Damon's POVThe moment Liana crossed the threshold of my office, something inside my chest seized—hard, violent, like the past reached out and wrapped a hand around my throat. I didn't even remember moving, but suddenly I was in the doorway, blocking half the room, instinct driving my body faster than thought ever could.
Aria stood against the far wall, eyes wide, hands trembling where she tried to hide them behind her. She looked small. Cornered. Frozen the way a deer freezes when it realizes the predator isn't in the woods—it's already breathing the same air.
And Liana…
Liana walked inside like she owned the space. Like she remembered every inch of it. Like she had never vanished, never drowned in a river, never disappeared without a trace and ripped my world apart.
She moved toward Aria with slow, deliberate steps, and something ugly kicked to life inside me—a warning, a surge of protectiveness so sharp I felt it in my teeth.
I stepped forward. Hard. "Liana."
She stopped, head tilting slightly. "Yes?"
Her voice was smooth. Calm. Too calm. As if she was trying to soothe a wild animal. Or provoke one. I couldn't tell.
Aria's breath hitched. The sound cut straight through me.
Liana turned her head just enough to glance over her shoulder at me, and the smile on her lips tightened. "You're acting strange, Damon."
"You shouldn't be here."
"Shouldn't be?" She laughed softly, and the sound twisted something in my gut. "I lived here before she did."
I inhaled slowly, trying to steady the tremor in my hands. My mind kept replaying the image of her from the security feed—alive, walking, breathing—and yet every instinct screamed that something wasn't right. Her eyes were wrong. Harder. Her posture tighter. Her smile sharp enough to cut.
Or maybe it was me who had changed.
Aria pressed further into the wall, trying to disappear inside it. I moved another step toward her without thinking, positioning myself between the two women, body angled toward Liana.
She noticed.
And her smile finally cracked, falling into something darker.
"Wow," she whispered. "You didn't even think."
"Liana," I warned, "don't."
"Don't what? Point out the obvious?"
She took a slow step toward me instead of toward Aria now, eyes darting between us like she was collecting data.
"You were never protective like that with me," she said softly. "You were intense, sure. Obsessive. Thorough. But this…" Her gaze flicked to Aria. "This is different."
Aria's breathing grew uneven. I could hear it from across the room. Too fast. Too shallow. Too scared. And the moment I registered the fear in her eyes, something in me snapped.
I moved in front of her completely now, blocking Liana's line of sight. "Stop talking."
"Why?" she asked. "Because she's listening?"
Her voice dropped lower.
"Because she looks afraid?"
I clenched my jaw. Hard. "You're upsetting her."
"Oh," she murmured. "Am I?"
It wasn't a question.
It was a threat covered in silk.
Aria whispered my name then—barely audible, barely a breath—but it still hit me with the force of a fist to the ribs. She sounded like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to speak. Like she wasn't sure she belonged in her own skin anymore.
I turned my head slightly. "Stay behind me."
She nodded once, tiny, shaking.
Liana watched the exchange with a fascination that chilled me.
"Well," she said, "that's… new."
"What do you want, Liana."
Her expression softened with something like sympathy, but I knew her too well. The softness was a lie. "I came home," she said. "Your people always said if I ever came back, I'd be welcome."
"You disappeared for years."
"I didn't disappear." She tapped her temple lightly. "You weren't looking in the right place."
The anger hit me so fast I had to breathe through it. I had spent years searching. Millions of dollars. Teams of investigators. Dead ends. Cold trails. Nights staring at her last known location pretending I could reconstruct the moment she fell.
And now she was standing here telling me I didn't look hard enough?
But none of that mattered right now.
Not with Aria shaking behind me.
Not with danger written in the air like a scent only I could smell.
Liana stepped closer. Too close. "Move," she said softly. "I want to speak to her."
"No," I said immediately.
The refusal came out low and absolute. A weight. A barrier. A decision.
Her eyes flickered. "You don't get to tell me no."
"I just did."
Silence filled the space like a rising tide.
Her gaze drifted to Aria again. "She looks terrified."
"You're terrifying her."
"Why?"
Her smile widened.
"Because I'm alive?"
I didn't answer.
Because that wasn't the reason.
Not even close.
Liana took another step forward.
I matched it instantly. "Don't go near her."
Something finally cracked in her expression—an edge of disbelief, almost outrage. "I come back from the dead, and you're guarding another woman like she's your—"
"Enough," I snapped.
The word echoed.
Aria flinched behind me.
Liana went still.
I was losing control.
I knew it.
She knew it.
And then Liana looked at Aria again with a softness that didn't match the tension in her shoulders.
"I'm not here to hurt you," she said gently. "I just want to understand."
A pause.
"Why him. Why my face. Why now."
Aria shook her head, voice tiny. "I didn't… I didn't do anything. I don't know anything about you."
Liana's eyes narrowed. "But he looks at you."
I felt Aria stiffen behind me. I stepped even closer to block the line of sight.
"That's enough," I said.
Liana tilted her head. "Oh Damon. You don't even hear yourself. You're standing there protecting her like she's yours."
My breath faltered.
Aria's did too.
Liana took a slow breath, eyes shining with something sharp.
"I think," she whispered,
"I'd like to find out why."
I shifted again, ready to pull Aria out of the room if I had to, but before I could speak—
A sharp knock hit the outer office door.
All three of us froze.
Another knock. Harder. urgent.
Daniel's voice filtered through.
"Sir—security found something downstairs. You need to see this. It's about her."
Liana's smile stretched wider.
Aria's grip on the back of my shirt tightened.
And every instinct in my body finally screamed the truth.
Something is very, very wrong.