Chapter 297: Two Can Play

Aria huffed looking back at her phone.

"There are literally two hundred empty chairs in this room, Lucas," Aria deadpanned, keeping her eyes glued to the TikTok comments. "Go find one that isn’t in my immediate breathing space."

Lucas let out a sigh.

"I saw an old friend sitting alone in the corner," Lucas offered, trying to pitch his voice into a soft, genuine register. "I just wanted to come over and say hello. Look, Aria... I know things have been messy between us. How I treated you in the past wasn’t right. I’ve done a lot of growing up recently, and I really want to turn over a new leaf."

Aria aggressively swiped to the next video on her feed.

"Keep the apology, Lucas. I don’t care, and I’m not buying whatever redemption arc you’re trying to sell me today," Aria shut him down flawlessly. "If you came over here to annoy me, you’re succeeding. How did you even get an invite to this?"

"Actually," Lucas puffed his chest out slightly, adjusting his designer turtleneck. "I came with my girlfriend."

Aria’s scrolling thumb paused. She slowly raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious about the unfortunate, miserable soul who had willingly claimed Lucas Sinclair in public after the Bella fiasco.

"Oh?" Aria asked, looking away from her phone. "Where is she?"

"Over there," Lucas pointed toward the front of the hall.

Aria followed his finger, but just as her eyes tracked across the room, the mahogany double doors at the main entrance swung open.

The ambient chatter in the auction hall died instantly.

Damien stepped into the room.

He was wearing a bespoke black tuxedo that fit the breadth of his shoulders perfectly. Flanked by four stone-faced bodyguards, he radiated a dark, suffocating aura of absolute power.

Aria’s breath hitched on its own accord. He looked so ridiculously hot that it kind of annoyed her.

The wealthy patrons instinctively parted like the Red Sea, practically bowing as he walked down the aisle. Damien’s golden eyes swept over the room with boredom, searching the crowd.

And then, his gaze locked onto the back corner.

He found her.

The eye contact between them was electric, a searing jolt that shot straight down Aria’s spine. But the moment Damien’s eyes shifted two inches to the left to see who was sitting next to her, his jaw locked so tight a muscle feathered visibly in his cheek.

His eyes turned to ice.

He was furious that she was sitting next to Lucas. Damien tore his gaze away, his posture rigidly tense, and continued his path, heading straight for the roped-off VIP section at the very front of the room.

Aria watched him take a seat in a plush, large armchair. From her angle in the back row, she could only see the back of his head and the broad slope of his shoulders.

A moment later, a young, beautiful heiress in a plunging silk gown glided over to the VIP section. Aria watched, her fingernails digging into her phone case, as the woman leaned down, placing a hand onto Damien’s bicep while she spoke to him.

Damien didn’t swat the woman’s hand away. He let her touch him. He even tilted his head to listen.

A fiery, acidic wave of jealousy exploded in Aria’s chest. ’He’s doing that on purpose,’ she fumed, her teeth grinding together. ’He knows I’m watching. He’s trying to make me jealous.’

And the worst part was, it was working flawlessly.

"See her?" Lucas asked.

Aria blinked, snapping her attention back to Lucas. He was standing up, waving at an older woman near the stage. The woman walked over, and Lucas leaned down, planting a firm, lingering peck on the woman’s lips.

Aria stared.

The woman was dripping in vintage Chanel and old-money diamonds. She was also one of the chief event organizers. And she was easily pushing sixty-five.

"I’ll catch up with you later, darling," the older woman smiled, patting Lucas’s cheek before hurrying off to coordinate the auctioneers.

Aria let out a loud, breathless snort. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

"Oh my god," Aria cackled, intentionally pitching her laugh loud enough to echo toward the front of the room. "You got yourself a sugar mommy, Lucas?! That is incredible."

Lucas’s face flushed a defensive crimson. "She is not a sugar mommy! She’s just... a bit older!"

"A bit older?" Aria laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Lucas, she looks like she babysat Moses. Are you her plus-one, or are you hoping she puts you in her will?"

Aria kept laughing, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to mock him while simultaneously making sure Damien could hear her having a fantastic time from across the room.

Lucas scowled, leaning closer and dropping his voice.

"You think you’re so funny," Lucas sneered. "But why are you sitting back here alone while my uncle is up in VIP? Trouble in paradise already?"

Aria’s smile vanished.

"I warned you about him, Aria," Lucas pushed, mistaking her silence for vulnerability. "Guys like my uncle, they don’t settle down with simple girls like you. He gets bored. You should have dated someone more in your league. Someone who actually understands you. I’m only saying this because I’m your friend, and I want you to be happy."

Aria turned her head, fixing him with a stare so cold it could have frozen vodka.

"Listen to me very carefully," Aria stated, her voice a venomous whisper. "We are not friends. We will never be friends. And my marriage is none of your business. Speak to me about this again, and I’ll have security throw you out, regardless of which granny you have your dick in."

She looked around. Several of the wealthy socialites seated in the rows ahead were glancing back at them, whispering behind their hands. Diana’s lobby tantrum combined with the fact that Aria and Damien were sitting fifty feet apart was throwing gasoline onto the divorce rumors.

In this world, public perception was currency. If people believed Damien was bored of her, her reputation would tank even more before her movie even premiered.

A sudden murmur rippled through the crowd near the entrance.

Vittoria Rossi had arrived.

Aria looked up. The Italian millionaire was breathtaking. She wore a sleek, tailored emerald-green suit, radiating effortless, old-world European glamour. The elite crowd immediately swarmed her, kissing her ass and singing her praises.

Aria’s stomach twisted. She watched Vittoria smoothly navigate the room, heading directly for the VIP section where Damien was seated.

Without even realizing she was doing it, Aria stood up. She took three steps down the aisle, her heart pounding, intending to march right up to the VIP section and claim her husband.

But as she saw Vittoria approach his chair, an intense, suffocating wave of insecurity hit Aria.

’If I go up there now, I’m going to look desperate,’ Aria panicked internally. ’I’m going to look like the jealous, discarded wife fighting for scraps.’