8. Aria
8
ARIA
M y eyelids flutter open to soft morning light filtering through the curtains. As I stretch out beneath the covers—my body a little sore and an unfamiliar ache in between my legs— I remember that I’m in Dion’s guest room.
With a yawn, I swing my legs over the bed and pad over to the window. Peeking through the blinds, I see a quaint garden bathed in early sunlight. Birds chirp in the distance, and a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of a nearby tree. Did I wake up in a fucking fairytale? Everything about this house is so charming, it makes me want to gag rainbows. I love it.
The events of last night trickle back into my mind.
After our heartfelt moment—and the sex— Dion and I stayed up late chatting in his kitchen.
When it was time to finally go to bed, he offered to give me a change of clothes: one of his oversized t-shirts which I’m still wearing now. I laughed when he first gave it to me, because it has the face of Post Malone smoking a cigarette printed on it.
“ I didn’t expect you to be a Posty fan,” I say, staring down at the tee.
He shrugs. “ I’m full of surprises, especially when it comes to the range in my taste of music.”
“ Is that so? Give me an example,” I taunt.
“ Well , it goes from classical Chopin to Papa Roach .”
My eyes widen. “ Papa Roach ?”
A chuckle escapes his lips, and I can’t help but smile back, cheeks heating. The sound of his laughter is infectious. He’s cute as hell.
“ Yes . Are you not a fan?” he asks, his eyes sparkling in amusement.
“ Our taste in music might be the only thing we have in common,” I joke, and at that moment, I am reminded of the effortless connection we seem to be forming.
Again , he lets out an unrestrained chuckle.
I can’t stop staring at him. Despite the warmth I feel from his cheerfulness, I can’t allow myself to fully embrace it. I ignore the fluttering in my chest and close myself off.
“ Well , thank you for the shirt. I should get to bed,” I say, awkwardly shifting on my feet.
He gives me a small bow. “ Goodnight , Aria .”
“ Goodnight , Dion .”
I’m glad he had the decency not to suggest sleeping in the same room or having sex again. Not sure I would’ve said no.
I step into the adjoining bathroom and catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. “ Oh , my God .” I look terrible: makeup smudged; skin blotchy. I can’t go out there like this.
Scrambling for anything to clean my face with, I’m happy to find a container of wipes in the bottom cabinet. There’s a whole basket of bathroom essentials and skincare. Thank God .
I wipe the makeup off my face, then cleanse it with some face wash.
Feeling like myself again, I turn around to get a good look at the bathroom.
It’s huge, with a massive walk-in shower and a big whirlpool tub to the left.
I should probably take a quick shower to wash off the remnants of last night. Maybe it’ll help distract me from the flashbacks I’ve been getting of Dion’s face between my legs since I woke up.
My body feels different. I can still remember the nervous excitement that hung in the air as we explored each other for the first time.
The moment was filled with uncertainty, on my part, but I was determined to see it through. I couldn’t ignore the undeniable need to let Dion inside me. I felt raw, exposed, vulnerable—yet exhilarated.
He didn’t ask about birth control, and I didn’t even care to ask him about protection.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. We blindly trusted each other.
I touch the skin at my neck, thinking back to how it felt to be choked by him.
Come all over my cock like my perfect little slut.
The memory of his filthy words and the spankings sends a pang of arousal down to the pit of my stomach. Am I always going to be this horny now that I’ve had sex?
Deciding it’s best to rinse off, I look for a towel, finding a collection of them in a side closet sitting on warmers.
I’m used to luxury, given I live in a mansion with way too many rooms and amenities, but being in Dion’s cozy and charming house is different.
I grab a large bath towel and strip out of his shirt. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale, smelling a mixture of my perfume and his scent. Gosh , I’m being such a creep.
Stepping under the hot water, I grab a bottle of body wash and squeeze some onto a brand-new loofa. Rubbing the soap on my skin, I’m once again assaulted by memories of Dion’s hands traveling all over my curves.
He could be right next door, and I’m thinking of him doing the dirtiest things to me. I should feel ashamed.
When I’m done soaping up my body, I grab the shower head and rinse.
The hot jet lingers a second too long on my breasts, causing my nipples to harden. Immediately , a tingle starts at my center. The more I let the water hit my nipples, the more the ache between my legs grows.
What if I just… ? No . He could hear me, and that would be mortifying. Dion is a stranger, and I wouldn’t want him to know that I’m touching myself in his house.
But I could make it quick …no. It’s not a good idea.
I huff. Ignoring the two arguing sides of my brain, I bring the shower head to my mound, right over my clit, and a jolt of pleasure shoots up my spine. I close my eyes.
Fuck it. It’ll only take a minute.
I’m so turned on; it won’t take long before I come.
My head springs back, a throaty moan escaping my lips. My eyes fling open. Oh my God . Was that loud? Fuck .
I stop moving for a few seconds. I didn’t lock any of the doors, so Dion could barge in here at any moment. Not that he should. That would be a major invasion of privacy.
Hearing nothing, I continue to assault my clit with the water, small moans passing my lips. I can’t help it.
Just as I thought, my climax quickly builds in my core. I’m close.
Upping the speed, I move my hips to meet the spray, my orgasm rising to the surface. “ Yes ,” I hiss under my breath. “ God , yes,” I moan. Then , waves of pleasure hit me hard and quick.
I brace myself with one hand on the shower wall, breathing heavily.
Now that I’ve gotten rid of the ache, I feel ready to face the day. Sort of .
When I step out of the bathroom, I notice a pair of jogging pants and a new t-shirt on the bed. Did Dion come in while I was showering?
Just then, a noise comes from the walk-in closet, so I step toward it, expecting to see Dion rummaging in there. But a short, middle-aged woman appears in the doorway.
“ Oh my God !” I yelp, grasping onto my chest, almost dropping the towel around me.
The woman also jumps, before smiling at me. “ I’m so sorry, Miss Kastellanos . I didn’t mean to scare you. Dion told me to bring these to you,” she says, pointing to the clothes on the bed.
I breathe out. “ No worries, uh…” I stop mid-sentence, realizing I don’t know the woman’s name.
“ It’s Helen , dear.” Of course. Dion’s housekeeper. He briefly mentioned her last night when he offered me a snack that I refused. I didn’t have much of an appetite once I remembered how I’m never going to see him again after this. Helen must be the one keeping everything tidy and fully stocked.
“ Thank you, Helen . Please , call me Aria .”
She nods and smiles. “ I’ll let you get changed. When you’re ready, join us downstairs for breakfast.”
When she shuts the door behind her, I sit on the edge of the bed and run a hand over the clothes.
I unfold the pants and put them on, pulling the drawstring tight. Then , I slip on the t-shirt. Another band tee. Again , I’m surprised that a man like Dion would have clothes this casual when he looked so good in a suit last night. Like suits were made especially for him.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hits me, so I let my nose lead me down to the kitchen.
Dion is at the counter, making himself a shot of espresso that he pounds back like a shooter.
My heart quickens. His hair is tousled, and a fine sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, highlighting the sharp angles of his face.
“ Rough night?” I call out, my voice getting caught in my throat.
He turns around, his smile beaming as he takes me in. I try to act nonchalant despite the butterflies fluttering in my stomach under his gaze.
“ Something like that. A certain someone kept me up all night,” he says, wiggling his brows.
I laugh. “ If it makes you feel any better, I feel like I got hit by a freight train.”
“ Not used to staying up late, huh, sleepyhead?” he asks, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “ I just got back from a run.”
He takes a large swig, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps down the water, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on our conversation. I’m clearly not well.
My gaze wanders to the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the beads of sweat trickling down his neck. I shake my head.
“ Not really, and I think I’m hungover,” I say, rubbing my temples. Suddenly , I feel a headache creeping in.
“ Here , drink this.” Dion grabs another bottle from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to me.
“ Thank you.”
After downing half of the contents, I look around the space awkwardly. “ I should get going.” I need to get out of here .
Dion’s gaze bores into me like he’s trying to figure me out. A flush spreads across my cheeks, and my heart beats faster. Does he feel this too ?
I thought I’d be able to sleep off this insane attraction I have for him, but after a couple hours of sleep, a shower, and even a self-induced orgasm, I still feel everything we did last night. I swallow hard, trying to seem normal. Deep down, I’m freaking out.
“ I’ll take you home. I have to go into the city, anyway. You’re on my way.”
“ How do you know where I live?” I ask, surprised.
Dion laughs. “ I know everything, astéri mou ,” he says, walking out of the kitchen. “ Grab something to eat before we leave. I’ll ask Helen to make you a coffee to go. Meet me out front in thirty minutes.”
In a daze, I stay in place. Is it possible to have a reaction this visceral to someone you just met?
I spot a plate of baked goods on the breakfast nook, so I grab a muffin and small pastry, taking bites of each as I head back upstairs to get my stuff.
I didn’t get the chance to explore the second floor yesterday, so when I pass the room right next to mine, I’m surprised to find Dion inside. He’s now shirtless, every muscle of his back glistening from the sweat.
He was only a wall away when I was in the shower, touching myself to the thought of him. Now , I’m truly mortified.
I hide by the slight opening of his bedroom door and watch him through the narrow gap as he drops his shorts, then briefs, exposing his round ass. My breath hitches in my chest. He is beautiful. Built like a Greek God , every muscle defined and sculpted to perfection. His strong back is broad and powerful. His tanned skin glows, sun-kissed, highlighting every contour and dip of his body. Covering his entire back is a striking Phoenix tattoo, its intricate details making it seem almost alive.
I gulp to moisten my throat.
He stops moving. Shit . I freeze for a few seconds, my heart skipping a beat.
Holding my breath, I quickly step away from the door as quietly as possible. Relief washes over me when I hear the shower start in his bathroom. That was close .
Letting out a breath of relief, I continue to the guest room, grab my things and head back downstairs to where Helen is now in the kitchen, preparing a travel mug of coffee.
“ Is that for me?”
She turns around and smiles. There’s something about her presence that feels reassuring. “ Yes , here. Have some while you wait for Dion .”
I thank her and take a sip, letting the caffeine flow through me like a small surge of energy.
We stay in a comfortable silence for a bit while Helen works, but something urges me to make the most of this opportunity.
“ Have you worked for Dion long?”
“ It’s been a while,” Helen nods, glancing over at me. “ I met him and Evander many years ago when they were teenage boys. Their uncle employed me. Now , I work for them.”
“ Are they cousins?”
She shakes her head and lets out a little chuckle. “ More like brothers.”
“ I didn’t realize that Dion and Evander were related,” I mumble with a frown.
“ Family isn’t always about blood. It’s about who’s willing to be there when you need it the most. True family is not always defined by biological ties.”
She makes a good point. I consider Angelica and Gianis my siblings, even though we have no blood relation.
“ Oh ,” I say simply, not wanting to pry further.
Helen puts down the dish she was washing and wipes her hand with the towel slung over her shoulder, probably sensing my curiosity. “ It’s not my story to tell, but Evander and Dion had very traumatic childhoods. They both lost their parents at a very young age and were taken in by Evander’s uncle. They grew up together.”
My heart squeezes as I’m reminded of the conversation Dion and I had last night.
I ponder her words, lost in thought.
“ He’s grown into such a good man. Evander , too. I know the business they carry might not be ethical, and what they went through affected how they show their feelings and their relationships with others,” Helen continues, sorrow flashing across her face, “but they are unwavering in their loyalty to each other.”
Curiosity gets the best of me.
“ Why is Dion single?” I cringe, regretting it instantly. It doesn’t matter why he’s single, Aria . It’s not like anything can happen between us, anyway.
“ I wonder the same thing all the time. He never brings women home, either.” Helen looks at me intently.
My heart jolts. “ Never ?”
She smirks. “ Never .”
Although none of this should matter, knowing that I’m the only woman he’s brought home makes me feel special.
Right as I’m about to ask her another question, Dion pops into view. “ Ready ?”
I nod quickly and stand up. “ Thanks , Helen . It was great meeting you.”
“ Likewise , dear. Hopefully , I’ll see you again soon,” she replies with a wink.
I smile back, but a twinge of sadness washes over me.
When I step outside, the sun is bright and warm on my face, almost blinding me. I look around but there’s no sign of Dion . He’s not in the car we used yesterday.
I walk around the side of the house and stumble upon a four-car garage. I hadn’t seen this last night.
“ Dion ?” I call out.
I enter the garage and I’m shocked by how big the space is. A fleet of cars and four motorcycles line the back wall.
Dion pops out of what seems to be a storage space, making me jump. “ Shit ! You startled me.”
He chuckles. “ My bad. I wasn’t trying to scare you. Let’s take the G - Wagon .” He unlocks the doors, and I climb in.
“ Do you mind taking me to Angelica’s ? I’ll ask my driver to pick me up from there.” I wouldn’t mind getting a ride home, but I’m sure I’ll get questions once the guards tell my parents that a man dropped me off.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Dion’s amused smirk. “ How old are you again? Please tell me you’re legal. I’m starting to question it.”
“ Don’t be a smartass,” I argue. “ I realize how this sounds, but you know how arranged engagements work in our world. If I’m seen coming home the morning after a night out with another man, it won’t bode well for me.”
“ You’re not the confrontational type, huh?” he says, his tone slightly mocking. “ From how you were at the club last night, I assumed you would take no shit from anyone, whereas you’re letting your family control your life.”
My blood curdles. “ More like I know how to pick my battles,” I snap, crossing my arms at my chest and looking out the window. Fuck him. I don’t know why what Dion just said made me so angry. Maybe because it’s true.
“ Someone is groggy this morning.”
“ And you’re way too fucking chipper,” I spit.
He laughs as we pull out of the gates.
“ Could you please stop fucking doing that?” I turn to glare at him.
“ Doing what?” he replies, confused.
“ Laugh . It’s irritating.”
Dion looks at me, dumbfounded. “ Could you please stop fucking doing that ?”
“ Doing what?”
“ Acting like a bitch.”
I gasp. “ Excuse me?” Did he just call me a bitch ?
“ You heard me.”
“ Let me out of the car.”
“ No .”
“ Let me out of the car, Dion ,” I repeat, reaching for the belt buckle.
Dion slams on the brakes, bringing the car to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street. His hand grips the steering wheel tightly, his jaw locked.
“ What the hell are you doing?” I yell, as the cars behind us swerve, annoyed horns blaring in protest.
“ I swear to everything that is almighty, Aria . If you dare get out of this car, chaos will ensue,” he seethes, putting his hand on top of mine to stop me from unbuckling my seatbelt. I stare at him. It’s the first time since we met that I’m almost… intimidated by him. Even last night when he told me not to run to Angelica at the club, he wasn’t this stern.
This behavior is doing the opposite of that it should do.
Instead of feeling threatened, I’m … turned on . Something is seriously wrong with me.
But my brattiness gets the best of me. “ Or what, Dion ? You’re going to chase me out in the street in the middle of your neighborhood?”
“ Do you want to bet, little liar? You don’t know what I’m capable of.” His hand is still on top of mine, preventing me from moving. “ If you want to fuck around and find out, go for it,” he adds, a devious smile plastered on his face. Then , he lets go.
Part of me wants to get out of the car and see if he’ll chase me, but the other doesn’t want to run down the middle of the street in broad daylight, wearing heels, in my walk-of-shame outfit.
Regardless , my core is pulsating with a need so intense it’s almost impossible to ignore.
I fold my hands over my thighs. “ Just take me home.” If he wants to judge me for being too careful with my parents, I’ll show him I’m not afraid to face them.
Satisfied with my response, Dion resumes driving.
We spend the rest of the journey in silence until we reach my area in Old Cebrene . As soon as we pass the gates to my family’s estate, Dion breaks the quiet.
“ We have to talk about last night.”
I exhale and nod, and suddenly our little spat seems so silly. I feel a mix of emotions about giving Dion my virginity. On one hand, I’m satisfied to have chosen him as my first. However , it’s also a bit terrifying to open yourself up in a new way, to be vulnerable, especially to someone you don’t know.
“ To preface, I had a good time,” Dion says, and I can hear the tentative smile in his voice.
The corners of my mouth lift, but I don’t look at him. “ Me too.”
“ I still think you should’ve told me before I stuck my dick inside you,” he teases.
I chuckle and any tension between us from before dissipates. “ You’re right. I’m sorry. I was so focused on deciding for myself that I almost forgot there was another person involved.”
“ How do you feel about it now?”
I turn to look at him. His expression is uncertain, even concerned.
“ I wanted it to be special and it was,” I reassure him. “ But now, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. I gave you something I can never give to anyone else again.”
“ I understand. It’s a big deal. I’m honored that you chose me.” His soft words send warmth through my chest.
I give him a small smile. “ I’m glad I made that decision.”
Truly , I am. Even though I might feel a tad guilty for having to lie to my future husband about my virginity, I’m happy I spent last night with Dion .
“ But it can’t happen again.” I reluctantly pull the door handle, feeling a twinge of hesitation as I prepare to get out of the car. “ And Dion ?”
“ Yes .” He holds my gaze, and a shiver runs up my spine.
“ I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”
His lips curve into a bittersweet smile. “ Friends ?”
I nod. “ Just friends.”
I get out and walk to my front door, trying my hardest not to steal a look at him over my shoulder.
My hand hovers over the doorknob, and I take a deep breath, trying to rid myself of the uneasiness that has settled in my chest. I hear the G -wagon back out of the driveway, so I tempt a final glance back at the car, now a fading silhouette.
Just like last night, the lingering sense of being watched returns. I look around the grounds, past the gate.
There’s no one there.
I shake my head before turning the doorknob and going inside.
When I step into the foyer, I’m met by my mother’s piercing gaze. Her arms are crossed, and she taps her foot impatiently.
“ Aria . Where were you? I was worried sick!” she almost shrieks.
I put my purse down on the marble floor and slip off my heels. “ Mama , I was out. I told you.”
“ It’s eight in the morning of the next day, Aria . You’re lucky your father’s been too busy to notice.” I wince, ignoring my disappointment. My baba ’s been a lot less present lately.
My mother catches my reaction and sighs. “ I know it’s been different around here, and we all miss your father, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t believe for a second you were out with your friends until now.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off. “ And you’d better be careful about being seen with another man when you’re already promised to someone else.”
My heart races, though I keep my face neutral, willing myself to stay calm. “ I wasn’t with another man.”
Mama gives me a pointed look but doesn’t push further and turns away. I take a deep breath and head upstairs. You’re already promised to someone else .
The mere thought of it makes me want to scream, but I force myself to remain composed.
After dressing, I make my way back downstairs to join my family for brunch. My brother and father are already there, seated in their usual spots in the breakfast nook. The familiar setting feels different today, some unspoken tension thick in the air.
Dimitri gives me a weary look and subtly points his head toward our father. I understand it: Baba isn’t in a great mood. I let out a breath.
I take my seat, trying to ignore the way my mother’s eyes linger on me.
Magdalena , our housekeeper, fills the table with a variety of foods that I start piling onto my plate.
We sit in silence, the only sound the clinking of cutlery and the occasional rustle of Baba ’s newspaper. My father finally breaks the quiet, his voice steady but with an edge I can’t quite place.
“ I spoke to your soon-to-be fiancé,” he says, looking directly at me.
I freeze, my fork halfway to my mouth. The room seems to shrink around me as I meet his gaze, heart pounding in my chest.
I swallow down my food. “ What did he say?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and even.
He takes a sip of his coffee. “ We’re making arrangements for you to meet soon.”
My throat constricts. I pick up my glass of orange juice and take a large gulp.
My father sets his newspaper down, folding it neatly before placing it beside his plate. “ I’m concerned.”
I force myself to maintain eye contact. To my side, Dimitri shifts in his seat, sensing impending chaos, and picks up his phone as a distraction.
The urge to get up and run out of the kitchen—out of the house, far away from here—is strong.
“ Concerned about what?”
“ About your commitment , Aria ,” Baba replies, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. Does he suspect that I was with another man, too ? Shit . I hope my mother didn’t say anything.
I feel her stare on me, her earlier suspicions hanging in the air.
“ I’m committed,” I reply with as much conviction as I can muster.
My father leans back in his chair, studying me with a critical eye. “ I hope so.” He picks up his coffee again, taking another measured sip before setting it down. “ This marriage is important, Aria . We’ve worked hard to build what we have, and this alliance will secure our place for generations.” What the hell does he mean by we ? Last time I checked, I was not involved in this arrangement.
A surge of frustration and defiance rises within me. “ But what about what I want? Don’t I get a say in my own life?”
His eyes flash with irritation. “ You need to understand the bigger picture. We have responsibilities and traditions.”
I lean forward. “ But it’s my life. I should get to choose who I spend it with.”
He sets his cup down with a loud clatter, his jaw tightening. “ You think I don’t understand that? You think I haven’t made sacrifices for this family? We all have to make choices we don’t like. That’s part of growing up.” I look away, blinking back tears as he continues. “ Happiness isn’t always about getting what you want. Sometimes it’s about doing what’s right .”
I exhale. “ Fine ,” I relent. I love my father, and I want to make him proud, despite the tight leash around my neck.
Silence falls over us again, heavier than before. I look down at my plate, my appetite gone.
Dimitri clears his throat, trying to lighten the mood. “ So , Riri , any plans for today?”
I glance at him, grateful for the distraction. “ I thought I’d spend some time in the studio,” I say, forcing a smile. “ I have a few projects I want to work on.”
“ That sounds good,” my mother says, her tone a bit warmer than before. “ Just make sure you’re back for dinner.”
“ I will,” I promise, pushing my food around my plate. My father picks up his newspaper again, his fingers smoothing the pages as if nothing happened. Dimitri tries to engage our mother in small talk, but the tension remains.
As soon as I can, I excuse myself from the table and retreat to my studio, seeking solace in my work. The familiar smells of plants and flowers are comforting, and I lose myself in the creative process, trying to forget the storm brewing outside these walls.