The evening settled softly over the Steel mansion, the sky shaded in lavender and fading gold. The day had been heavy—tense, unpredictable—and though the threat had been dealt with, a quiet weight still clung to Damian's shoulders.
Ariana noticed it the moment they stepped inside.
Damian's posture was rigid, his jaw tight, the kind of silent exhaustion only she ever saw. The rest of the world would have mistaken it for coldness. She knew better.
"Come with me," she said gently.
He blinked, surprised. "Where?"
"Just trust me."
He did. Without question.
Ariana led him through the mansion, past the grand staircase, past the silent hallways, and into the indoor garden room—a private, glass-walled sanctuary filled with soft lights, hanging ferns, and the subtle sound of water trickling from a small fountain.
Damian paused. "Ariana…"
"Sit." She pointed to the cushioned bench near the fountain.
He obeyed, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes.
Ariana disappeared for a moment, then returned with a tray: warm tea, honey, and a small dish of dark chocolate she had asked Mrs. Rowan to prepare earlier.
Damian stared at it like it was something foreign.
"You need to rest," Ariana said softly, setting the tray down. "And you won't let yourself unless someone forces you."
He huffed a quiet laugh. "You think you can force me?"
"Yes," she said confidently. "Because you listen to me even when you don't listen to anyone else."
Damian's gaze softened instantly.
Ariana poured him tea, added a touch of honey, and handed him the cup. His fingers brushed hers—warm, steady—but she felt the lingering tension beneath his skin.
She sat beside him, curling slightly against his side. "You don't have to carry everything alone."
"I do," he murmured. "It's my responsibility."
"Your responsibility," she corrected gently, "doesn't erase your humanity."
He looked at her then—really looked at her. His walls, so tall and unbreakable to the world, lowered quietly in her presence.
"Ariana…" His voice dropped, rough and sincere. "Today… when you were beside me, even with the danger around us— I felt calm. I shouldn't have, but I did."
"That's good," she whispered. "You're not invincible, Damian. You're just… a man. My husband. And you've been carrying too much for too long."
He exhaled slowly, as if releasing something he'd held for years.
She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "Let me lighten it… even if just a little."
Damian pulled her gently into his lap, burying his face against her neck. His arms wrapped around her—tightly, securely—as though she were the one thing anchoring him.
"You do," he murmured. "More than you know."
Ariana stroked his hair, slow and soothing. For once, the mighty CEO didn't look like a ruler of empires. He looked like a man seeking warmth, grounding, peace.
And she gave it freely.
They stayed like that for a long time, surrounded by the soft glow of garden lights, the quiet trickle of water, and the shared silence that only two souls deeply connected could understand.
Finally, Damian lifted his head, his voice quiet but firm. "Ariana… promise me you'll stay by my side. No matter what."
She cupped his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes darkened with something tender, almost vulnerable. "Good. Because I don't want to face any part of my world without you."
She smiled softly, kissing his forehead. "Then you never will."
And for the first time that day, Damian Steel truly relaxed.