Page 113 of Twisted Devotion

Aria’s eyes widen and her frown deepens. She stays quiet for a full minute, as if processing the revelation. From the corner of my eye, I see her glance at her phone before her shoulders slump.

“I never fully understood why she so suddenly took an interest in me—why she was there just the right moment and then gone just as quickly. I figured she was involved in something shady. But… I was just desperately in need of a friend.”

“Aria-”

“I never fully trusted her,” she interrupts, her voice softer now. “But it still hurts.”

I take one hand off the wheel and place it over hers. “I hate seeing you like this.”

She closes her eyes for a moment, drawing a deep breath. “I’m sad, but I’m not surprised. I should have been more careful.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say, glancing at her.

She snorts softly, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “I just have a knack for trusting the wrong people. I met her at one of Marco’s parties. I should have known better.”

I allow myself a small smile. “You met me at that party too.”

Her head turns toward me, and I catch the small smile playing on her lips. “You’re different.”

I arch an eyebrow, a grin tugging at my mouth. “Am I?”

She leans over, careful to avoid my injured arm, and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “You’re special.”

As the car slows at a red light, I turn fully to face her. Our eyes meet in the hush of the moment, something unspoken crackling between us. I lean in, and the seconds our mouths connect, she parts her lips, welcoming me in. My tongue slides against hers, and she moans softly into my mouth.

Electricity surges through me—pure, unfiltered. The fire between us will never burn out.

A horn blares behind us. The light has turned green, but I don’t move. Instead, I deepen the kiss, claiming her. Another impatient horn snaps me out of it, and I pull away with a sharp exhale. The urge to get out and put a bullet in the driver's head—or at least break his damn arm—is strong.

Aria chuckles, brushing her thumb over my lower lip.

“Guess we’ll pick this up later,” I murmur.

She settles back in her seat, cheeks flushed with heat, her thighs pressing together. I don’t have to look to know how wet she is.

I grip the wheel, jaw tightening. I need to get through this damn meeting—fast. Them I’m taking her home and fucking her until she forgets her own name. Maybe tonight, we’ll use something from my closet.

I press down on the gas, the car gliding through the streets toward the place where Marco waits. My shoulder throbs with each turn, a sharp reminder that I’m still alive to feel it. I steal a glance at Aria, and suddenly, the pain feels like a gift. I have her—that’s all that matters.

When we arrive, Marco is already seated.

His head is bowed, his hair disheveled. The overhead lights flicker as we step inside, casting long shadows across the room. He looks like a criminal in an interrogation room—because, in many ways, he is.

He’s smaller than before. Not just physically, but in presence. The arrogance is gone. No blindingly bright suit, no suffocating cologne. Just a man stripped of everything, waiting for his fate.

He lifts his head when we enter, his eyes meeting mine. I can’t read his expression. I pull a chair for Aria, and we sit across from him. She shifts, straightens her back, and folds her hands neatly on the table.

From the corner of my eye, I watch her. The steady rise and fall of her chest. The way she holds herself—poised, composed, but I know better.

I take my time to reach out for the document I prepared before this meeting. It’s more than just paper; it’s the thing that seals a once uncertain fate. I open it slowly, scanning the contents one last time, and then I sign my name at the bottom.

The sound of the pen scratching against the paper is the only noise that breaks the heavy silence in the room.

When I finish, I slide the document across the table. It glides smoothly over the polished surface, stopping just before Marco.

His hands freeze momentarily, trembling just slightly, before he reaches out. He lifts the paper, eyes scanning the terms I’ve laid out for him. Aria and I watch in silence, both of us waiting for his reaction.

The seconds stretch on, thick with the weight of what’s to come. Then he exhales—a long, shuddering breath. Defeated.

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