Chapter 41: Chapter 41 Sweet Mornings
Aria’s POV
After freshening up in the attached bathroom—which was bigger than my entire bedroom back at the apartment—I made my way downstairs.
The housekeeper was waiting for me in the hallway, her expression warm and professional.
"His Majesty asked me to let you know that he only brought you to the guest room last night," she said gently. "He wanted to make sure you were comfortable and safe."
Relief flooded through me so fast I nearly laughed. "Thank you for telling me."
So he hadn’t stayed. That was good. That was... professional. Exactly what this arrangement called for.
So why did a tiny, irrational part of me feel disappointed?
I shook the thought away and followed the housekeeper through a series of elegant hallways until we reached a dining room that looked like something out of a luxury magazine.
And there he was.
Damian sat at the head of a long table, dressed in a charcoal suit that fit him perfectly. He looked every bit the powerful Alpha King—sharp, composed, and impossibly intimidating.
My heart did an unwelcome little flip.
"Good morning,Alpha Damian," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
His gray eyes flicked up to meet mine, his expression unreadable. "Morning."
A flash of memory hit me—me pressed against his chest, his arms steady around me, his voice low and commanding as he told Rick to handle the situation.
Heat crept up my neck. "About last night..."
God, I didn’t even know where to start. Thank you for saving me? Sorry I passed out on you like a drunk mess again? Please forget everything I said?
"You had too much to drink," Damian said evenly, cutting through my mortification. "I brought you back here. Did you sleep well?"
It was a lifeline, and I grabbed it gratefully. "Yes, very well. Your guest room is incredibly comfortable."
One of the housekeepers gestured toward an elaborate buffet setup along the side of the room.
There were at least fifty different options—everything from delicate pastries to perfectly poached eggs, fresh fruit arrangements, artisan breads, and even a selection of gourmet breakfast sandwiches.
It looked like something you’d find at a five-star hotel.
"Miss Smith, please help yourself. If you’d like, I can prepare a plate for you."
"No, thank you. I can manage."
I moved toward the buffet, trying not to gawk at the sheer variety.
My appetite was usually nonexistent in the mornings, especially with a hangover, but everything looked so beautifully presented that I found myself picking up a plate anyway.
I ended up selecting a few mini quiches and a couple of perfectly golden croissants, along with some fresh berries. Comfort food. I needed comfort food.
When I sat down across from Damian, I noticed his breakfast was far more austere—a single cup of black coffee and a small bowl of scrambled eggs.
"Do you always eat sweet things for breakfast?" His voice broke the silence, and I realized he’d been watching me.
I glanced down at my plate, suddenly self-conscious. "They help improve my mood. Especially on mornings like this."
I picked up my fork and cut off a small piece of one of the quiches. "Would you like to try some? This one’s really good."
The moment the words left my mouth, I saw Damian’s brow twitch slightly, and I froze.
Oh God. I’d just offered him food from my own fork.
"I’m so sorry," I blurted, pulling my hand back quickly. "I wasn’t thinking. That was so rude of me."
But before I could fully retreat, Damian caught my wrist. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned forward and closed his lips around the fork, his eyes never leaving mine.
My breath caught. The sight of his mouth closing around those tines—the same mouth that had been between my legs that night—sent heat pooling low in my belly.
My thighs pressed together under the table.
Then I heard Rick’s voice."Your Majesty!"
Damian’s jaw tightened as he swallowed. His eyes cut to Rick like a blade.
Rick immediately shut his mouth.
I stared at Damian, completely bewildered. "Do you... not like quiche?"
From Rick’s reaction, I was clearly missing something important.
Damian set the fork down with deliberate precision. "I don’t usually eat things like this."
His voice was lower now. His gaze traveled down to my lips and stayed there. "But I’m starting to make exceptions."
My throat went dry. It wasn’t about the quiche.
Wait. Starting to make exceptions?
What did that mean?
My cheeks burned, and I quickly looked down at my plate. "Oh. Well, that’s... good?"
He didn’t answer. He just watched me, his thumb tracing the rim of his coffee cup in a slow circle.
"You’re still hungover."
I nodded sheepishly. "A little."
"You shouldn’t have drunk that much. Do you have any idea what could have happened if I hadn’t shown up?"
"I know," I said quietly. "But I needed those contracts."
"You could have called me."
"I didn’t want to bother you."
Damian’s eyes narrowed. "Bother me?"
"We have an arrangement, Damian, but that doesn’t mean I should come running to you every time I have a problem. I can handle things myself."
For a moment, we just stared at each other across the table.
Then Damian sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Next time, call me first. That’s what I’m here for."
Something warm unfurled in my chest at his words. "Okay."
"Good."
We finished breakfast in a more comfortable silence, and when Damian finally stood, he glanced at Rick. "Have the car ready. Miss Smith needs to get back."
I stood as well, smoothing down my borrowed pajamas awkwardly. "Thank you for everything, Mr. Blackwood. The room, the breakfast, and... last night."
Damian’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary. "You don’t need to thank me, Aria."
The way he said my name—low and deliberate—sent a shiver down my spine.
---
That afternoon, I was going over project timelines with Jennifer when my phone rang.
The caller ID showed a number I didn’t recognize.
"Hello?"
"Miss Smith, this is Horizon Capital Investments. We’d like to offer an additional three hundred million in funding for your current project."
I nearly dropped my phone. "Three hundred million? I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve worked together before. Are you sure you have the right person?"
"We’re certain. We’ve reviewed your team’s capabilities and we’re impressed. No strings attached."
I scheduled a meeting for thirty minutes later, my mind racing. This didn’t make sense. No one just threw that kind of money around without a reason.
The moment I hung up, Jennifer called.
"Aria! Horizon Capital is a subsidiary of the Crown Financial Authority.. They just acquired it last week—it hasn’t even been announced yet!"
My hand tightened around the contract I was holding.
Damian.
Of course it was Damian.
He hadn’t said a word about it this morning. Not a single mention.
Before I signed anything, I pulled out my phone and sent him a message.
Me:[Did you arrange the Horizon Capital investment?]
His response came almost immediately.
Damian:[Yes. Send me the project details later.]
Short, direct, and completely businesslike.
But somehow, that made it mean even more.
I smiled despite myself and typed back.
Me:[Thank you for trusting me with this, Damian.]
I stared at the message for a moment, then, on impulse, added a small heart emoji before hitting send.
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