Chapter 219
Aria's POV
Devon raised an eyebrow but withdrew his handgun and offered it to me, handle first. Something flashed in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or approval. Lucas's one good eye widened in terror as I took the weapon, its weight unfamiliar in my hand.
My arm trembled slightly as I aimed at Lucas. I felt Devon watching me, his attention absolute. Lucas's body tensed, anticipating the impact. My finger hovered over the trigger as I considered what justice really meant in this moment. Revenge wouldn't undo my injury. Pain wouldn't erase pain.
I deliberately shifted my aim and fired, the bullet grazing his shoulder and leaving only a shallow wound.
"Now we're even," I said, turning to Devon and returning his weapon. My heart raced, but my voice remained calm. "He doesn't owe me anything, and I want you to let him go."
Devon studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, an almost imperceptible softening around his eyes. "Remember this lesson well," he finally said to Lucas. "Not everyone will be so merciful. Your carelessness could have cost much more."
Two guards entered and untied Lucas, who stumbled to his feet, disbelief evident in his expression. Devon's hand found the small of my back again as we left, his touch firmer, more possessive than before.
Back in Devon's suite, I stood by the window, my fingers absently touching the bandage on my shoulder. "I want to leave here," I said without turning around. The walls of Eden suddenly felt suffocating. "I want to go back to my apartment."
"Brooklyn is too far and insufficiently secure," Devon replied, hanging up from what sounded like a tense phone call. His voice held that familiar tone of finality, the one that normally brooked no argument.
"Eden feels like a prison," I admitted, finally facing him. "I need my own space." I held his gaze, letting him see my determination.
Devon fell silent, his eyes moving over my face as if searching for something. His fingers tapped against his thigh—a rare sign of indecision I'd never witnessed before. Then, without warning, he closed the distance between us and lifted me carefully into his arms, mindful of my injured shoulder.
"I have somewhere better," he said, his voice low near my ear.
An hour later, we arrived at Devon's penthouse. Unlike Eden's ostentatious luxury, his personal space was designed with warmth and comfort. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a serene ocean view rather than Manhattan's chaos. The space felt lived-in, personal in a way Eden never could.
As I explored the space, I found myself relaxing despite my best efforts to maintain emotional distance. There were books on the shelves that showed signs of being read, not just displayed. The kitchen held actual cooking utensils, not just pristine showpieces. I reminded myself not to develop any misguided expectations about Devon Kane, yet something about being in his personal space made him seem more human.
That night, Devon emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel around his waist. Droplets of water still clung to his shoulders, trailing down his chest. He slid into bed beside me with a natural ease that suggested this wasn't merely about our arrangement.
"Only you help me sleep," he murmured, pulling me gently into his embrace. His confession sounded almost painful, reluctantly given. His breathing gradually slowed as he held me, the tension in his muscles easing.
In the middle of the night, I was awakened by Devon's phone ringing. He moved carefully away from me, his warmth disappearing as he walked to the balcony to take the call. Through the glass doors, I could see his silhouette, shoulders tight with tension.
"I told you I won't go back... No, this time is different... She needs me..." His voice carried a rare vulnerability I'd never heard before.
Though I feigned sleep when he returned, I watched through barely-open eyes as he stared at me for a long moment before quietly leaving the bedroom. The conflicted expression on his face stayed with me as I drifted back to sleep.
The next morning, I found Devon in the breakfast area, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, focused on his laptop. The vulnerability from the night before had vanished entirely.
"I need to go to Boston for some family business," he said, closing his computer. "I'll be gone for a few days."
He handed me a business card. "If you need anything, contact Marcus. He's on call twenty-four hours." His fingers lingered against mine for a moment longer than necessary.
Devon's phone rang again, and when he answered, his expression darkened considerably. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and his eyes turned cold in a way that made me shiver.
Before leaving, he did something that took me by surprise—he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. The tender gesture seemed entirely at odds with the cold, controlling businessman I had come to know. I found myself reaching for his hand without thinking, then stopping halfway.
The afternoon brought another surprise visitor. As I dozed on the balcony hammock that Devon had apparently custom-ordered for my recovery, Mandy Stevens approached with practiced grace.
"Aria, we meet again," she said, her perfect smile not reaching her eyes. "Devon's mother asked me to keep you company."
There was something possessive in the way Mandy spoke his name, something intimate that made my stomach tighten uncomfortably. She sat in the chair opposite me, her gaze assessing every detail of my appearance.
"Devon always has a special compassion for broken things," she said, her voice deceptively gentle. Her perfectly manicured hand gestured toward my injured shoulder. "But once they're fixed, his interest tends to fade." Her smile remained pristine, but her eyes had turned cold. "Don't take it personally, dear."
Her words lodged in my chest like ice. I felt my fingers gripping the armrest, knuckles whitening with the effort to maintain my composure. Whatever was developing between Devon and me—business arrangement or something more—I wouldn't let Mandy Stevens see how deeply her words had affected me.