My Billionaire Husband's son

ARIA'S POINT OF VIEW

I just stood there, frozen. Damien Ashford's hand remained outstretched between us, as if it was meant to be there, and I was the one intruding on something already settled. The rain had eased to a steady, cold drizzle, patient like him.

"I don't need a solution," I Muttered, my voice even weaker this time. He tilted his head.

"You do," he countered.

"You're just not accustomed to accepting help that isn't sugar-coated." That hit a nerve. Because, frankly, it was true in a way I hated to admit. I looked away, down at the churning, dark water beneath the bridge. It felt so fast, so indifferent.

Everything tonight felt that way. Fast. Dark. Indifferent. Behind me, my life was still going up in flames. Ahead of me... this stranger. Someone I couldn't begin to understand. Someone offering marriage like it was a business deal, not a life.

"I don't even really know you," I whispered. After a beat, he simply stated,

"Damien Ashford."

"I *know* that," I snapped, frustrated.

"I mean...... I've only heard your name......who are you to think you can just... do this?" Something flickered in his eyes, not offense, but amusement.

"I don't *think* I can," he said.

"I *know* I can." That sheer arrogance should have sent me running. Instead, my chest tightened. People who spoke like that usually held all the cards. I swallowed.

"You mentioned revenge," I murmured.

"Against my family."

"Yes."

"And Marcus?" Another slight pause.

"Yes." My fingers clenched tighter.

"What did they do to you?" That question finally seemed to get his attention, not in an emotional way, but like I'd stumbled too close to something I shouldn't.

"You sound like you want revenge too"

"That's not important," he said.

"It is to me," I shot back immediately. A heavy silence fell between us, filled only by the rain. Then Damien spoke, his voice slower now.

"You're asking questions that don't serve you right now."

"That sounds like a threat," I said.

"It's a warning." My heart hammered against my ribs. I hated how infuriatingly calm he was, as if nothing could shake him, as if I was the only unstable element in this whole mess.

"I don't trust you," I declared.

"Good," he replied instantly. I blinked. That was not what I expected. He continued,

"Trust makes people predictable. I don't need you to be predictable." My breath hitched.

"Then what *do* you need from me?" His gaze locked with mine, holding it for a moment too long. Then he said,

"Compliance." The word landed like a punch to the gut. My throat felt tight.

"Com... what?" He didn't soften it or rephrase it, just let it hang there.

"I will handle everything," he stated.

"Your family. Your ex-fiancé. Your reputation." A beat passed.

"You will play your part." My chest rose sharply.

"And what part is that?" His voice dropped slightly.

"Wife." The word didn't evoke romance; it felt like ownership. I immediately took a step back.

"No." A single, hard, final word. Damien didn't flinch, not even a little. He simply lowered his hand, slowly, as if he'd anticipated my refusal.

"You'll say no," he said calmly,

"because you still believe you have options." I frowned.

"I *do* have options." He looked at me then, really looked, and something in his expression sent a chill down my spine.

"No," he said, quiet and certain.

"You don't." A silence descended, heavier than the rain. I hated that my mind tried to disprove him and failed. Because he wasn't lying. My family had made that abundantly clear. Marcus had made that clear. Even the world had made it clear when no one stepped up for me.

Damien took a small step back, turning towards his car. For a second, I thought he was leaving. Then he spoke without looking back.

"You can stay here," he said, "and wait for them to decide what happens next." A pause.

"Or you can come with me... and decide for yourself." He glanced over his shoulder.

"Choose." The word echoed, but it didn't feel like a choice at all. It felt like a cruel illusion. My fingers trembled at my sides, my wedding dress a damp reminder of everything I'd already lost. Behind me ..... nothing. Ahead of me...... him.

A man who offered no comfort, no lies, just danger presented in a perfectly straight line. I took a step forward, then stopped. My voice cracked.

"If I come with you... what am I to you?" Damien paused, just for a second, then answered,

"A beginning." It wasn't an answer, but somehow, it felt worse. I closed my eyes, took a breath, then another. And then I walked forward. Not running, not falling. Walking. Straight into the rain. Straight towards him.

The instant I reached the car, the door swung open automatically. Warm air washed over me, a contrast so stark it made my chest ache. I hesitated one last time before getting in. The door clicked shut behind me, silence swallowing everything.

Damien slid in after me, as calm as ever, the world outside vanishing behind tinted glass. For a moment, we just sat there. Then the car began to move, slowly, irrevocably, like something irreversible had just begun.

I stared out the window as the bridge faded behind us, my old life receding into a distance I could no longer reach. My voice was barely a whisper.

"What happens now?" Damien didn't look at me.

"Now," he said,

"you stop being their victim." A pause, then colder,

"And start becoming something they can't control......My wife" The car turned onto the main road, and I realized, I had just left my entire life behind... without having the faintest idea of what I was walking into.