Chapter 10: The Devil's Bed
525 Words
Chapter 10: The Devil's Bed
(Every sin has a morning after)
Sunlight sliced through the curtains like judgment.
Aria blinked awake slowly, her body aching in ways that made her flush all over again.
She was tangled in black silk sheets. A room that smelled like cedar, salt, and s*x.
Damon’s bed.
Her stomach twisted. Not in regret.
In panic.
Because she remembered everything.
The way he kissed her like she was salvation.
The way he whispered her name like a vow.
The way she let go—completely, recklessly.
She turned slowly.
Damon lay on his back, one arm thrown behind his head, the other resting where her body had been. Bare-chested. Calm. Powerful.
And awake.
His eyes were already on her.
“Good morning,” he said, voice still husky from sleep. “You look like you're trying to run.”
She sat up, sheets clutched to her chest. “I don’t do this. I don’t… stay.”
“You did last night.”
“I was angry. Hurt. Confused.”
“And wet. Don’t forget that part.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”
Damon sat up, sheets falling low on his hips. He leaned in close.
“Don’t what? Remind you that your body knows me? That it wanted me?”
Aria swallowed, throat dry. “This was a mistake.”
He laughed, low and dark. “No, sweetheart. Cade was your mistake. I’m just the consequence.”
She pushed off the bed and began collecting her clothes—last night’s ruined dress, her bra on the chandelier somehow, heels by the window.
Damon watched her dress like he was memorizing the act.
“Running back to him?” he asked.
“No,” she snapped. “But I’m not staying here like this didn’t mean anything.”
His jaw tightened. “It did mean something.”
“Did it?”
“You tell me.”
She froze at the door, hand on the knob.
Her voice came out soft. “I don’t know who I am when I’m with you.”
Damon crossed the room, his voice a murmur in her ear. “You’re the version of yourself no one else gets to touch. And I won’t let him take her from me.”
Aria turned away before he could see the flicker in her eyes.
She left without another word.
But her heart stayed tangled in his sheets.
Meanwhile…
Cade hadn’t slept.
The bandage on his hand was half-assed. His eyes bloodshot.
He watched the headlines scroll across his phone.
Wolfe Corp. stock jumps overnight. Speculation around merger tied to heiress Aria Hale.
There was a photo.
Aria.
With Damon.
Leaving the observatory.
Her hand in his. Her smile small but visible.
Cade saw red.
He didn’t even realize he was calling her until her voicemail picked up.
“Aria. We need to talk. This isn’t over. You and me—we’re not over. Don’t let him twist this. Don’t let him have you.”
He hung up before he could say more.
Before he said the one thing that burned on his tongue.
I still love you.
- Writer
