Chapter 59: Chapter 59 There’s no reason to disrupt our celebration
Aria’s POV
I turned to find Vanessa stumbling toward us, wine glass in hand, clearly intoxicated.
My whole body went rigid. I hadn’t expected her to be here.
She wore an elegant ice-blue evening gown with delicate beading, a white silk shawl draped over her shoulders.
She looked sophisticated, expensive—and absolutely furious beneath her alcohol-flushed cheeks.
"Vanessa." Damian’s voice dropped several degrees. "What are you doing here?"
"You’re getting engaged." Her words slurred slightly. "How could I miss the chance to congratulate you?"
She raised her glass toward Damian, then turned her attention to me.
Her eyes raked over me with barely concealed hostility before she forced a smile. "Miss Smith, I didn’t expect he would actually choose you."
The bitterness in her tone was so strong I could practically taste it.
But tonight was my engagement, my moment."And yet, he did."
"But he did."
Vanessa let out a bitter laugh."Yes. He did."
She lifted her glass, staring into the amber liquid."Funny, isn’t it? Some people walk into a room and get everything without even trying."
Her gaze drifted back to Damian."While others spend years waiting."
The ballroom had gone completely silent.
"I guess timing really is everything." Her smile trembled. "You can love someone for years, and it still won’t matter if they never look at you the same way."
For the first time, genuine pain flickered across her face.
Her eyes remained fixed on Damian.Everyone’s attention shifted to him.
"Vanessa, you’re drunk," he said flatly.
No sympathy. No warmth.Nothing.
He nodded to Rick."Please escort Miss Vanessa home."
"Yes, Alpha," Rick said immediately, moving to help her.
But Vanessa pushed past him, swaying toward Damian instead.
"We’re old friends, aren’t we? You won’t refuse one drink from an old friend?" Her voice cracked. "Just one glass, and I’ll leave. I won’t ask your people to help me. I’ll go on my own."
Damian didn’t respond. I watched as he simply picked up his wine glass and drained it in one motion, not even sparing her a glance.
Vanessa’s tears spilled over. "Fine. Fine, Damian. You’ve made yourself clear. I won’t bother you anymore."
She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and downed her own drink.
The moment she lowered the glass, I saw her sway dangerously before she pitched forward—directly toward Damian.
I held my breath, but Damian sidestepped so smoothly she didn’t even graze his sleeve.
Rick, who had clearly anticipated this exact scenario, stepped forward and caught her arm before she could hit the floor.
"Miss Vanessa," Rick said politely. "You’ve had too much to drink. Please allow me to see you home."
I could see that Vanessa had obviously expected Damian to catch her, to show some concern.
His complete avoidance—his refusal to even touch her—left her visibly shaken, and honestly, a little part of me felt sorry for her.
She opened her mouth, probably to say something else, but whatever she saw in Damian’s expression made her swallow the words. Even I could feel the chill radiating from him.
"I don’t need..." She pulled away from Rick weakly, cast one more desperate glance at Damian, then stumbled toward the exit.
The moment she was gone, the atmosphere at our table shifted dramatically.
Everyone stared at Damian. Including me.
But he simply turned the lazy Susan, as if nothing had happened. "Don’t be shy. Eat more."
"Oh. Yes. Thank you, Alpha King," my friends chorused nervously.
Despite their obvious curiosity, none of them dared ask questions in the face of Damian’s commanding presence.
I hesitated, then spoke quietly. "Damian... are you sure you shouldn’t check on Miss Vanessa? She seemed very upset."
I remembered what Vanessa had said to me before—about her history with Damian.
Damian’s expression softened slightly when he looked at me. "Tonight is our engagement party. You’re the center of attention here, not her."
"Rick will make sure she gets home safely. There’s no reason to disrupt our celebration for someone who’s not relevant to our lives."
"I’m your fiancé," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "Leaving you at our own engagement to chase after another woman would be disrespectful. I don’t do things like that."
His words sent an unexpected warmth through my chest.
I couldn’t help but think of Ethan, how he had abandoned me countless times whenever Clara needed him. But here was Damian, refusing to even consider leaving me for his ex.
Maybe this arranged marriage wouldn’t be as cold as I’d expected.
After the ceremony ended, Luna Elena and Alpha Andrew were practically begging me to move into the Blackwood Pack house immediately.
I deflected as gracefully as I could, citing my heavy work schedule and the inconvenience of relocating mid-project.
Damian drove me home personally.
I was exhausted from the long day and fell asleep almost immediately in the car. When I woke, we were parked outside my apartment building.
Damian sat perfectly still in his seat, apparently content to wait however long I needed.
"Damian..." I checked the time and gasped. "I’m so sorry. Did I sleep for over an hour? You should have woken me!"
It was past one in the morning."You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you." His voice was gentle. "You should go inside and get proper rest."
"Thank you," I said, reaching for the door handle.
As I stepped out of the car, I glanced back through the window. Damian was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, exhaustion etched across his features.
He had to be even more tired than I was, busier than I could imagine.
But he’d hidden it so well—this momentary glimpse of vulnerability was the first crack I’d seen in his controlled exterior.
Something twisted in my chest as I watched him.
He had to be even more tired than I was. The King had responsibilities I couldn’t even begin to imagine, yet he’d spent the entire evening making sure I felt valued and protected.
"Damian?" My voice came out quieter than I intended.
He looked at me, those storm-grey eyes focusing with an intensity that made my breath catch.
"Would you... would you like to come up? For coffee or something?" The words tumbled out before I could second-guess them. "You look exhausted. You shouldn’t drive like this."
Something flickered in his expression—surprise, maybe, or something warmer.
"Are you sure?" His voice had gone lower, rougher around the edges.
I nodded, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I’m sure."
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