CHAPTER TWO: THE MAN SHE COULDN'T OUTRUN
Aria's breath shattered the moment Damien Cole's voice cut through the air behind her.
"Aria?"
The sound of her name—spoken in that deep, commanding, devastatingly familiar tone—slid down her spine like ice water. It had been years since she last heard that voice. Years since she fled from the life she never should have entered. Years since she swore she would never stand in front of him again.
Yet here he was.
And here she was.
Frozen. Helpless. Terrified.
Slowly—too slowly—she turned around.
Damien stood just a few feet away, tall and impossibly composed in his tailored charcoal suit. Every line of him was as sharp as she remembered: the broad shoulders, the severe jaw, the piercing gaze that once made her feel invincible and now made it impossible to breathe.
Time had carved him into something even more intimidating—colder, harder, more powerful. His presence filled the hallway with the same quiet intensity that once pulled her into his orbit.
His dark eyes swept over her, and something unreadable flickered in them. Shock, maybe. Anger. Or something far more dangerous—recognition.
"Aria Lawson," he murmured, his voice slow, deliberate. "I thought I was imagining things."
Her throat tightened. Say something. Anything.
But her words drowned under the tide of panic.
"Mr. Cole," she finally whispered, dropping her gaze. "I'm just here for work."
Damien's eyes narrowed. "Work?"
She nodded quickly, gripping the bouquet crate like a lifeline. "I—I'm part of the event team today. I'm not… I'm not here for anything else."
His gaze lingered on her trembling hands, then returned to her face. "You disappeared."
She flinched. "I didn't—"
"You disappeared," he repeated, his voice dropping lower, colder. "No calls. No messages. No explanations. One morning you were there, the next you were gone."
Her chest constricted. Memories slammed into her—heavier than the elevator doors closing behind her.
The night they spent together.
The morning she discovered the truth.
Her heart breaking as she packed her bag in silence.
Her hands shaking as she walked out, not knowing she was carrying a piece of him with her.
"I had my reasons," she said quietly.
"Reasons I was apparently not worthy of hearing?"
Her cheeks burned. She couldn't meet his eyes. "It was complicated."
Damien's jaw flexed. "You owe me an answer."
"No, I don't."
This time, her voice had strength.
Because she wasn't alone anymore.
Because she had Eli to protect.
His gaze sharpened immediately, as though sensing the shift in her tone. "You sound different."
"I grew up."
"Did you?" he murmured, studying her intently. "Or did something force you to?"
Her breath caught. He cannot know. He must not know.
"I need to get to the ballroom," she said, stepping sideways.
Damien stepped directly into her path.
Of course he did.
His height overshadowed her, forcing her head to tilt up ever so slightly. The proximity made her pulse throb in her throat. The scent of him—clean smoke, cedar, expensive cologne—wrapped around her like a ghost of the past.
"You think after vanishing for three years," he said softly, "that I'm simply going to let you walk away in the hallway?"
Aria exhaled shakily. "Damien, please—"
His eyes flickered at the sound of his name on her lips. A muscle jumped in his jaw. "There it is," he murmured, voice dangerously low. "The way you used to say my name."
Her heart lodged in her ribcage.
This was exactly why she stayed away.
This pull.
This gravity.
This terrifying connection that had never fully died.
She found her voice again. "I'm not who I used to be."
Damien's expression darkened, but not in anger—more like a storm waiting to break. "I can see that."
He reached out abruptly, plucking one of the floral stems from the top of her crate. His fingers were close enough to brush hers. The accidental touch sent a jolt through her body, waking up memories she wanted buried forever.
"You decorate events now?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"You live here? In the city?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
Her breath froze.
She hesitated—but only for a fraction of a second.
And that was enough.
Damien's eyes sharpened. "You hesitated."
"I'm late," Aria whispered desperately. "Please. Just… let me go."
For a moment, he didn't move.
He just stared at her.
Long enough for her pulse to stumble.
Long enough for her knees to weaken.
Long enough for the air between them to thicken with three years' worth of unanswered questions.
Finally, Damien stepped aside.
But his gaze remained locked on her, steady and consuming.
"You can go," he said quietly. "But don't think this conversation is over."
Aria swallowed. "It is."
"No," he answered, voice like velvet over steel, "it isn't. You ran away before. I won't let that happen again."
Her heart fell to the floor.
Without another word, she walked past him—carefully, quickly, desperately. Her legs felt heavy, her vision blurred at the edges.
She didn't breathe again until she turned the corner, out of his sight.
The moment he disappeared from view, she sagged against the wall, chest heaving.
He was here.
He saw her.
He spoke to her.
And he wasn't going to let her vanish.
She felt lightheaded. Her hand pressed instinctively to her chest, as though she could calm the violent rhythm of her heart.
Please, don't find out about Eli.
Please. Please.
Her phone buzzed.
She fumbled it out with trembling fingers.
A voice message from Eli's preschool teacher.
Aria's stomach sank.
She played it immediately:
"Hi, Miss Lawson, sorry to bother you. Eli has a slight fever and has been asking for you. He keeps saying, 'Mommy, come.' Can you come pick him up when you're free?"
Aria clutched the phone to her chest.
Her son needed her.
Her past had found her.
Her future was cracking open beneath her feet.
She didn't have time to fall apart.
She wiped her face, inhaled deeply, and forced herself back into the elevator. Her hands were still shaking when she pressed the button for the ground floor.
She needed to leave. Now.
But as the elevator doors slid shut, a hand shot between them and forced them open.
Damien.
He stepped in. Slowly. Deliberately. His presence filled the space instantly.
Every muscle in her body went rigid.
His voice was a low, controlled murmur. "Running again?"
Her breath stopped.
He pressed the button for the lobby without taking his eyes off her.
"We're not done," he said.
Aria's pulse spiraled.
Because she knew, deep in her bones, that this time…
Damien Cole wouldn't let her escape so easily.