Chapter 298: I’m Not a Desperate, Jealous Wife

At the very last second, Aria pivoted so aggressively on her five-inch Louboutins that she nearly snapped her own ankle. She power-walked straight toward a passing waiter with a tray of champagne.

"Excuse me, where is the restroom?" Aria asked tightly.

"Down the hall to the right, Ma’am," the waiter pointed.

"Thanks," Aria muttered, practically sprinting out of the auction hall.

From his seat in the VIP section, Damien’s eyes never left her.

He watched the entire interaction. He watched her nearly twist her ankle trying to avoid coming near him. Even in a room full of the world’s most powerful people, his entire universe was restricted to the sway of her hips in that black glittery dress. She looked devastatingly beautiful. He missed her so much it felt like a physical ache in his ribs.

"Hello, Damien."

Vittoria Rossi stopped at the edge of the velvet rope, offering him a warm, elegant smile. "It has been a while."

Damien didn’t look at her. His golden eyes were trained on the doors Aria had just disappeared through.

Vittoria paused, following his gaze. She looked at the empty doorway, then back at Damien’s profile.

"Your wife is very beautiful," Vittoria commented softly. "I am happy for you, Damien. You seem to love her very much."

Damien finally turned his head.

He looked at Vittoria. There was no warmth. No lingering affection. His eyes were blank, cold voids of indifference. The look he gave her was completely devoid of the obsessive, consuming fire he reserved exclusively for Aria.

Vittoria’s breath hitched slightly. Seeing him up close brought back a flood of memories—painful ones and sweet ones. He was her first love, after all. She placed a hand over her chest, feeling a sudden, erratic flutter of her heart.

’After all these years, am I still not over him?’ Vittoria wondered, feeling slightly foolish.

"You cannot sit near me," Damien stated, his voice a flat, emotionless dismissal. "People will talk, and it will give them the wrong idea."

Vittoria swallowed the lump in her throat, her elegant smile turning slightly brittle. She understood completely.

"Of course," Vittoria nodded gracefully. "It was nice to see you, Damien."

She walked away, taking a seat at the very end of the row, far in front of him.

Damien ignored her departure, his gaze sweeping over the sea of velvet chairs. He easily spotted the blonde wig and the pastel-pink tweed suit sitting awkwardly in the middle rows. Zoe stuck out like a neon sign in a morgue.

’Smart idea, but terrible execution,’ Damien mused, leaning back in his chair.

He knew exactly what Aria was trying to do. She wanted to buy the Vale Entertainment shares through her proxy. But the shares were listed in the minor bidding section. If the other investors got bored, they might try to outbid her just for the sport of it.

Damien raised a hand, snapping his fingers.

His lead bodyguard instantly leaned down.

"Tell the organizers to move the fifty percent block of Vale Entertainment to the main event," Damien ordered quietly. "Tell them I consider it very disrespectful to my wife’s family that it was placed in the minor section."

"Yes, Sir."

Ten minutes later, the lead organizer stepped up to the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a slight adjustment to tonight’s schedule," the auctioneer announced into the microphone. "The fifty percent stake in Vale Entertainment has been officially moved to the main event."

A frantic, hushed whisper exploded across the auction hall.

Everyone in the room instantly did the math. The Demon King had shown interest in a dead company. If Damien Sinclair wanted those shares, nobody in their right mind was going to bid against him. They didn’t want to offend him, and none of them had the liquid capital to match his wealth anyway.

Meanwhile, inside the luxurious, marble-lined women’s restroom, Aria was hiding in a bathroom stall.

She was leaning against the door, her phone in her hand, when she heard two older socialites walk in, their heels clicking against the tile.

"Did you hear?" one woman gossiped loudly near the sinks. "Damien Sinclair just demanded the Vale shares be moved to the main event. Everyone is terrified to even lift a paddle now. He basically claimed it."

"He must be buying it as a gift for his wife," the other woman sighed enviously. "Say what you want about the divorce rumors, but that man is so obsessed with her."

Inside the stall, Aria’s heart swelled. A soft, touched smile bloomed on her face.

He was protecting her heist without even knowing about it.

’He is so annoying,’ Aria thought happily. ’But I am still not talking to him.’

She flushed the toilet, turning her attention to the matters at hand. She needed to change her pad.

She quickly did so, tossing the wrapper into the small bin.

Aria reached behind her back, grabbing the zipper of the tight, black glittery gown to pull it back up over her glutes. She shimmied her hips, took a deep breath, and yanked the zipper hard to get it over the curve of her ass.

RIIIIIIIP.

The sound was unmistakable.

The zipper track separated, tearing the fabric right down the center of her glutes, exposing her entire backside to the cool bathroom air.

"Oh my god!" Aria shrieked, her entire body jerking in panicked shock.

The sudden flinch caused her head to whip to the side.

The wireless AirPod she had tucked into her ear to communicate with Zoe dislodged. It popped out of her ear, bounced off her shoulder, and fell straight down.

Plop.

Aria froze.

She slowly looked down into the toilet bowl.

Resting at the very bottom of the porcelain bowl, submerged in the clean toilet water, was her AirPod.

Aria stared at the water. She reached behind her back, feeling the gaping tear exposing her ass to the world. She was trapped in a bathroom stall, her dress was destroyed, her AirPod was drowning, and she was cut off from Zoe.

Aria slowly sank her face into her hands, letting out a muffled groan of despair.