Chapter 164 He would never, ever hurt me
Aria’s POV
The moment we stepped through the door of Damian’s penthouse, my phone buzzed.
It was Rick.
I answered immediately, my heart still racing from everything that had happened at the hospital.
"Queen Luna," Rick’s voice was calm, professional. "We’ve finished interrogating the attacker."
I sank onto the edge of the couch, my legs suddenly weak. Damian was beside me in an instant, his hand settling on my lower back.
"What did he say?" I asked.
Rick didn’t hesitate. "His name is Thomas Garrett. About ten years ago, your father—Vincent Smith—released a scathing review of his company’s flagship project. The review tanked investor confidence. Garrett’s business collapsed within six months."
I closed my eyes, trying to process that.
"His wife worked herself to death trying to save the company," Rick continued, his tone darkening. "Literal exhaustion. She had a stroke at her desk. Garrett blamed your father for everything. When he found out you were Vincent’s daughter, he saw an opportunity for revenge."
My stomach turned.
"How did he even know I’d be at the gala?" I asked quietly.
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"That’s the part we’re still investigating," Rick said carefully. "But he had detailed information about your schedule. Someone tipped him off."
I felt Damian’s hand tighten on my back.
"People like that are a danger to society," Damian said, his voice low and measured.
But there was something underneath it—something cold and merciless. "Rick, I want this handled. Thoroughly."
"Understood, Alpha King."
Damian’s words were always restrained, always carefully chosen. But I’d learned to read the intent behind them. And right now, that intent was lethal.
Even I felt a shiver run down my spine.
"Damian," I said softly, after he ended the call. "Do you think someone put him up to it?"
He looked at me, his expression sharp. "You’re thinking of Sylvia."
I nodded. "It’s just a hunch. But she’s been targeting me nonstop. And how would a struggling businessman get access to a high-profile event like that night?
How would he know exactly where I’d be tonight?"
Damian’s jaw clenched. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I saw the Alpha King in full force—the man who ruled an entire world of wolves, who commanded absolute loyalty and fear in equal measure.
"I don’t have proof," I added quickly. "And they’re smart enough not to leave any. But Sylvia and Nathan... they’re done playing fair."
Damian was silent for a long moment. Then he spoke, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Anyone who dares to touch you is signing their own death warrant."
He turned to face me fully, his hand sliding up to cup the side of my face. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone, his gaze intense.
"Let me handle the Smiths," he said. "You don’t have to carry this alone anymore."
I looked up at him, my chest tightening. The way he was looking at me—like I was the only thing in the world that mattered—it made my heart ache in the best possible way.
"I know you’d destroy them for me," I said softly. "And I love you for it. But..."
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully.
"Your father was right.Royal can’t be dragged into a messy feud over me. You have responsibilities. Alliances.
And Sylvia and Nathan are counting on that—they know you can’t make a move against them without consequences."
Damian’s expression didn’t change, but I saw something flicker in his eyes. Frustration, maybe. Or reluctant agreement.
"This is my fight," I continued. "They came after me. And I’m going to be the one to take them down."
I leaned into his touch, my voice softening.
"But I could use your resources. Your intel network. Help me find the dirt on Sylvia and Nathan. There has to be something—financial records, communications, anything that proves what they’ve been doing."
Damian studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"You’re right," he said quietly. "I hate it. But you’re right."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine.
"I’d rather tear them apart with my bare hands," he murmured. "But I know you need to do this your way. And I respect that."
His hand slid down to my throat, his thumb resting lightly against my pulse.
"But your security is non-negotiable," he said, his voice dropping. "From now on, you report to me. Every hour. Every location. I want to know where you are at all times."
I felt my breath catch.
"How am I supposed to breathe with you hovering over me like that?" I asked, trying to sound lighthearted.
But my voice came out softer than I intended. Because the truth was, the way he was looking at me—the possessiveness, the need—it made my pulse race.
"This isn’t a negotiation, Luna Blackwood," Damian said, his lips brushing against my ear. "This is a directive."
His voice was low, rough, sending heat pooling in my stomach.
"Understood?" he whispered.
I swallowed hard, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat beneath my palms, steady and strong.
"Your possessiveness is terrifying," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you afraid I’ll run? Or are you afraid you can’t protect me?"
Damian’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
"Try me," he murmured, his hand sliding down to my waist, pulling me closer.
"See if I can’t eliminate every threat within a hundred-mile radius. See if I can’t make sure not a single hair on your head gets touched."
There was something in his eyes—something dark and intense—that made my skin prickle.
He wasn’t joking.
For a second, I felt a flicker of unease. Not fear, exactly. But awareness.
Damian’s control, his need to protect me—it wasn’t just strong. It was all-consuming.
And somewhere, buried deep beneath that calm, measured exterior, was something darker. Something possessive to the point of obsession.
I shivered, but I didn’t pull away.
Because as terrifying as that side of him was, I also knew one thing for certain.
He would never, ever hurt me.