CHAPTER FIVE
1090 Words
ARIA
The next morning, I dressed slowly and carefully, as if the wrong blouse would summon the ghost of last night. I kept repeating one prayer in my head:
Please don’t let Damian bring up anything. Please let him magically forget. Please let him lose his memory, God, I beg you.
I reached the office early.
He wasn’t there.
Thank You, Jesus.
Thank You, universe.
Thank You, moon, stars, ancestors, and whoever else helped.
For once, I could breathe.
During breakfast with my colleagues at the café nearby, I tried to distract myself with a muffin. But fate, as usual, had other plans.
“Have you heard?” one colleague whispered. “CEO Damian is getting married. To Katherine Morgan.”
The muffin stopped halfway to my mouth.
“Katherine? She’s gorgeous,” another added. “Like… goddess gorgeous.”
“Aria, you’ve seen her before, right? Isn’t she pretty?”
“Yes. She’s… good.”
Good?
GOOD?!
Why did my mouth betray me?
He’s getting married?
Damian Cross?
My boss?
The man who had his mouth on my n****e less than twelve hours ago?
Oh, Aria. Congratulations.
You have officially won the trophy for Most Embarrassing Human Alive.
Then another girl chimed in. “But haven’t you heard about the Cross family curse?”
“Oh yes,” someone replied quickly. “Rumor says any woman who enters that family ends up traumatized. His mum. His brother’s wife. The Cross men… they ruin women.”
I swallowed hard.
Eish.
“But I don’t think our CEO is like that,” one added.
Everyone looked at me.
“Aria, what do you think?”
What do I think?
I think I almost had the hottest foreplay of my life with a man who apparently comes from a family of Gothic emotional murderers.
I stood up. “Nothing. I have to go. It’s almost ten. Damian must be close.”
“Sorry, PA!” they teased.
I left quickly, my mind spinning like a broken washing machine.
A curse.
A marriage.
And me, an i***t, almost bare on his office table?
Wow.
My autobiography will be titled: Aria: A Case Study in Poor Life Choices.
Still distracted, I bumped into someone tall.
Damian.
Of course.
“Good morning, sir,” I said, trying to keep my face straight.
“Morning, Aria. Come to my office.”
Oh God.
He’s going to fire me.
Blacklist me.
Then marry Katherine and live happily ever after.
Inside his office, he pointed at the chair.
“Sit, Aria.”
I sat immediately. “Sir?”
“How’s your head?”
My… head?
“Oh. Um. It’s spinning. I drank heavily last night. Very heavily. I’m a light drinker.”
He raised a brow. “You only drank half a glass.”
My nervous smile probably looked like a dying frog. “Yes, sir. Very light.”
He watched me carefully, his eyes too sharp.
“You don’t remember anything from yesterday?”
My heart jumped. “Sir? Is there… something I should remember?”
His eyes dropped to my lips for a moment, then lower to my chest.
Why did I wear this top? It showed a bit of cleavage but still—
“Nothing to remember,” he said finally. His jaw tightened.
My phone pinged.
I reached for it without thinking.
One glance at the screen and my blood froze.
James.
I’ve found you. PA of Damian Cross. I didn’t think you could handle that, my petty girlfriend. Keep trying to hide. I’ll get you.
My hand trembled so badly I almost dropped the phone.
“Aria,” Damian said quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. I’m fine.”
But my voice shook. My hands too.
And he saw everything.
He stepped closer.
Then, without asking, he took the phone from my hand.
One second his expression was irritated.
Next, something darker appeared.
His nostrils flared. A cold, controlled fury settled in his eyes.
“Who is this?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.
“Sir, wait—”
But he had already read the message.
You think you can hide from me? I’ll find you, Aria.
He read out loud.
My blood went cold again, not because of the message, but because of the way he looked at me afterward.
No confusion. No jealousy. Just a dark, protective rage.
“Aria,” he said softly. “Are you in danger?”
“I didn’t want you to know,” I whispered. “I didn’t want to bring this into your world. I just—”
The door swung open.
“Daaaaamian!” Katherine’s voice rang through the office. Confident. Bright. The voice of a woman used to walking into any room she wanted.
She stepped inside, hair camera-ready, dress sculpted to her body like it had been sewn on her skin. Two men followed behind her—her brothers, tall, broad, and looking like they were born rich and raised rude.
Her eyes found me. One eyebrow lifted.
“Oh. You have company.”
I wiped my palms on my jeans.
Damian didn’t even turn to her. He was still watching me.
Katherine’s brothers exchanged a look. One smirked. The other whispered something that made her smile.
She stepped closer.
“So this is your personal assistant who almost killed me. I thought you’d have her sacked by now.”
Heat rose in my neck. Shame. Anger. Embarrassment.
I stood. “Excuse me—”
“Oh, she’s leaving?” one brother muttered. “Good. She’s done enough damage.”
Damian moved forward, his expression like carved stone.
“Watch your tone,” he warned.
The brother scoffed.
“Why should I? She’s just a worker.” He paused. Then smirked. “Or what? Are you f*****g her?”
The room froze. My heart fell through the floor.
Damian’s eyes went pitch black.
Before anyone could react—before Katherine could even gasp—Damian stepped forward and punched him. Hard.
The man crashed into the glass wall with a sickening thud.
Katherine screamed. The second brother rushed forward but stopped the moment he saw Damian’s face.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Damian stood there with bleeding knuckles, chest rising and falling.
“No one disrespects my female workers,” he said, voice icy cold. “Not in my office. Not anywhere.”
Then he looked at me.
Still furious. Still protective.
And something else I couldn’t name.
- Writer
