Aria finally understood, he was the man she saved. The incident which occured flashed back into her memory.
April 11 had held so much promise for Aria. It was circled in red on her calendar, marked in her mind as a day for memories. Her heart had fluttered with excitement, imagining laughter, shared meals, and long walks with her new husband. Only to find a letter of apology clipped to the meal on the table and the sound of his footsteps as he left the house—duty had called, and for the very first time, work came first.
She took a step outside as she shut the door behind her walking down the quiet street. The spring air was soft, yet her lungs felt heavy, the sun warm but she couldn't feel its warmth, none of it could reach the chill in her chest. Her footsteps had no destination, just a rhythm that matched her restlessness. She passed rows of blooming flowers and smiling strangers, but it all felt distant, as if the world had moved on without her. She wasn't angry—just aching, trying to walk off the loneliness.
Her fingers trembled as they curled around the delicate chain at her neck, the pendant cool against her skin—her silent comfort in moments of fear. A strange stillness hung in the air, and her eyes swept the area instinctively. Then she saw him.
She looked at the ground and a dark stain was before her leg, only for her eyes to quickly spot him. Her heart dropped. For a split second, the world froze. As she got closer to him, panic spread across her body.
She knelt beside him, shaking his body vigorously as she shouted at the top of her voice,her voice cracked and desperate. His chest still rose—barely. Without thinking, she flagged down help and rushed him to the hospital, her mind racing faster than the sirens blaring through the streets.
Hours later, when they told her he'd live, she exhaled shakily. But she didn't stay. Duty tugged at her sleeve, and with one last glance, she walked away—leaving behind more than just a hospital room.
Words failed her, a surge of electricity passed through her body, her expressions darkened as her eyes began to sting but she refused to let it. Regardless of it, a strange feeling of relief eased her mind, he had survived. That alone was something to be grateful for. But the weight of what she'd just learned pressed down harder than she expected. A call boy? Her chest tightened, not from disgust, but sorrow. She couldn't imagine the desperation that led him there. Her heart ached—yes, for him.
She blinked quickly, willing the sting in her eyes to retreat. No tears. Not now. With trembling hands, she grabbed her bag from the chair, her movements jerky, uncoordinated. Without a word, without a backward glance, she turned and left the room, each step fast, deliberate. No hesitation—only the lingering echo of pity clinging to her like a second skin.
Jerry chuckled softly, the sound low and edged with amusement. There was something oddly endearing about the way she saw him—so wildly off the mark, yet so full of fire. But beneath his amused exterior, a deeper storm stirred. Over these years, he hasn't felt much joy as he did now, pure and unshakable. It clawed at his chest, trying to break free. He had finally found her. Her. The one who saved him when he hadn't even known he needed saving.
The moment she left, he immediately took out his phone, the screen lighting up as he dialed. His gaze darkened with fierce resolve.
A slow, dangerous smirk curved his lips as the line connected.
With a voice full of promise and hope, he murmured,"You won't be able to stay away from me anymore my Queen!"
Not this time.
She'd danced into his chaos once—now she would become part of it. Forever.
And he would never let her go.
She shut the door behind her with a slow thud as she stepped inside her apartment. She was welcomed by the quietness in her home,but her heart was far from calm. She kicked off her heels, each step to the bathroom a frantic rush. The memories of the last night surged into her memory as it passed electricity down her spine.
She flicked on the bathroom light, the mirror greeting her with a tired, flushed reflection. Her fingers reached up instinctively—and froze. There it was.
A dark, blooming hickey just beneath her jawline. Bold. Obvious. Reckless.
Her breath hitched. "Oh no!," she muttered under her breath.
She bit her bottom lip, the way she always did when panic wrestled with guilt. That mark wasn't just a kiss—it was a signature. One she couldn't afford for anyone to read.
Aria leaned in closer, her pulse quickening. "What do I do?" she whispered, already pulling open the drawer beneath the sink. Foundation? Concealer? A scarf? Her mind raced through excuses and cover-ups like a thief plotting an escape.
But beneath the frantic energy, a shiver of satisfaction curled in her chest.
She had let herself go. Now she had to hide the evidence.
Smoky steam still clung to her body after she took her bath, she immediately oiled her body and she stood before the mirror, eyes scanning over the bright and shining marks on her neck, she thought she'd forgotten about the night. She immediately went to her wardrobe and started scanning through for suitable clothes, bypassing the silks and sleeveless blouses, settling instead on a soft turtle-sleeved top in midnight blue. It hugged her arms like armor, cloaking her secrets in fabric.
Hooking the button on her heels,she hurriedly made it for the door, the quiet thud of her footsteps echoing her resolve. The city was already alive outside, but her thoughts were louder—racing, thumping, anxious. Today was crucial.
She pushed through the office doors, the scent of fresh paper and roasted coffee grounding her. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor with purpose.
Then—she froze.
A familiar voice yet rich and deep was heard not too far from where she stood. Her heart stuttered in her chest. No, it can't be…
But it was.
Her breath caught, throat tightening. She turned slowly, pulse drumming in her ears, eyes searching.
And then she saw him.