Chapter 182: Chapter 183: The Private Dinner
ARIA’S POV
The car pulled up to a familiar building, and Aria felt her breath catch as recognition washed over her. Alinea. The exclusive Michelin-starred restaurant where Damien had taken her on their first official date....back when she was still pretending to be Sarah the maid, back when everything between them had been complicated by lies and secrets she couldn’t share.
So much had changed since then. And yet, somehow, everything was exactly the same.
"Alinea?" she said softly, turning to look at Damien in the dim interior of the car.
His expression was unreadable in the shadows, but she could see the intensity in his dark eyes. "I thought it was appropriate."
The driver opened her door, and Damien was immediately there, offering his hand to help her out. His fingers closed around hers....warm, possessive, claiming...and he didn’t let go as they walked toward the entrance.
The restaurant looked exactly as she remembered. Elegant. Sophisticated. The kind of place where a single meal cost more than most people made in a week. The floor-to-ceiling windows glowed with warm light, and she could see the tasteful minimalist decor inside.
But something was different.
As they approached the entrance, Aria noticed there were no other cars in the parking area. No other guests visible through the windows. The restaurant, which was usually bustling with wealthy diners and attentive staff, appeared completely empty.
"Damien," she said slowly, pausing at the door. "Where is everyone?"
He smiled then...that small, satisfied smile that told her he’d planned something elaborate. "There is no everyone. Just us."
"You didn’t."
"I did." He opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter. "I booked the entire restaurant for the evening."
Aria stepped inside and looked around at the empty dining room. It was surreal....this space that was usually filled with the quiet murmur of conversation and the gentle clink of expensive silverware against fine china, now completely silent and reserved exclusively for them.
"Damien, this is..." She turned to look at him, not quite sure what to say. "This is excessive, even for you."
"Is it?" He moved closer, his hand settling on her lower back in that possessive way he had. "I wanted you to have my complete attention tonight. No distractions. No other people. No interruptions. Just you and me, Aria. Is that so excessive?"
When he put it like that, when he looked at her with that intensity that suggested she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him, she couldn’t quite argue.
"It’s very you," she said finally, smiling despite herself.
"Good evening, Mr. Blackwood, Miss Chen." The maître d’ appeared from the back, his expression professionally pleasant but unsurprised by the empty restaurant. Clearly, he’d been well-briefed on tonight’s arrangements. "Your table is ready. Please, follow me."
He led them through the empty dining room to the same table where they’d sat on their first date. The one by the window with the perfect view of the city lights. The table was set beautifully.....crisp white linens, gleaming silverware, fresh flowers in a crystal vase, candles flickering softly.
Damien pulled out her chair, and Aria sat, feeling oddly emotional. The last time she’d sat at this table, she’d been terrified he would discover her true identity, would realize she was the infiltrator who’d broken into his home and stolen from him. She’d been playing a role, pretending to be someone she wasn’t, lying with every word.
Now she sat here as herself. Aria Chen. His girlfriend. The woman he loved. No more masks. No more deception.
Well. Except for one small secret about a certain corporate empire she’d destroyed just last night. But that was different. That was her protecting herself, not lying to hurt him.
"Wine?" The maître d’ gestured, and a young waitress appeared from the kitchen carrying an expensive bottle.
Aria glanced at the label and recognized it immediately....a 2015 Château Margaux, one of the most expensive wines in the world. Of course Damien had ordered it. Excessive didn’t even begin to cover his approach to everything.
The waitress was young, maybe twenty-three or twenty-four, with blonde hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail and the kind of classically beautiful features that probably got her a lot of attention. She approached their table with the wine bottle, her professional smile firmly in place.
But as she began to pour, Aria noticed the way the girl’s eyes lingered on Damien. The way her gaze traveled from his face down to his hands, then back up again. The slight flush that colored her cheeks. The way she angled her body toward him, unconsciously presenting herself.
It was subtle. Professional enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice. But Aria had become very, very good at reading when women were interested in Damien Blackwood.
And this waitress was definitely interested.
The amusing part....the part that made Aria smile despite the small flicker of possessive irritation....was that Damien didn’t notice at all. His eyes were on Aria. Only on Aria. Watching her with that intense focus he always had, as if she was the only person in the entire world who mattered.
The waitress finished pouring Damien’s wine, then moved to Aria’s glass. Aria looked up at her, made direct eye contact, and smiled pleasantly.
The waitress saw Aria watching her. Her eyes widened slightly, and a deeper blush colored her cheeks. She quickly finished pouring and practically fled back toward the kitchen, her professional composure cracking.
Aria picked up her wine glass, brought it to her lips, and took a slow sip. The wine was excellent....rich and complex with notes of dark fruit and oak. Probably cost more than her monthly rent when she’d lived in Chinatown.
All the while, Damien’s eyes never left her. She could feel his gaze tracking her every movement. The way she lifted the glass. The way her lips touched the rim. The way her throat moved as she swallowed.
When she looked up, his eyes had darkened with that familiar hunger that had nothing to do with food. His jaw was tight, and she watched him swallow hard, his control visibly strained.
Aria felt a small thrill of power. Even after everything....after all the times they’d been together, all the ways he’d claimed her body....she could still affect him like this. Could still make him lose that iron control just by drinking wine.
She set the glass down and smiled at him. "You’re very popular among women, Mr. Blackwood."
The way she said it.....the way she drew out the "Mr. Blackwood" with just a hint of teasing formality....made his eyes flash with heat. She saw the exact moment his body reacted, saw the way his hands tightened on his own wine glass, saw the slight shift in his posture.
God, she loved having this effect on him.
"Am I?" His voice was carefully controlled, but she could hear the roughness beneath it.
Aria twisted her wine glass in her hand, watching the dark liquid catch the candlelight. "That waitress was checking you out. Quite obviously, actually."
Damien’s expression didn’t change. "Really? I didn’t notice."
"Typical Damien," she said with a soft laugh. "Completely oblivious to anyone who isn’t me. umm?"
"Not oblivious." His eyes locked with hers, intense and possessive. "Just completely uninterested. There’s a difference, Aria. I don’t see other women because you’re the only one I want to see. The only one who matters."
