Chapter 3 Dinner with the Devil

The car was waiting when I stepped out of my building at precisely 6:55pm.

A sleek black sedan, polished to perfection, with a driver standing beside it like a soldier on duty. He bowed slightly when he saw me.

"Miss Aria?"

I nodded.

"Mr. Damien sent me to pick you up," he said, opening the back door with a practiced gesture.

Of course, he did.

I stepped inside, the leather seats cool against my skin. As the car pulled away, I leaned my head back, the city rushing past my window.

My mind wasn't on the scenery. It was on him.

The man I was about to meet again.

---

She was early.

I spotted her the moment she stepped through the restaurant doors, lights spilling over her like a spotlight.

Aria.

She looked different in the night-softer, yet no less striking. Her black dress hugged her figure, elegant but understated, and her hair framed her face in loose waves. The room seemed to shift when she walked in, people glancing at her without even realizing why.

And me? I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Damien," she said with a faint smile when the host guided her to my table.

"Aria," I replied, standing to greet her. "You look-" I stopped, my gaze catching on hers. There was something magnetic about the way she looked at me, like she was hiding a secret I'd never figure out. "-breathtaking."

Her smile didn't falter, but her eyes gave nothing away. "Flattery this early? Are you trying to distract me?"

"Is it working?" I asked, smirking.

She tilted her head slightly. "Maybe."

The waiter arrived, interrupting the current between us. We ordered-steak for me, salmon for her-and when the waiter left, I leaned back, studying her.

"So," I said. "Tell me about yourself, Aria. I want to know who the woman who beat me yesterday really is."

She raised a brow. "Is this an interrogation?"

"Maybe," I admitted. "But I'm curious. You don't strike me as someone who just... stumbles into shooting ranges."

Her lips curved slightly. "Maybe I enjoy precision."

I chuckled. "I don't doubt that."

She was calm, almost too calm, as though every movement, every smile, was calculated. It only intrigued me more.

---

He was watching me like I was a puzzle he needed to solve.

Good.

I wanted him to look. I wanted him to search for answers he'd never find.

I took a sip of my wine, letting the cool liquid slide over my tongue, and met his gaze. "And you? Do you make a habit of chasing down strangers you lose to?"

He smiled. "No. Just the interesting ones."

I pretended to be amused, tilting my head as if I were flattered. Inside, I was analyzing him-the way his jaw tightened when he laughed, the slight crease between his brows when he leaned forward.

Every detail. Every weakness.

When the food arrived, Damien cut into his steak with deliberate slowness. "You're not like other women I meet," he said suddenly.

I arched a brow. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"It's supposed to be the truth," he replied smoothly.

I laughed softly, though the sound was hollow in my own ears. "You don't even know me."

"Not yet," he said. His tone was almost possessive, like it wasn't a question but a promise.

A flicker of something dark moved through me, but I buried it under my mask. "Careful, Damien," I said lightly. "You sound like a man who gets what he wants."

"I am," he said. "Usually."

Usually.

But something told me Aria would not be usual in any sense.

She wasn't like the women who flocked to me, chasing my name or my money. There was a sharpness in her, a cool detachment that only made me want to dig deeper.

I wanted to know what she was hiding.

---

When dinner was nearly over, I excused myself to the restroom. Alone, I stared into the mirror, dabbing my lipstick with a napkin, and let the mask slip for just a second.

"This is going to be easy," I whispered to my reflection, though my smile said otherwise.

Not easy. Not yet.

But he was hooked. I could see it in his eyes.

She returned to the table, her expression serene as always.

"Thank you for dinner," she said as I stood to walk her out.

"Don't thank me yet," I replied. "This isn't the last time we'll have to eat together."

She gave me a curious look, half amused, half skeptical. "You're that sure of yourself?"

I leaned closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume. "When I want something, I don't stop until I get it."

Her lips parted slightly, and for a second, I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes-a shadow of something unspoken.

But then she smiled, soft and unreadable. "We'll see, Damien."

---

As I watched her leave, I knew one thing for certain.

Aria wasn't just a passing interest.

She was something I needed to figure out.

The moment I stepped into the car, I let out a slow breath, my fingers curling into my lap.

"Tomorrow," I whispered under my breath, a smirk tugging at my lips.

The game had only just begun.

*Every game begins with a single move. And Aria was about to make hers.*