His to Love, Not to Claim

Aria POV

The morning after the rooftop, Aria found herself alone again.

It was becoming a pattern with Dominic offering pieces of himself only to retreat like the tide. She didn't blame him. Vulnerability didn't come easy for men like him. But now after everything they'd shared, after the way he looked at her, touched her, claimed her she needed clarity. A sense of direction.

She made her way into his study to return a book she'd borrowed. The shelves were lined with ancient leather bound tomes and high end finance publications. A locked drawer on the side had been left slightly ajar.

She didn't mean to snoop.

But curiosity had a way of making itself at home, especially now that she lived in his.

Inside were photographs loose, unguarded memories.

She pulled out a small bundle, bound with a strip of black ribbon. The first image stopped her breath.

Dominic. Younger. Smiling.

He was standing beside a woman  maybe early twenties, stunning, warm-eyed, with olive-toned skin and a red scarf wrapped around her wrist. They were laughing, candid, the city of Florence behind them.

Aria stared.

Another photo him and the same woman, this time holding hands on a balcony.

The next, the woman asleep against his shoulder on a private jet.

The final one... was different.

The woman was in a hospital bed. Pale. Eyes closed.

Dominic was beside her, holding her hand, lips pressed to her temple.

Something about the photo was so... final.

Aria's stomach twisted.

She heard the door open behind her.

She turned, and Dominic stood in the doorway, silent.

She dropped the photos on the desk.

"I didn't mean to—"she said shaken, why do I have to get caught she thought.

He walked forward, gently picked them up, and put them back into the drawer.

"Elena," he said quietly. "Her name was Elena."

Aria didn't speak. She knew if she did, her voice might crack.

"She was the only person who saw me before I became... this," he gestured vaguely, "She died six years ago. Cancer. Quick. Violent."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He met her eyes. "She wanted to run away with me. She didn't care about the money or the reputation. Just... the quiet."

Aria saw something crack behind his expression. A fracture in the control.

"After she died," he said slowly, "I built walls. I made promises. No more attachments. No more illusions."

"And now?" she asked softly.

His jaw tightened. "You're not an illusion."

She swallowed the knot rising in her throat. "And what does that mean for me... and the baby?" She wanted to know where she stands in his life, in his world.

Dominic moved toward her. "It means I'm going to make mistakes,I'll protect you in ways that feel too much, I'll pull you close and still feel like I'm miles away."

She held her breath.

"But I won't leave. Not you. Not the baby. No matter what comes next."

Her heart ached with the weight of his honesty. That was all she needed to know.

⸻

Later that afternoon, Aria sat at the breakfast bar, toying with her phone when a message came through

NINA."Lunch today? Just like old times. No pressure. Just catch-up. One friend to another."

Aria stared at the screen.

She hadn't seen Nina face to face since the night of the dinner party, Since the look on Nina's face when she saw her beside Dominic. Since she saw them in Dominic's office.

Friend was a stretch. Acquaintance-turned-complication was more accurate.

Still... a part of her was curious, what would she want to meet up for.

She texted back:

ARIA: Sure, One hour? Café Orla? 
 
The response came almost immediately, "sure babe, I can't wait ".

⸻

The café was on a quiet street corner with leafy tables and a too-sweet pastry menu. Aria arrived first, took the corner seat by the window, nerves chewing at her spine.

When Nina walked in, it was like a storm of designer silk and red lipstick. Perfect as ever. She greeted Aria with an effortless smile and an air kiss that didn't quite touch.

"You look well," Nina said, sliding into the seat "Motherhood suits you."

Aria folded her napkin slowly. "You always were good with compliments."

Nina smirked. "I always liked you, Aria. You were untouched. Soft. The kind of woman men like Dominic get addicted to."

Aria stiffened. "We're not here to talk about Dominic."

"Of course not," Nina said, sipping her espresso. "But that doesn't mean we should ignore the facts."

Aria's stomach knotted. "What facts?"

Nina leaned forward, her smile tightening. "That Dominic Voss is not just a man. He's a storm. And storms don't settle. They destroy."

"You don't know him," Aria said, quietly but firmly.

Nina's eyes sparkled with something colder. "Don't I?"

There was a beat of silence.

Then she softened, slightly. "Look, I didn't ask you here to fight. I just wanted to say be careful. There's a world under Dominic you haven't seen yet. And it won't care how pure your heart is."

Aria studied her. "Why are you warning me?"

"Because I've loved him, too. And because if you're smart, you'll figure out who you are without him  before you get lost in him."

Aria's fingers curled around her glass.

The conversation veered into safer waters after that  vague updates, shared laughs about old coworkers, meaningless stories from a life Aria barely recognized anymore.

But Nina's words stayed long after the check was paid.

⸻

Back at the penthouse, Aria sat on the edge of her bed, hand resting over her bump. The baby kicked lightly, reminding her you are not alone.

Dominic walked in minutes later, loosening his tie.

"Lunch good?" he asked casually.

She hesitated. "With Nina."

His brows lifted just slightly, but he said nothing.

"She said... storms don't settle," Aria whispered.

He walked over, crouched in front of her, palms warm on her knees.

"Maybe not," he said, voice low. "But some storms make you stronger."

She looked into his eyes, searching for cracks, and finding instead a storm willing to stand still for her.