Aria's POV
I stood there, my hand still resting against Damian's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm.
"My wrist," I said quietly. "He grabbed my wrist when I tried to leave."
That was it. That was the only place Ethan had touched me.
But Damian's expression darkened anyway.
His hand moved slowly, deliberately, tracing a path from my cheek downward. When his fingers reached my waist, they tightened—hard enough that I let out a small gasp.
It wasn't quite pain, but it wasn't gentle either.
"Here?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Or here?"
I looked up at him, confused by the sudden intensity in his eyes. His brows were furrowed, and beneath the surface of that controlled exterior, I could see genuine anger.
"Are you... mad at
