Aria's pov
The air in Alpha Damien Rothwell's office could've been bottled and sold as pure arrogance.
He'd eaten every bite of that greasy takeout I bought last night, and now he'd called me upstairs like I was the one who owed him money.
Maybe stone really did have a metabolism, because he looked disgustingly perfect this morning.
I just hoped the universe had at least given him heartburn.
Or better, a solid hour of regretting every bite.
Alpha King might at least regret it with a stomachache.
But it was as if he could hear my silent complaints.
Alpha Damien's onyx gaze caught mine, a slow, knowing smirk tugging at his mouth.
"Are you wishing for my downfall, Aria?"
My heart stumbled.
"No, Alpha. Not at all," I said quickly, forcing a professional tone
