The boy was healing.
Slowly. Unevenly. Like a cracked wall someone kept trying to repaint without fixing the damage underneath.
But still—progress.
His cheeks had the faintest hint of softness now. Not much, but enough that when Aria pinched them, it didn't feel like she was testing the structural integrity of a skeleton.
She tilted his chin left, then right, inspecting like a very judgmental artist.
"Hmm. Still under construction," she muttered. "But at least you no longer look like a haunted coat hanger."
The boy froze.
His lashes dropped instantly, shoulders tightening like he'd just been sentenced for a crime he didn't understand.
Aria blinked.
Oh.
Right.
Internal filter, where are you?
She clicked her tongue. "Relax. That was a compliment. A slightly aggressive one, but still a compliment."
He didn't look convinced.
Great. I'm raising a traumatized kitten with abandonment issues and zero sarcasm tolerance.
Fantastic.
She grabbed a book from the bedside table and lightly tapped his head with it.
"Alright. Enough staring into the void like a tragic novel cover. It's time for class."
He looked up, confused.
Class?
Aria waved the book in front of his face.
"And before you judge me—yes, it's fairy tales. No, you don't get an opinion."
He stared at the cover.
Then at her.
Then back at the book.
His expression practically screamed: I am fifteen, not five.
Aria raised a brow. "You can either read fairy tales with me, or I can drag in a finance textbook and ruin your will to live. Choose wisely."
…He stayed silent.
"Exactly," she smirked. "Thought so."
She flipped the book open and began reading, voice low and steady.
"There were five peas in a pod…"
At first, he listened stiffly.
Like he expected the moment to shatter.
Like kindness came with a hidden invoice.
But slowly… something shifted.
His gaze drifted—not to the book—but to her.
Aria, leaning casually against the headboard, one leg crossed over the other, reading like this was the most normal thing in the world.
No cold aura.
No suffocating authority.
Just… warmth.
He didn't know the word for it.
But if he had to try—
It felt safe.
Aria paused mid-sentence and flicked his forehead lightly.
"Focus. I'm not performing for free."
He blinked.
Then nodded.
Good. She thought. Progress. Minimal, but I'll take it.
When the story ended, she snapped the book shut.
"Alright. Pop quiz."
The boy stiffened again.
"What was the story about?"
Silence.
His fingers clenched into the blanket.
His lips parted—
Then pressed shut again.
Frustration flickered in his eyes. Sharp. Painful.
Aria saw it instantly.
Oh.
Oh, hell.
She groaned and smacked her own forehead. "Right. Genius move, Aria. Ask the guy who can barely speak to summarize literature. Brilliant. Truly groundbreaking."
He startled.
Then—hesitantly—reached out.
His fingers touched her wrist.
Light.
Careful.
Like he thought she might disappear.
Aria stilled.
He looked at her, shaking his head slightly.
Don't hurt yourself.
That's what it meant.
Her expression softened—just for a second.
"…Yeah, yeah. I got it," she muttered. "No self-inflicted damage. Noted."
She exhaled, then reopened the book.
"Alright. New plan. I read. You repeat. We build from there."
He nodded.
She spoke slowly. "There… is… one…"
"There…" he tried.
His voice was rough. Fragile. Like broken glass dragged across stone.
"…one…"
He stopped.
Breathing uneven.
But his eyes—
They were shining.
Aria leaned back slightly, a small smirk tugging at her lips.
"Not bad," she said. "See? Not impossible. You're just dramatic."
Two hours later, she finally closed the book.
"That's enough for today. Any more and your brain might file a complaint."
He looked… reluctant.
Like he didn't want her to leave.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Aria stood up anyway and pulled the blanket over him.
"Sleep. Heal. Exist peacefully for once."
She paused.
Then added, softer—
"When you wake up, we'll eat together."
His fingers tightened slightly around the blanket.
A silent agreement.
—
Later, in the study—
Aria sat behind the massive desk, posture straight, expression cold enough to freeze hell over.
Across from her stood a man—tall, sharp-eyed, dangerous in a very I've survived too much kind of way.
"Don't kneel," she said flatly as he began to move.
He froze.
"…Understood."
"Good. I'm not running a medieval drama."
She leaned back slightly, fingers tapping the armrest.
"Report."
He straightened. "The situation with Darius Kade is escalating. He's expanding into territories he shouldn't be touching."
Aria's lips curved faintly.
"Ambitious. I like that."
A pause.
"Also makes him easier to bury."
The man—Kael Verin—didn't react.
Smart.
"I want you to push him," she continued. "Make him greedy. Make him reckless. Then we dismantle everything at once."
Kael's eyes sharpened. "Understood."
She tilted her head slightly. "And your loyalty?"
He met her gaze directly. "Yours."
Aria smirked.
"Good answer."
Because the wrong one wouldn't have a second chance.
—
Back in the bedroom—
The boy was awake.
Again.
He hadn't slept.
Instead, he stared at the ceiling like it might vanish if he blinked too long.
When Aria walked in, his gaze snapped to her instantly.
Still there.
Still real.
Still… his anchor.
She noticed.
Of course she noticed.
"Wow," she muttered. "That stare is intense. Should I be concerned?"
He hesitated.
Then—slowly—
He pointed at himself.
Then at her.
Then… made a questioning gesture.
Aria paused.
"…You want to say something?"
He nodded.
Struggled.
His lips trembled slightly.
"…na…"
Nothing.
Frustration flashed again.
Aria watched quietly.
Then sat down beside him.
"Hey," she said, softer this time. "No rush. We're not in a race."
He swallowed.
Tried again.
"…na…me…"
Progress.
Her eyes lit up slightly.
"Oh."
A beat.
"You want to tell me your name?"
He froze.
Then slowly—
Shook his head.
No.
Aria frowned.
"Then… you want to know mine?"
Another head shake.
She blinked.
"…Okay, now you're confusing me on purpose."
He took a shaky breath.
Then pointed—
At himself.
Again.
Aria went still.
Oh.
Oh.
He doesn't know his own name.
Something cold settled in her chest.
Something sharp.
Something furious.
She didn't show it.
Instead, she leaned back slightly, studying him.
"Well," she said casually, "that's inconvenient."
A pause.
Then, quieter—
"Guess I'll have to give you one."
His eyes widened slightly.
Waiting.
Careful.
Like this moment mattered more than anything.
Aria rested her chin on her hand, pretending to think.
But truthfully—
She chose instantly.
"Rowan," she said.
The name landed softly between them.
"Rowan Hale."
Silence.
Then—
Something broke.
Not in a bad way.
In a way that sounded like chains quietly unlocking.
His lips moved.
Slow.
Careful.
"…Ro…wan…"
Aria smiled.
Small. Rare. Real.
"Yeah," she said. "That's you."
Rowan Hale.
And for the first time—
He looked like someone who existed.