Chapter 57

Chapter 57
On the drive back to the penthouse, She took a black town car home, eyes fixed on the window, watching Manhattan blur past. Her thoughts twisted like smoke—Callum, the near-abduction, the weight of questions left unanswered. Manhattan seemed different—sharper, louder. She kept glancing at passing cars, wondering if someone was watching her again. She wanted comfort. She wanted honesty.

But when she stepped through the doors of the penthouse, the lights were dim, it was just as she had left it—quiet, sleek, a little too cold. Elena greeted her with a polite smile

"Callum's not home yet," she said.

Ariana glanced toward the massive windows that overlooked the skyline. “Elena?” Ariana called, her voice soft.

The housekeeper appeared from the hallway, drying her hands. “Good evening, Miss Ariana. Everything okay?”

“Yes. Would you mind preparing something light for dinner? Then you can head home for the night.”

Elena smiled and gave a small nod. “Of course. I’ll leave the food warm for when he gets in.”

Ariana nodded, then wandered into the living room and sank into the couch, hugging a cushion to her chest. Her mind wandered. Callum had said he had business. But what kind of business involved someone trying to drag her into a black SUV?

The clock ticked past ten when she heard the lock click.

She didn’t rush to greet him but stood in the hallway, heart thumping.

Callum stepped in, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder, shirt slightly unbuttoned, tie loosened. His expression was unreadable—jaw tight, eyes shadowed, the kind of quiet rage that didn’t boil over but simmered beneath his skin.

He looked exhausted, and something about the way his eyes met hers made her pause.

She stood immediately.

“You’re back,” she said, walking up to him.

He offered her a small nod and tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You look tense,” she murmured, brushing her fingers down his arm. “Come. Let me run you a bath.”

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but then sighed and let her take his hand.

She guided him to the master bathroom and turned on the faucet. The scent of sandalwood and eucalyptus began to fill the room. While the water ran, she helped him out of his jacket and vest.

Callum didn’t speak, just watched her with a strange softness as she moved around him.

When the tub was full, she leaned in, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “I’ll warm dinner.”

Callum looked at her, surprised. "You don’t have to—"

"Just have a bath, Callum." Without a word, he complied.

Callum bathed in silence. The tension in his shoulders slowly softened, but the war behind his eyes didn’t ease. By the time he joined her at the table, shirtless with jogger pants thrown on, Ariana had plated the food—roasted chicken with herb rice and grilled vegetables.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, pulling out a chair.

“I wanted to,” she replied, eyes meeting his. “You take care of everyone else. Let me take care of you.”

They sat across from each other in the dining area, candlelight flickering between them. The air was thick between them—too much unsaid.

Halfway through dinner, Ariana put down her fork.

“Callum…”

He glanced up.

“I need to ask you something.”

His posture shifted slightly. “Okay.”

“That man outside the hospital—the one who tried to grab me…” she began, voice quiet but firm. “Who was he? Why is someone targeting me?”

Callum sighed and set down his glass.

“I told you we were navigating enemies,” he said slowly.

“I know. But this isn’t about public image or deals. Someone tried to take me. That’s more than enemies—it’s war, isn’t it?”

He looked away. “You were never supposed to be involved this deeply.”

“I am involved,” she whispered. “You brought me into this. You kissed me, married me—real or fake, it’s real enough now. I deserve to know who’s after me.”

He looked at her then, raw and hesitant.

Ariana continued, “And Julian… had a gun.”

Callum’s jaw tightened.

“What kind of life are you living, Callum?” she whispered. “What are you keeping from me?”

He stood and walked to the window, arms crossed over his chest, muscles tense beneath the robe.

“There are things I’ve kept from you—not because I don’t trust you, but because knowing them changes everything. It doesn’t protect you. It implicates you.”

Ariana stood slowly. “So what? I just keep smiling for the cameras while someone tries to snatch me off the street?”

His shoulders dropped. “I’m handling it.”

“Then let me in,” she pleaded. “Let me understand. Because this—” she gestured between them “—this can’t work if I’m always in the dark.”

He turned, stepping closer until there was only a breath between them.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he murmured. “If I pull you into this, you don’t come back out. You stop being innocent. You stop being just… Ariana.”

Her heart twisted. “Maybe I’ve already stopped.”

A long pause hung between them.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “And I trust you. But I won’t be kept like a pet in a gilded cage. I need to understand what I’m fighting with you, or I need to walk away.”

Callum’s eyes searched hers, conflict burning in them. Then he nodded slowly.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll show you what I can. But tonight… can we just stay here? Just you and me.”

She nodded, tears unshed in her lashes.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tighter than he had in days.

As they stood wrapped in silence, her phone buzzed on the counter.

Ariana pulled away and checked the screen.

She smiled slightly. “It’s Charlie.”

He watched her with a quiet warmth as she answered the call and walked to the sofa.

“Hey, you. How are you feeling?” Ariana asked.

Charlie’s voice was groggy but cheerful. “Better. These doctors are nicer than the ones in Dallas. And apparently, I’ll be starting therapy soon.”

Callum listened from the dining area, quietly observing the way Ariana softened, the light in her voice when she spoke to her sister. He could see it now—how much of Ariana’s strength came from the bond they shared.

“Guess what?” Charlie was saying. “Your billionaire husband’s jet was really fancy. I think the pilot offered me champagne.”

Ariana laughed. “You’re underage, dork.”

“I said no,” Charlie teased. “But only because I was dizzy. Anyway… thank you, Ari. I know you’ve been doing so much. I’m really proud of you.”

Ariana’s throat tightened. “Don’t say that. You’ve been the strong one.”

Callum leaned against the wall, arms crossed, heart twisting in his chest as he watched her wipe a tear from her cheek.

When she ended the call and turned to him, her eyes met his again—and for the first time in a long while, there was no performance. No tension. Just two people, in over their heads, holding on to something fragile but real.

He walked to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m glad you have her,” he murmured.

“I’m glad I have you,” she whispered.

For now, that was enough.

But outside, in the darkness neither of them could see, the next move had already been set in motion.