Chapter 238 Would she even give me that chance?
Chapter 238: Chapter 238 Would she even give me that chance?
Aria’s POVThe night had grown deep by the time I stepped off the private jet back in the capital.
I couldn’t risk Damian leaving the city—enemies still lurking in the shadows.So I’d become something of a commuter, flying back and forth to handle business at V&A Group in person.
I hadn’t told him I was coming back tonight. I wanted to surprise him. And maybe, just maybe, check that he’d actually kept his promise to stay home and rest properly.
But the moment I pushed open his room door, I was greeted by silence and darkness.
The entire space was pitch black. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of the living room, the city lights filtered in—a pale, ghostly illumination that did nothing to dispel the emptiness of the room.
It felt like no one was home at all.
"Damian?" I called out softly.
Something uneasy stirred in my chest. My voice came out quieter than I’d intended, instinctively gentle—as if I was afraid of disturbing something fragile.
I walked further into the living room, and that’s when I saw him.
He was curled up in the corner of the massive sofa, a thin blanket draped over his frame.
His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even. The sight of him like that—so still, so vulnerable—sent an unexpected ache through my heart.
"Damian," I whispered, dropping my bag immediately and crouching down beside the sofa.
I called his name twice more, gently checking his forehead and hands for fever, terrified something might be wrong.
"You’re back."
His voice was deep and sleep-rough as his eyes opened slowly, long lashes fluttering. When his gaze found mine, it was impossibly soft.
"That was fast," he murmured. "I thought you’d be longer."
"Why are you sitting in the dark? Are you tired? If you were tired, you should have gone to bed. Does something hurt?" The questions tumbled out of me in rapid succession.
Before I could finish—or worse, get up to fetch something—Damian reached out and pulled me down onto his lap in one smooth motion, wrapping his arms around me.
"I was a little tired," he admitted quietly, his breath warm against my ear. "It wasn’t this dark when I sat down. I was thinking about some things and... accidentally fell asleep."
I tried to push his face back slightly with one hand, reaching up to compare our foreheads again. "Damian, something’s wrong. You’re warmer than me—are you running a fever?"
"I’m not," he said simply.
"We’re taking your temperature," I insisted, already pulling away from his embrace.
This time I wasn’t giving him a choice. I quickly freed myself from his arms and went straight for the medical kit. When I returned with the thermometer, he tilted his head back obediently and let me check.