Brewed For You

Chapter 14

The early morning sun rays seeped into the room through the cracks in the curtains. Aria tried turning, to run away from the sun but she realized her legs were stuck in the blankets. Opening one of her eyes, she remembered she wasn't in her tiny room back at her apartment but in Damian's house. The giant comfy queen sized bed a stark contrast to her old crusty twin sized bed at home.

She let out a yawn, untangling her legs from the blankets as she stretched out her limbs. She hadn't slept that good in....well, forever.

Then she was attacked by the soft haze of scents creeping into her room... crisp bacon, buttery eggs, and the faint trace of roasted coffee. It was the kind of smell that tugged you out of sleep, lazy and indulgent. Her stomach growled before her mind even caught up, making her self aware of her hunger.

Aria blinked awake, blinking against the sunlight filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she just laid there, collecting her thoughts. Her mind kept drifting back to Damian.

Her heart gave a small flutter as the memory of last night returned; the shattered window, the police lights, the drive here… and that quiet moment on the balcony. His words had echoed in her head all night. You’re surviving. There’s a difference.

The smell from the kitchen grew stronger, forcing her out of bed. She caught a glimpse of her reflection on her way out ... messy curls, flushed cheeks. She sighed, pushing her hair back. The nightdress she had changed into in the middle of the night, a simple silk slip, didn’t exactly scream “appropriate for breakfast.” But she was too sleepy to change. Too hungry.

She padded down the hallway barefoot, the marble cool against her skin. Her senses leading her straight to the source of the aroma.

Then she saw him.

Damian stood by the stove, shirtless, with an apron tied over grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. The sunlight bounced across his back, tracing every muscle, every defined line of his shoulders. He was flipping something in a pan, humming low under his breath.

Aria gasped.

Her brain blanked.

He turned at the faint sound of her gasp, and the smile that curved his mouth was easy. Warm... until his eyes dropped to her. For a moment, the world seemed to still. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his gaze trailing from her exposed thighs to her bare collarbones. The night dress so sheer, it did things to his imagination. And boy did he imagine.

“Morning,” she managed, clutching at the end of the kitchen counter like it might hold her up.

“Morning,” he echoed, his voice a shade lower than usual. His hand moved subtly to readjust the apron, tying it tighter. It was subtle but she didn’t miss it.

The corner of her lip curved up at that, glad that she had some sort of effect on him as he had on her. “I didn't know you knew how to cook”

“I know my way around the kitchen ,” he replied, turning back to the stove. His shoulders tensed, betraying the effort to seem casual.

Aria took a seat at the counter, trying not to stare but failing miserably. The way his muscles rippled as he moved was… distracting. The kind of distracting that made her forget where she was.

“You’re up early,” he said after a moment, still not facing her.

“The aroma woke me.” She tilted her head. “What are you making?”

“Omelets. Toast. Coffee.”

“Smells divine.”

He chuckled softly. “Hope it tastes the same.”

She rested her chin on her palm, watching him move around the kitchen like he’d done it a thousand times. Something about the sight made her heart melt into a puddle.

Their eyes met briefly when he turned to hand her a cup of coffee. Too long. Too intense.

He broke it first, muttering a soft, “Careful, it’s hot.”

Just as her fingers lightly brushed his and she let out a gasp, the front door opened suddenly.

“Knock, knock!” Cole’s voice boomed across the penthouse, and both of them jumped slightly. He appeared, sunglasses perched on his messy hair, grin wide. “I come bearing croissants...” He stopped mid-step, his eyes flicking from Damian’s apron to Aria’s nightdress. “Oh… I see. Am I interrupting something?”

Aria’s face went crimson. “You’re not!”

Damian shot him a glare. “Cole.”

Cole raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning wider. “Hey, no judgment, man. You do your thing. I don't want to spoil the lovebirds breakfast thingy you got going on”

Aria choked on her coffee. “We’re not...!”

“...lovebirds? sure,” Cole cut in, taking a seat at the counter like he owned the place. “I believe you. Totally.”

Mila stumbled out of the hallway, hair wild, eyes half-shut. “For the love of God, lower your voice. Some of us are trying to wake up... gently.”

Cole turned toward her instantly, his grin softening into a lopsided smile. “Well, look who decided to bless us with her morning glory.”

Mila squinted at him. “Are you always this loud in the morning?.”

“Loud, handsome, charming...”

“...annoying,” she interrupted, brushing past him to grab a cup of coffee.

Cole laughed, completely unbothered. “You wound me, sunshine.”

Aria watched the banter unfold with quiet amusement. With the way Cole and Mila were acting like they own the place, the air had lightened considerably. It was understandable for Cole but this place was just as new to Mila as it was for her. She caught Damian’s eye and smiled. He smiled back. It was nice, this fleeting peace.

Breakfast passed quickly in laughter and teasing. For a few minutes, it almost felt like normal life again.

But normal never lasted long for her.

By midmorning, she was back at the café. The streets buzzed with life, sunlight slanting through the front windows. Aria slipped into her familiar rhythm , brewing coffee, taking orders, smiling at customers. She loved the comforting routine of it all, even with the faint worry still lodged in her mind.

Damian had offered to drop her off, but she insisted on going alone. She needed to feel some form of normalcy again, even if just for a few hours.

Mila promised to drop by later after stopping at the market, leaving Aria alone to handle the small rush.

Everything was going smoothly… until the bell above the door chimed.

A man stepped in.

Something about him felt a little off from the start.

He wore a hoodie pulled low over his head, dark shades, and a black face mask that covered half his face. The weather was too warm for all that, and yet there he was, walking slowly toward the farthest corner of the café.

Aria’s first instinct was unease. Then confusion. His build ; tall, lean... tugged at something in her memory. Familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Maybe he's a celebrity, she thought. That'll explain the shades a face mask.

She forced a smile, trying to brush off the chill that ran through her. “Good morning, what can I get you?”

The man didn’t answer immediately. His head tilted slightly, as if studying her. Then his voice came, muffled but sharp. “A cappuccino.”

“Sure,” she said quickly, writing it down. “Anything else?”

He shook his head.

Aria turned, walking to the counter, trying to steady her breathing. Her palms felt clammy. Stop it, Aria. You’re overreacting. She moved through the motions, steaming milk, pouring the coffee, setting the cup on a tray.

When she approached his table, she noticed his gloved hand tapping against the table...once, twice, impatient. Something about it felt familiar too.

“Here you go,” she said, setting down the cup.

The next moment happened so fast, she didn’t even have time to react.

He grabbed her wrist , hard, yanking her down to his level. She let out a startled gasp, the man placed a short pistol on the table. He motioned with a finger on his lips for her to keep quiet.. His grip on her wrist was iron, cold through the fabric of his glove.

“Miss me?” he whispered.

Her heart stuttered. Her vision blurred for a second. That voice. She knew it.

“Ethan…?” she didn't want to believe it..

He smirked behind the mask, leaning closer. “You’ve been ignoring me, sweetheart.”

“Let go of me,” she hissed, trying to pull away. Panic clawed up her throat. “You can’t just...”

“Shh.” he picked up the gun, making her flinch. “You think you can hide behind your new boyfriend and the cops?” His eyes glinted darkly behind the shades. “You forget who I am, Ria.”

Her pulse thundered. “What do you want from me?”

He reached into his pocket and slid something onto the table... her photo. It was her in nothing. Bare. Vulnerable.

Her blood ran cold.

Ethan’s voice was low, almost gentle, and that made it worse. “You’ll come to the address on this paper tonight. Alone. Or these go everywhere. Your little café page, blogs, your contacts. You know I still have more where this came from.”

Tears burned behind her eyes. “You said you deleted them.”

He brought down the face mask revealing a smile...slow, cruel. “I lied.”

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The sound of the coffee machine filled the silence like white noise, distant and unreal.

Finally, he released her hand. Her arm throbbed immediately, a dark bruise already forming under the skin.

“Don’t be late,” he said softly, straightening his hood and pulling up his face mask before walking out as if nothing had happened.

The bell above the door chimed again.

Aria stood frozen, her breath coming in shallow bursts. Her knees trembled, and she had to grip the counter to stay upright.

The café suddenly felt too quiet, too empty. Although there was still a couple at the other corner of the cafe enjoying their breakfast and laughing, unaware of what just happened.

Her hand went to her arm still tender, shaking...and her stomach turned as the pain pulsed beneath her fingertips.

She stared at the door long after he’d gone, her heart pounding so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts. She picked up the tiny Polaroid photo, something do tiny yet yields the power to ruin her life, with only one thought in mind.

It's all happening again.

And this time, she wasn't sure she could handle it.