When the Walls Crumble

Ariana's Breaking Point

Ariana wasn't someone who let emotions cloud her judgment.

But today, as she sat in Damian's office, staring at the undeniable truth—Callum had found Ryan—her entire world spun out of control.

Damian stood by the window, his sharp eyes locked onto his phone as he barked orders to his men. He was already handling it, already making moves to protect Ryan before Callum could strike.

But none of that eased the storm inside her.

Her hands curled into fists.

Ryan had stayed hidden for years. How had Callum found him? Had she made a mistake? Had she—

Her vision blurred.

The numbers on the report in front of her twisted, the words jumbling together.

She clenched her jaw. Not now.

She hadn't eaten all day. Had barely slept. The stress of everything—the marriage, the media, Callum's threats—was finally catching up to her.

And then—

A sharp pain shot through her temples.

The last thing she saw was Damian turning toward her, his brows furrowing.

Then—darkness.

---

A Soft Kind of Warmth

She woke to the sound of steady breathing.

A cool hand pressed against her forehead, and the scent of cedar and whiskey filled the air.

Ariana blinked. The room was dimly lit, and she wasn't in the office anymore.

She was in Damian's penthouse. In his bed.

And he was sitting beside her, his sleeves rolled up, his expression unreadable.

She tried to sit up—

But the moment she moved, his hand pressed gently against her shoulder.

"Don't."

His voice was quieter than usual.

She frowned. "I'm fine."

Damian arched a brow. "You fainted."

"I was just—"

"You have a fever, Ariana." His jaw tightened. "You've been running on empty for days."

She swallowed. She hated this—hated feeling weak, vulnerable.

But what shocked her wasn't her own condition.

It was him.

Damian Kingsley, the ruthless billionaire, sitting beside her, watching over her like she was something more than just a deal.

She glanced at the damp cloth in his hand.

"You took care of me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze met hers. "Who else would?"

Something in her chest tightened.

She should have laughed. Should have rolled her eyes and told him she didn't need a babysitter.

But instead, she whispered, "Thank you."

His fingers twitched.

For a moment, she thought he might actually touch her face.

But then—just as quickly—he stood.

"You need to rest," he said, his voice back to its usual indifference. "Callum won't get to Ryan. I'll make sure of it."

She wanted to believe him.

And for the first time—she did.

---

A Promise Made

The fever still clung to her when she woke again, but this time, she wasn't alone.

Damian was sitting in a chair by the window, a tablet in his hands.

She groaned. "Do you ever stop working?"

He looked up, his lips curving slightly. "Do you?"

Fair point.

She exhaled. "Any updates?"

His expression hardened. "My men found Ryan's location. Callum hasn't made a move yet, but he will."

Ariana sat up slowly, her head still heavy. "Then I should—"

"You should stay in bed."

She glared at him. "You can't—"

"I can." His eyes locked onto hers. "And I will."

Ariana clenched her jaw. "Damian—"

"I already have my people on it. The best security. The best trackers. Ryan will be safe."

She searched his face, looking for deception.

But there was none.

And that scared her more than anything.

Because for the first time, she realized—

Damian Kingsley wasn't just doing this because of the contract.

He was doing it because he wanted to.

And that?

That was dangerous.

Because she wasn't sure if she could afford to trust him.

---

To Be Continued…