ARIA’S POV
“No, not possible,” Noah says vehemently, even though his fingers keep fiddling with the top button of my blouse. I swat his hand away and step back, irritation flaring hot in my chest.
Why did I let him treat me like his personal maid if he was just going to shoot down my request anyway?
I had welcomed him when he got home earlier—ran his bath, laid out his pajamas, even helped Mira serve his dinner. After he disappeared into his study for far too long, I came to find him, hoping for a reasonable conversation.
“Are you finally going to tell me what brought about this… change?” he had asked, smirking as he crooked a finger, summoning me closer.
I had rolled my eyes but moved toward him anyway. He stared at me, then pointedly at his desk. I knew exactly what he meant. So I
