His to Love, Not to Claim

Aria POV

The call came just before noon.

Dominic's voice was rushed but steady. "Hy, there's a folder I left in the second drawer of my desk. Black, leather-bound. It has the Biancci proposal. I need it here now."

She'd barely managed a "Got it," before he hung up.

The last few days between them had been strange. Quieter. Tense.

He hadn't said much since the gala. And neither had she.

Still, she didn't hesitate.

This was her job.

⸻

By the time she reached the Voss Global building, the folder clutched tightly in her hand, the weight of her necklace still cold against her skin, she'd convinced herself that maybe today would shift things.

Maybe she'd hand him the file, he'd thank her, maybe smile like he used to when she caught him off guard.

Maybe they'd talk.

Maybe something would feel okay again.

She took the private elevator to the top floor security barely glanced at her. Everyone here knew who she was now. That was part of the problem.

The doors slid open with a soft chime.

And that's when she saw them.

⸻

Dominic's office doors were half closed  just enough that she would've walked past them...If it weren't for the voice.

Low. Laughter. Feminine.

Nina.

Aria stopped.

Something cold unfurled in her chest.

She didn't mean to look. Not at first. She really didn't.

But curiosity isn't kind especially when it feels like protection.

She moved closer. Quietly. The kind of quiet you only use when something inside you already knows the truth.

And then she saw it.

Dominic.

Leaning against his desk.

Nina.

Too close. One hand on his chest.

She whispered something in his ear Aria couldn't hear what and smiled.

Dominic didn't push her away.

He didn't touch her back either.

But he didn't move.

And that silence screamed louder than anything else.

Aria's breath caught.

It didn't matter what the context was. Didn't matter if it was staged or bait or just one more trick in this twisted game he was playing with his family.

What mattered was this,

She felt like a fool.

⸻

She didn't wait.

She placed the folder neatly on the glass coffee table outside his office.

Turned.

Left.

Walked back into the elevator with fire in her chest and glass in her lungs.

By the time the doors closed, her hands were shaking.

She didn't cry. Not yet.

She didn't rage either.

Because it wasn't just about Dominic. Or Nina.

It was about every man who made her feel seen until she realized she was only ever being used.

⸻

Back in the penthouse, Aria stood at the edge of the massive windows, the city stretching out before her like a lie.

She clutched her stomach, protectively, instinctively.

Her baby kicked once  a small flutter, like a whisper reminding her that this was real. That she wasn't alone.

But in that moment, she didn't feel strong.

She felt like she'd stepped into something much bigger than her darker, sharper, and more dangerous.

And she wasn't sure if she could survive it this time.