34. Chapter Damian
W e’re on our way to Lorenzo’s, the tension radiating from her keeps growing as we approach the restaurant. Her demeanor changed as soon as she told me about this lunch. She’s quieter, fidgeting her fingers, and biting her nails. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this distraught, and my chest clenches as this primal sense of protection finds a way inside of me. Wanting nothing more than to hold her and shield her from what’s bothering her, I have no idea what I’m walking into, but I’m prepared. I’m not above fighting tooth and nail over her, including her mother. Anyone who comes after her is fair game in my world.
The driver stops in front of the restaurant, and I’m praying to the heavens that Enzo doesn’t show up at his restaurant today, because the last thing I want to do is deal with his annoying ass. Getting out of the car, I extend my hand, letting her grab it as she’s exiting.
Stopping in front of the restaurant’s door, I turn to her, grabbing her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay?”
She rolls her eyes. “For the tenth time, yes. I’m fine.”
Her eyes say otherwise, though. The way her gaze clouds, her eyes turning a darker, dull color is telling me something completely different. I don’t want to add more pressure than she’s under right now, but it’d be nice to have a grasp on what the fuck is happening. She’s afraid, that little I can tell. She probably believes that I won’t support her, that I’ll run away. If only she knew there’s nothing she could do that would make me walk away from her. I’m on her side, and always will be.
I let out a resigned sigh. “If I see you’re getting too uncomfortable, we’re leaving, okay?”
“So protective,” she jokes.
My shoulders relax a little at her witty comeback. At least she’s joking, I’ll take that. Bringing her in for a hug, I kiss the top of her head and inhale her sweet strawberry scent, whispering, “Oh, you have no idea.”
Walking in, she lets the host know the name of the reservation. The hostess nods and walks us to the table where a woman with black, long hair is sitting, giving us her back.
“Hi, Mom.” Her voice trembles slightly .
Even the tone of her voice is different. It’s more careful, almost afraid. She’s not the firecracker I know and have grown to love.
The woman looks up, and I’m met with the same set of eyes as Aria’s. Well, the same color, anyway. They don’t hold the same fire as Aria’s eyes do. They’re dull. She gets up from her chair, giving Aria a glance over. “What have I told you about your hair?”
What the fuck?
She winces like the words physically slapped her somehow. “I didn’t have time to straighten it, sorry.”
What in the actual fuck is going on here?
Aria’s mom puffs. “I swear to God, Aria. At this point, I’ll never be a grandma if you don’t start taking care of yourself. How are you going to attract any male prospects looking like that?”
My blood pressure spikes as I hear the words come out of her mouth. The woman is so self-centered that she hasn’t even noticed I’m standing right next to her daughter. And what the fuck is that comment about? Aria’s fucking stunning. Her hair is my favorite quality. It reminds me of fire and essence, and all the things that are good in life.
I lick the top of my teeth and fake cough to announce my presence. “Hi, Ms. Petrov. I’m Damian Romano. Aria’s boyfriend .” I extend my hand, a fake smile plastered all over my face. The type of smile I throw to slimy businessmen who try to pull one over on me and think I have no idea.
Aria looks at me, surprise lacing her face as she mouths ‘ What the hell are you doing? ’
I glare at her with an ‘ Act cool ’ look.
Aria’s mom studies me from top to bottom, her eyes glinting with curiosity. She takes my hand, shaking it. “Please, call me Eleanor.”
We walk around the table as I bring out a chair for Aria, letting her sit next to her mother.
“Wow, a gentleman. How lucky,” she comments condescendingly.
Sitting next to Aria, I grab her hand underneath the table and squeeze it in reassurance.
“How was the drive?” Aria asks.
“Exhausting.” She rolls her eyes. “So, Damian, what do you do?”
“Mom,” Aria warns.
She looks at Aria innocently. “What? Can't I be concerned? I’m your mother after all.”
My eyes want to roll hard listening to this woman speak. As a businessman myself, I’ve learned to read people over the years and uncover their intentions with one look. And her intentions don’t come from the right place, that much I can tell. I’ll be a gentleman though, because the last thing I want to do is make Aria more uncomfortable. I will fake a smile if that’s what will make her feel better.
“I own multiple businesses, hotels, and restaurants,” I wave my hand around, dismissively, “I actually co-own this restaurant with my cousin. But I mostly work in the art industry. I have a gallery.”
“A gallery?” she sneers. “Can’t imagine an art gallery bringing you that much income.”
Oh, this woman is insufferable.
I shrug. “It brings me enough. It’s how I became a billionaire after all.” I smile coldly.
She nods, her eyes gleaming with interest. “Wow, that’s surprising. Probably with your family’s help, huh?”
“Mom, stop,” Aria says.
“My father’s dead and my mother has always been a homemaker,” I deadpan.
Two can play at this game.
“Oh.” Her demeanor changes, clearing her throat, embarrassed. “Sorry to hear that.”
Before I can respond, the waiter comes to our table and takes our drink and food orders at the same time per my request, because the last thing I want is to delay this insufferable lunch any longer.
The food arrives quickly and while they’re talking about her hometown, and what random jobs she’s been doing for a living to survive, talking about her new—and unemployed—boyfriend, I mostly remain quiet, watching how their dynamic works. Eleanor just sneers, comments, and critiques about anything she can think of, or acts a martyr the whole time. Talking about how the world has wronged her, complaining most of the time while Aria puts on a brave face and doesn’t falter, trying her best to change the topic toward a more positive subject. I’m this close to giving this woman a piece of my mind, but Aria doesn’t seem uncomfortable, so I’ve been holding back.
“So, how did you two meet?”
Aria shifts in her seat. “At work.”
She frowns. “The Institute?”
Aria shakes her head. “I quit a while ago. I’m a curator for Damian’s gallery, actually.”
“So he’s your boss ?” Her tone is condescending, dripping with disgust. “How old are you?” she asks me.
The question makes my left eye twitch. I won’t lie… I haven't considered the age gap between us. Ten years may be a huge gap for a lot of people, but we’re both consenting adults.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Aria says to me, glaring at her mother.
“I consider her my partner more than anything. She has a really good eye and has been taking creative control over the gallery,” I manage to say in a cool tone. “As far as my age goes, I’m 35. Not sure how it matters in this conversation, though, considering your daughter and I are both consenting adults. ”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Age is very much important. I don’t want my daughter to be taken advantage of.”
“ Pft , that’s funny coming from you,” Aria says barely above a whisper, and I bite the inside of my cheek trying to hold my laugh back.
It seems that her mother didn’t hear her, because she continues by saying, “I’ve always told Aria art is a waste of time. Well, I guess there’s exceptions, you being one of them.” She looks at Aria. “And honey, you have a business degree. Put it to use.”
The realization comes at me like a strong wave. Now I understand why she was so uncomfortable this morning when I was in her studio, admiring her art. How she quickly dismissed it as a hobby and nothing else, when in my years of experience there are a few artists I can say are actually talented. She’s amazing, and I don’t say it because I’ve developed feelings for her. This woman has created so much insecurity in Aria, that she can’t see her worth. I wish she could see herself through my eyes. I admire her talents, how strong she is, and beautiful, and witty. This woman, the one that calls herself a mother, has no filter, and no regard for her own daughter. Aria had told me on the way to the restaurant she hadn’t seen her in about four years, and now is crystal clear why.
“I am putting it to use, in my own way. Just drop it, Mom, okay?” Aria says, her voice trembling slightly .
Eleanor sighs. “Fine. I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, batting her eyelashes.
Aria’s shoulders tense as she nods, letting her mom continue.
“Me and John are trying to buy a house, since you know, your father left me with nothing. But our credits aren’t that good, so we need a co-borrower. That’s actually why I’m here, to ask you if you’d be willing to help us out? Put the loan in your name too. Please?”
“Mom, I—”
I interrupt, “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now.”
Eleanor places a hand on her chest, gaping at me. “Excuse me?”
I grab the corners of the table, my knuckles going white with how hard I’m gripping. I’ve been trying to hold back, but I am at my wit's end. Fuck this. Fuck her.
“Let me get this straight,” I say through gritted teeth. “You haven’t seen your daughter in over four years, and the first thing you do when you see her is critique her hair. Her beautiful, wonderful hair, may I add? Then, throughout the whole lunch, you just ask your condescending questions and sneer comments as she sits there taking your shit .” I get up from my chair, placing both of my hands on the table and leaning forward. “And now you’re asking if she can do you a solid and put her credit on the line for you ? ”
The whole restaurant is looking at us and I couldn’t give zero fucks at this point.
She gasps. “I don’t know who you think you are—”
“ No . I don’t know who you think you are barging into Aria’s life, not caring about her passions, her likes, or the great job she has been doing at the gallery. So you can go ahead and fuck off ,” I sneer.
Aria’s looking back and forth, nervously. She gets up, placing a hand on my chest. “Damian, let’s just go.”
My blood is pumping all the way to my ears. I’m seeing red, and my heart wants to come out of my fucking chest. How dare this woman treat her like this! A woman that’s supposed to protect her, cheer for her, be there for her?
But again, a lot of undeserving people become parents.
Like my father. Like this woman before me.
I point a finger at her. “Listen to me and listen to me very carefully, if you contact Aria ever again, you will answer to me. Forget you ever had a daughter, because you don’t fucking deserve her.”
I look at Aria, and my heart just fucking breaks. Her eyes are so dark, dull, filled with a sadness I can’t take away. There’s not much I can do, but I will sure as hell protect her from this woman. I don’t need her to tell me what’s so clearly obvious. This has been going on for long enough, and it’s time someone steps in for her. Takes care of her for once.
“Let’s go, Darling. ”
She nods, picking up her coat and purse. As we’re walking out of the restaurant, Eleanor is hot on our heels, following us.
Once we’re outside, she yells, “Aria, you’re seriously going to allow this?”
Aria stops dead in her tracks and turns around, her eyebrows furrowing and lips parting slightly in disbelief. “You know what? Yes !” she yells back. “I am going to allow this. Because I am sick of you and the way you’ve made me feel my whole life,” She shakes her head, her voice breaking. “I refuse to take this anymore. I’m an adult now. I’m not a 12-year-old kid looking for her mother’s approval anymore. Leave me the hell alone.” she lets out a shaky exhale. "Do not contact me ever again,” she says, her voice slightly above a whisper.
Her words are masked with such deep hurt, a hurt that makes my chest rumble, my body growls at me to make it better. To take her pain away.
Opening the door of the car, I let Aria get in first. Looking over my shoulder, I glare at Eleanor. Her face’s red from embarrassment and anger.
Good. I hope she feels like shit.
Getting in the car and shutting the door, I quickly bring Aria in for a hug. As soon as her face rests on my chest, she lets out a pained sob. It’s a sob that holds so much emotion, and pain she’s held over the course of her life that has been dragging her down. And I just hold her. Hold her as she lets years of bottled-up frustration, sadness, and anger. All I can do is fucking hold her as my heart hurts for her. Screams for her. If I could take her pain away and make it my own, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
I furrow my brows. Bringing a hand to my face, I wipe away a… a fucking tear. The love I have for this woman is so powerful, that her pain has become my own. I gulp, my throat hurting from all the pent up emotions I’m holding back. “I’m sorry for putting you in this situation. But I don’t regret it one bit.”
She pushes away from me, and looks at me with red puffy eyes. “Wait, why are you crying?”
I sniff, letting out a humorless laugh. “If you hurt, I hurt, Tesoro . You are such a wonderful woman. You deserve the whole world, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see you before. I’m sorry I didn’t understand what you were going through. I had to stand up for you. That was the only way to make up for it.”
She grabs my cheek, shaking her head. “You have nothing to make up for. You being here for me is more than enough. Thank you for standing up for me. God knows, otherwise, I'd never have done it.”
My heart tugs at the sight of her with her red stuffy nose and puffy eyes. I want to make her feel better. God . It’s hard to swallow, because my throat feels like it’s closing up again. I close my eyes and breathe for a moment, trying to center myself. Everything happened so quickly and I was so upset and high off adrenaline, I hadn’t had a chance to take a step back and realize what the hell was happening. All I fucking know is that Aria was being hurt, and I couldn’t stand that.
The realization hits me like a strong wave, crashing against the walls of my heart and enveloping me in the cold realization. I would burn the world for her. Kill for her. If it meant she’d be safe and happy. If it meant I could get to see that beautiful smile, and those bright eyes that are like a breath of fresh air in my life.
Because she’s my safe space.
The light at the end of a tunnel.
My hope.
The love of my fucking life.