Chapter 183: Chapter 184: I Am Enjoying The View
Her heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he said things like that. When he looked at her like she was the center of his universe.
"Can we eat now, please?" she said, deliberately changing the subject before she got too emotional. "I’m starving. I barely had time for lunch today because...."
She didn’t finish her sentence because the same blonde waitress reappeared, this time accompanied by two other servers, all carrying covered dishes. They moved with practiced efficiency, setting plates down in front of both Aria and Damien, removing the silver covers with synchronized precision.
And Aria’s breath caught again because of course....of course....Damien had pre-ordered all her favorite dishes.
Pan-seared scallops with truffle butter. Wagyu beef carpaccio with microgreens and aged parmesan. Fresh lobster tail with drawn butter and lemon. Roasted duck breast with cherry reduction. Each dish was a work of art, plated with the kind of precision that only Michelin-starred restaurants achieved.
"Damien," she breathed, looking at the spread before her. "This is too much."
"It’s exactly enough." His eyes were warm now, satisfied by her reaction. "I want you to have everything you want, Aria. Always."
The waitresses retreated, and Aria didn’t waste any more time on protests. She was genuinely hungry....the stress of the past few days, the time she had spent hacking Harold’s systems, the anxiety of keeping that secret from Damien....all of it had left her with barely any appetite until now.
But now, surrounded by food that smelled absolutely incredible, her stomach reminded her she’d skipped both breakfast and lunch.
She picked up her fork and dove into the scallops first. The moment the first bite hit her tongue, she actually moaned. Couldn’t help it. The scallops were perfectly cooked....seared on the outside, buttery and tender on the inside, the truffle adding an earthy richness that elevated the dish to something transcendent.
When she looked up, Damien hadn’t touched his own food. He was just watching her eat with an expression that made heat pool in her lower belly. His eyes were dark, predatory, hungry in a way that had nothing to do with the meal in front of him.
He looked like he wanted to sweep all the dishes off the table and take her right there.
"Damien," she said, her voice coming out slightly breathless. "You’re not eating."
"I’m enjoying the view."
"The view of me eating scallops?"
"The view of you experiencing pleasure." His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "Watching you enjoy something. Hearing those sounds you make. Seeing your face when you taste something you love. It’s..." He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "It’s better than any food could be."
Aria felt her cheeks warm. "You’re being ridiculous."
"I’m being honest." He picked up his own fork, but his eyes never left her face. "Eat, Aria. I want to watch you enjoy every bite."
And so she did. She ate the scallops, then moved to the carpaccio, then the lobster. Each dish was perfect....expertly prepared, exquisitely flavored, the kind of meal that people flew to Chicago specifically to experience.
But more than the food, she was aware of Damien. Of the way he watched her. Of the way his eyes tracked every movement of her fork to her mouth. Of the way he seemed to take genuine pleasure in her enjoyment, as if feeding her, providing for her, giving her things that made her happy was its own reward.
"How was your day?" he asked eventually, his voice conversational but his eyes still intense. "You mentioned you barely had time for lunch. Was it busy at the hospital?"
Aria’s hand hesitated for just a fraction of a second before she speared another piece of lobster. "It was good. Busy, but good. I had consultations with three different patients, attended rounds with Dr. Morrison, and sat in on a department meeting about implementing new protocols."
All true. All completely accurate. And none of it mentioning what she’d actually spent three hours doing that evening.
"No problems? No one giving you trouble?" The question seemed casual, but she could hear the underlying steel. Damien was always alert for threats, always ready to destroy anyone who made her life difficult.
"No problems at all. Everyone’s been really welcoming, actually. The other doctors seem happy to have me on the team."
Also true. The medical staff at Mont Senai had been nothing but professional and supportive since she’d started.
"Good." Damien took a sip of his wine, his eyes still on her face. "And after work? What did you do before coming to my office?"
This was where it got tricky. This was where she had to decide how much to share, how much to hide.
"Just finished up some paperwork," she said, keeping her voice light and casual. "Reviewed patient files. The usual end-of-day administrative stuff that’s incredibly boring but necessary."
Not technically a lie. She had reviewed patient files. Had done paperwork. She just... hadn’t mentioned the other thing she’d done. The thing that was currently causing a billion-dollar empire to collapse and federal investigators to descend on Harold Ashford’s life.
Damien watched her for a long moment, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he could see right through her. That he knew she was hiding something, even if he didn’t know exactly what.
But he didn’t push. Didn’t interrogate. Just nodded and said, "I’m glad you’re settling in well. Medicine is where you belong, Aria. I can see how happy it makes you."
"It does," she said softly, genuinely. "I feel like I’m finally doing what I’m meant to do. Finally using my skills for something that matters."
The irony of that statement....given that she’d just used her hacking skills to destroy a man’s empire....wasn’t lost on her. But in a way, that mattered too. Harold Ashford had tried to sabotage her return to medicine, had tried to destroy her career before it even started. Taking him down had been about protecting herself, about ensuring he could never threaten her again.
That mattered. Even if she couldn’t tell Damien about it yet.
They continued eating, the conversation flowing easily between them. Damien told her about a merger he was negotiating, about some of the challenges with integrating a new company into the Blackwood Enterprises portfolio. Aria told him about one of her patients....a young woman with a rare autoimmune disorder who was responding well to a new treatment protocol.
It felt normal. Comfortable. Like they were just a regular couple having dinner and talking about their days.
Except they weren’t regular. Would never be regular. Damien was one of the most powerful men in the city, and she was... well, she was still figuring out exactly what she was.
The waitress returned to clear their plates, moving quickly and efficiently without making eye contact with Damien this time. Aria hid a smile. Message received, apparently.
"Dessert?" the girl asked, her voice professionally neutral.
"What do you think?" Damien asked Aria.
She was full....probably more full than she’d been in days....but the thought of dessert at Alinea was tempting. Their pastry chef was legendary.
"What are the options?"
