"Rather than asking questions," Damien said coolly, his voice carrying quiet authority, "you should be helping me get ready… while you prepare yourself as well."
Without wasting another second, he began unbuttoning his shirt.
Aria's breath caught in her throat as she instinctively swallowed hard, her eyes widening slightly despite herself.
And as if that alone wasn't enough, Damien shrugged the shirt off completely, revealing his toned torso. But he didn't stop there.
He reached down and pulled at his shorts....
Aria immediately turned her back to him, her face heating up in both shock and frustration.
For goodness' sake… can someone please order this man some shame from a store? I'll gladly pay for it! she cursed inwardly, clenching her fists slightly.
"You said I was free," Aria began, her voice rising with anger despite her refusal to turn around. "And yet I'm being followed around by those… ridiculous bodyguards you assigned to me!"
Her brows furrowed deeply.
"I couldn't even sit and drink my coffee in peace," she continued sharply. "So why say I'm free when I clearly am not?"
Silence.
No response or even the faintest sound from Damien.
For a brief moment, Aria hesitated.
Did he just… leave?
Frowning slightly, she turned around to check and immediately collided with something solid.
Or rather… someone.
Her forehead hit Damien's chest, the impact making her gasp softly.
Before she could even react....
Damien lifted her effortlessly onto his shoulder.
"Put me down!" Aria yelled, startled, her voice echoing slightly as she struggled. The sudden movement made her glance downward....and the realization that he was still completely undressed only made her fluster worse.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she snapped, her hands pushing lightly against his back in protest.
But Damien didn't respond.
He simply carried her toward the bathroom.
The moment they stepped inside, the soft scent of roses and lavender filled the air.
He finally set her down.
Without a word, Damien walked toward the bathtub....a large one already filled with warm water, its surface decorated with floating rose petals.
Then, he stepped in and lowered himself into the water.
Aria stood frozen for a moment, staring.
"Come here and wash me," Damien said calmly, though the firmness in his tone made it clear it wasn't a request. "There's no need for you to change into any uniform."
He leaned back slightly, resting his arm against the edge of the tub.
"Hurry up," he added. "You need to get ready as well. I assume you'll want to bathe before we leave." His gaze flickered toward her. "It's going to be a long night."
Aria's eyes narrowed.
"Where exactly are we going?" she asked, her tone edged with irritation. "And why should I even get ready to follow you?"
"Come here."
Damien's voice cut through her words.....firm and dangerously low.
"I don't like repeating myself," he added, his gaze sharpening slightly. "Get over here and scrub my body. I don't intend to be late."
The shift in his tone was enough.
She swallowed hard.
Reluctantly, she stepped forward.
Each step felt heavier than the last until she finally reached the bathtub. Slowly, she knelt beside it, her movements controlled despite the tension inside her.
She picked up the sponge and soap.
For a brief moment, she hesitated.
But in the end… she complied.
Aria began to wash him....at first gently, her movements careful and restrained. But as her frustration grew deeper, her grip tightened slightly, her strokes becoming firmer.
"Calm down," Damien said with a heavy sigh, his eyes still closed as he leaned back against the edge of the tub. "You're not scrubbing burnt cooking pots."
Instead of easing up, Aria's grip tightened.
If anything, she scrubbed even harder, her frustration pouring into every movement. The tension in her jaw was visible, her anger no longer hidden.
Just then....
Damien's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist firmly.
His eyes opened slowly, dark and sharp as they fixed on her.
"Didn't you hear what I just said?" he asked, his voice low but edged with warning. He raised an eyebrow slightly. "Or would you prefer I scrub your body the same way you're scrubbing mine?"
Aria stiffened slightly at his grip but didn't pull away immediately.
"Then maybe you should bathe yourself," she shot back, her tone controlled despite the slight tremor beneath it. "If you have such specific expectations, don't blame me for not meeting them."
For a brief moment, silence lingered between them.
Then Damien scoffed.
Without another word, he released her and rose from the bathtub. Water cascaded down his body, droplets tracing along his skin from head to his little brother, his toe before falling back into the tub.
Aria instinctively swallowed hard, her gaze flickering away for a split second before she forced it back to neutrality.
"You should bathe as well," Damien said casually, grabbing a towel.
And just like that, he stepped out of the bathroom without waiting for her response.
Aria exhaled sharply before following after him.
"I already had my bath before going out," she replied, her tone firm as she stepped into the room. "So there's no need."
There's no way I'm bathing in here with him around, she added inwardly, a quiet sigh slipping through her thoughts.
"You should help me get dressed, then," Damien said, his voice returning to that calm, commanding tone as he reached for his clothes.
Aria turned her back to him again, folding her arms.
"I think I'd rather go and take my bath after all," she said, her tone edged with sarcasm. "But first...where exactly are we going?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Or do you think I don't deserve to know where I'm being dragged to?"
"You already said you don't want to bathe," Damien replied flatly. "So stick with that decision."
He began dressing himself with effortless composure.
He buttoned his well-ironed shirt halfway, deliberately leaving part of his tattooed chest exposed, before slipping into a pair of black trousers.
Then he ran oil through his hair, smoothing it back in a way that only made him look more dangerously composed.
"Anyway," he added, glancing briefly in her direction, "we're going to a Mafia ball."
He paused.
"You know what that means," he continued calmly. "So you should already know how to dress."
Aria turned sharply, shock flashing across her face.
"What?" she demanded. "A Mafia ball? And I'm going there for what exactly?"
Her brows furrowed deeply.
"As my lady," Damien replied simply, his tone unwavering. "You already know the rules. Every Don attends with a woman by his side."
Aria let out a dry, humorless scoff.
"Then go with Jessica," she snapped, placing her hands firmly on her waist. "She's a woman, isn't she?"
"Get dressed, Aria," Damien cut in, his voice dropping slightly, losing any patience he had left. "I'm not in the mood for a long discussion."
He stepped toward the door.
"I'll be waiting for you in the car."