” she greeted, extending her hand as if they were acquaintances at a business event. “It’s been too long.”
He didn’t take her hand.
“Not long enough.”
A murmur rippled among the officials nearby. She withdrew her hand gracefully, the picture of composure.
“I hope there are no hard feelings,” she said softly, tilting her head. “Business can be… unpredictable.”
He leaned closer, his voice low. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “If you’re implying I targeted you, Mr. Blake, I assure you — my company simply offered a better deal.”
He almost laughed. “Better deal? Or better revenge?”
A flicker crossed her expression, gone as quickly as it came. “You seem to be confusing me with someone else again.”
Damian’s chest tightened. “I buried you, Aria.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. A few nearby officials turned curiously, pretending not to eavesdrop.
Aria’s lips curved faintly. “Then perhaps you buried the wrong woman.”
The meeting began before he could respond, but the air between them remained electric. Every word she spoke during her presentation was sharp, calculated — as if she was dismantling his empire one line at a time.
When it ended, applause filled the room. Damian stayed seated, jaw tense.
Aria gathered her files, gave a cool nod to the officials, and walked out — heels clicking softly against marble.
He followed.
---
“Aria!”
She froze in the corridor. Slowly, she turned.
The hall was empty now — just the two of them under the glow of the high windows.
Damian stepped closer, his voice low but burning. “Why are you doing this?”
She met his eyes, unflinching. “I’m not doing anything. I’m living.”
“You let me think you were dead,” he said bitterly. “You disappeared. You—”
“You moved on,” she cut in quietly. “You built your empire, your image, your life. Tell me, Damian, what exactly did you lose?”
He stared at her, his anger faltering. “Everything.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
For the first time, her mask cracked — just slightly. Her breath trembled. But then she blinked it away.
“Then consider this,” she said, her tone soft but razor-sharp. “Maybe this is your second chance to lose again.”
She walked past him, the scent of her perfume — jasmine and something heartbreakingly familiar — lingering in the air.
He didn’t move. Couldn’t.
She had just declared war.
And part of him hated how alive it made him feel.
---
That night, Damian sat alone in his office long after everyone left. The city stretched beyond the windows — restless, glittering, indifferent.
On his desk lay the contract papers, stamped with Laurent Enterprises’ seal. He picked them up, scanning her signature at the bottom — bold, precise, elegant.
Aria Laurent.
He traced the letters with his thumb.
Three years ago, he’d signed her death certificate.
Now, she’d signed his defeat.
But this time, he wouldn’t let her vanish.
---
Across the city, in her penthouse suite, Aria stood on the balcony overlooking the same skyline. The wind lifted her hair as she sipped her wine, watching the lights blink like memories.
Mia appeared behind her. “The deal is finalized, ma’am. Damian Blake lost everything tied to that project.”
Aria didn’t smile. “Good.”
“You don’t look happy.”
“Winning doesn’t always feel good,” she said quietly.
Her gaze drifted upward, where the city met the stars. Somewhere out there, he was watching the same sky.
And though she’d vowed to destroy him, her heart whispered the truth she refused to admit — part of her had missed him more than she wanted to remember.
She closed her eyes, letting the wind brush her face.
“Three years ago, you buried me, Damian,” she murmured. “Now I’ll make sure you feel what it’s like to lose everything you love.”
Inside, her phone buzzed — a message flashing across the screen.
> From: Damian Blake
Message: Congratulations on your win. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Aria stared at the words for a long moment, her heart pounding. Then she smiled — slow, dangerous.
> Reply: Oh, I intend to.
— A.L.
As she set the phone down, the city lights reflected in her eyes — twin sparks of vengeance and something dangerously close to longing.
The game had begun.
- Writer
