CHAPTER EIGHT: THE FIRST MEETING
Aria's hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Every step felt heavier than the last as she walked down the narrow sidewalk leading to Eli's preschool. The morning sun was soft and golden, warming the pavement, but she felt cold inside—cold and terrified and unprepared for what was coming.
Damien walked beside her, silent, his expression stern and unreadable. But his eyes… his eyes carried something she had never seen in him before.
Fear.
Raw, controlled, almost reverent fear.
The fear of a man who was about to meet a part of himself he never knew existed.
Aria's breath hitched as they approached the gate. Children's laughter floated through the air. High voices. Small feet running on the playground.
Her heart twisted violently.
Damien slowed to a stop at the gate, his posture stiff, his chest rising and falling too quickly for someone usually carved from iron.
Aria swallowed hard.
"He'll be coming out any minute," she said quietly. "It's pick-up time."
Damien nodded, but he didn't speak.
Didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
His fingers tightened around the metal bar of the gate, and for the first time since she'd known him, Damien looked… unsure.
Aria looked up at him.
"You don't have to be nervous."
"I'm not nervous." His voice was low, hoarse.
Then after a pause—
"I'm… something I've never been before."
Her eyes softened. "Overwhelmed?"
"No." He exhaled shakily.
"Human."
Aria's chest tightened.
A small group of children ran out of the classroom, holding their drawings. A teacher followed them, smiling, calling names as parents waited.
Damien's grip on the gate tightened until his knuckles turned white.
Aria scanned the group.
And then—
Her heart stilled.
There he was.
Eli.
Small. Bright-eyed. Wearing his blue backpack and holding a crumpled sheet of paper with stars drawn in crooked lines.
His hair caught the sunlight just like Damien's.
His little brows were shaped the same.
Aria felt tears burn her eyes.
Damien inhaled sharply—so sharply it sounded like pain—as his son came into view.
He took a half-step forward before catching himself.
"Aria," he whispered, voice breaking, "that's him?"
She nodded slowly.
"That's Eli."
Damien's chest caved with a silent exhale.
His eyes—cold, powerful, untouchable Damien Cole—went soft in a way she had never seen, not even in their most intimate moments.
Eli's teacher spotted Aria.
"Eli! Mommy's here!"
Eli turned, face lighting up, and ran toward her.
"Mama!"
Aria crouched and embraced him tightly, burying her face in his hair.
She felt Damien watching them—no, starving for the sight—every breath inside him pulled toward the small boy in her arms.
Eli pulled away, smiling up at her—
Then paused.
His gaze shifted to the tall man standing beside her.
His small brows furrowed.
He tilted his head, curious.
Innocent.
"Mommy," Eli whispered, "who's that?"
Aria's heart pounded so hard she thought she might faint.
She looked at Damien.
Damien looked at her.
Three years of silence hung between them.
Aria lowered her voice.
"This is… someone very important, Eli."
Damien swallowed hard, stepping closer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As though approaching something sacred.
He kneeled—
Damien Cole, the man who commanded boardrooms, silenced rooms, and controlled empires—
kneeled in front of a four-year-old.
He met Eli's eyes.
Gentle.
Open.
Destroyed.
"Hi," Damien said softly.
His voice trembled.
"I'm… I'm Damien."
Eli blinked, watching him with wide, wary eyes.
Aria's breath shook as she watched Damien's hands tremble—feet away from the son he never knew.
Eli inched closer, gripping Aria's leg.
"Hi," Eli whispered, shy but curious.
Damien's eyes softened so intensely it hurt to look at him.
There was a pause—long, heavy, breathless.
Damien reached slowly into his jacket and pulled out something small.
A folded paper crane.
Carefully made.
Delicate.
He held it out with unsteady fingers.
"I made this," Damien murmured.
"I wanted to… give it to you."
Eli stared at it in awe, then let go of Aria's leg. He stepped forward, tiny hands reaching out.
He took the crane gently, inspecting it like treasure.
"For me?" Eli whispered.
Damien nodded, voice cracking.
"For you."
Eli smiled—soft and bright—and something inside Damien shattered visibly.
He blinked rapidly, jaw tightening.
But one tear escaped, sliding down his cheek.
Aria covered her mouth.
Eli tilted his head.
"You're crying."
Damien laughed a broken sound.
"I'm… happy."
Eli stepped closer and placed his small hand on Damien's knee.
"It's okay," the little boy said simply.
Damien closed his eyes.
Aria felt the world tilt.
Eli looked up at her.
"Mommy… is he nice?"
Aria's throat closed.
She looked at Damien—kneeling, trembling, eyes shining with more emotion than she'd ever seen in him.
She nodded.
"Yes, baby. He's nice."
Eli blinked at her.
"Can we take him home?"
Damien inhaled sharply.
Aria froze.
Damien's eyes snapped to hers—the question loud in his gaze, his hope too fragile to breathe on.
Eli tugged Damien's sleeve.
"Do you wanna come to my house? We have pancakes."
Damien let out a choked sound—half laugh, half sob.
"I… I would love that."
Aria's chest ached.
Eli held out his tiny hand.
"Come."
Damien stared at the hand.
The offer.
The connection he'd missed for three years.
Slowly, reverently, he took it.
Eli beamed.
Damien's world collapsed.
And Aria knew—
Everything was about to change.