Chapter 249 You handled it perfectly
Damian’s POV
Ethan’s gaze darted between us, something desperate and broken flickering across his face.
"Aria, please—just five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. We can talk somewhere private—"
"No."
"I left Clara. I filed for divorce. I’m trying to make this right—"
"There is no making this right!" Her voice cracked, the calm facade shattering. "You lied to me for two years, Ethan. You used me. You made me believe I was your mate when you’d already chosen someone else."
Tears were streaming down her face now, and the bond flooded with so much pain I could barely breathe.
"And now you want me to *talk* to you?" she continued. "To give you another chance? After everything you’ve done?"
"I made a mistake—"
"You made a choice!" Aria’s voice rose. "Every single day for two years, you chose to keep lying. You chose Clara over me. Over the bond. Over everything the Moon Goddess intended."
She wiped at her eyes roughly, and I had to physically restrain myself from going to her. From pulling her into my arms and killing Ethan where he stood.
"So no," Aria finished, her voice going quiet. "We’re not talking. We’re never talking again. And if you come near me one more time, I won’t stop Damian from tearing you apart. Understood?"
Ethan looked gutted. Like she’d reached into his chest and ripped out his heart.
Part of me—a very small, very human part—almost felt sorry for him.
The rest of me wanted to make him suffer for every tear on Aria’s face.
"You heard her," I said softly. "Leave. Now."
For a moment, I thought he might actually be stupid enough to argue.
Then his gaze dropped, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
"I’m sorry," he whispered. "Aria, I’m so sorry."
She didn’t respond. Just turned away, her arms wrapped around herself.
Ethan stood there for another few seconds—hoping, maybe, that she’d change her mind.
She didn’t.
Finally, he left. Disappeared into the crowd without another word.
The moment he was gone, Aria’s knees buckled.
I caught her before she could fall, pulling her against my chest and wrapping my arms around her.
"I’ve got you," I murmured into her hair. "You’re okay. I’ve got you."
She clung to me, her fingers digging into my jacket as she tried to steady her breathing. The bond pulsed between us—pain and relief and exhaustion all tangled together.
"I didn’t think he’d be here," she whispered against my chest. "I swear, Damian, I didn’t know—"
"I know." I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It’s okay. You handled it perfectly."
She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her gem-green eyes still bright with unshed tears.
"You’re being so calm about this."
Calm.
If only she knew.
When I’d walked in and seen Ethan with his hand on her, I’d had approximately thirty different thoughts about how to kill him. Slowly. Painfully. In ways that would make other Alphas think twice before ever touching what was mine.
It had taken every ounce of control I possessed not to shift right there in the middle of the bar and remind Ethan exactly what happened when you challenged an Alpha King.
But I couldn’t tell her that.
Couldn’t let her see how close I’d been to losing it completely.
"I’m not calm," I admitted quietly. "But I trust you. And I knew you needed to handle this yourself."
She searched my face for a long moment, like she was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth.
Then she nodded slowly and stepped back, wiping at her eyes.
"I need to get my phone from Emily. Say goodbye."
"Go ahead." I kept my voice gentle. "I’ll wait here."
She gave me a small, grateful smile before heading back toward where Emily was hovering near the bar entrance.
The moment she was out of earshot, I pulled out my phone and dialed.
Rick answered on the first ring. "Alpha?"
"Ethan Holt," I said quietly. "He’s here. At a bar near the Smith building. I want him and everyone he came with dealt with. Quietly."
There was a pause.
"How quietly?"
"Broken bones. Maybe a few nights in the hospital. Nothing permanent, but enough to send a message." My voice dropped to something cold and dangerous. "And make sure the message is very clear: if he comes near Aria again, there won’t be a next time."
"Understood."
I hung up just as Aria came back, her phone clutched in her hand.
"Ready?" I asked.
She nodded, and I placed my hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit.
We made it to her car before I spoke again.
"He touched you," I said quietly. "Before I got there. Where?"