THE CHAOS HEIR

CHAPTER 1.

"Do you have a hearing problem, sweetheart? I said my bloody eggs are cold and your attitude is way worse."

Aria snapped back to attention, her eyes were heavy as she stared down at the half-eaten plate of scrambled regret. The man that was grinning at her from booth three wore a watch that probably cost more than her entire year's rent, and his tan was so orange that it looked imported from a discount sunbed. His girlfriend was chewing her gum noisily like it owed her money, her excessively long nails tapping against the tabletop as she scrolled through her phone without looking up.

"I'm very sorry sir," Aria said, forcing herself to smile even though her cheekbones were hurting with the effort. "We're short-staffed tonight... I'll quickly replace the order."

The man laughed, a low, sarcastic laugh with a hint of trouble underneath. "Short-staffed? What are you running, a soup kitchen? This place looks like a truck stop and smells like failure."

The girlfriend giggled, then spoke without looking up. "You should hire waitresses who don't look like they're five minutes away from passing out."

Aria's smile faded quickly.

She had been on her feet since six a.m, just like every other day... making sure she was ready for her three jobs. A nursing assistant by day, dog walker by mid-afternoon, and waitress by night. Her eyes were heavy, and her bones were aching but it was always people like this... people with credit cards that were probably not even theirs, and plastic smiles that never quite reached their hearts... who demanded your soul and then tipped you like a slave.

She took a deep breath, swallowed the rage that was already beginning to brew inside her, and then proceeded to reply as calmly as possible. "Would you like a fresh order, or would you prefer to keep complaining until your fake lashes fall off?"

The girlfriend finally looked up with wide eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused," Aria said sweetly, and casually brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "And as for the eggs, sir, I hear a cold dish is perfect for revenge. You two might be familiar."

The man stood there for a while fuming, then barked out. "Where's your manager? I want to speak to him now."

Aria didn't even react. "He's right behind you."

Like he had been expecting the summon all along, Gus strolled towards the customer... dragging his sixty years old, pot bellied body along with great effort. His kind eyes first caught Aria's own, then he took a very good look at the couple.

"She's insubordinate!" The man spat out rudely as soon as he set his eyes on Gus.

"She's very rude," the girlfriend added acidly. "Probably on drugs or something."

Aria's grinned. "Only caffeine actually, not that you would recognize a natural stimulant when you see one."

Gus raised a hand. "Alright. That's enough."

The couple smiled victoriously.

"She'll be cautioned," Gus said firmly. "But let me be clear... this isn't the Ritz. And I don't let people, whether rich or not, speak to my staff like they're chewing gum on the side of the road. You don't like the food? Don't pay. But don't think money lets you be cruel to working people."

The man looked like he had swallowed his tongue and his face went red instantly. "This is utterly outrageous."

"Yeah," Gus muttered, turning away. "So is your cologne."

The bell above the door jingled as the couple stormed out of the diner in annoyance. Aria turned to Gus with shame written all over her tired face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

He waved her off. "You didn't do anything wrong Aria, they were bullying you and I don't tolerate that."

She let out a sigh of relief. "I'm just tired, Gus."

He stepped closer, and then took a very good look at her like a concerned uncle. "You definitely look tired. Go home and get some rest Aria, I'll see you tomorrow."

Her head jerked up instantly. "No, I need this shift Gus, my rent's due in three days..."

"And I'm still paying you for tonight," he said firmly. "What I'm not doing is watching you collapse in front of the coffee machine ok?"

Her eyes watered a bit. "You really don't have to do that."

"I know. That's why it means something." He smiled gently. "Go get some sleep. You're tougher than they are, don't let 'em chip away at you."

Aria stood there for a second, trying hard to hold back the tears of gratitude. She nodded, grabbed her coat, and walked out into the night.

The night was very cold, and her breath formed mists in front of her as she walked the stretch of highway toward the crappy apartment she called home. She should have taken the bus, but she had been determined to save the little change on her, but now she was wishing she did... her head ached, and every stop felt like torture.

Her thoughts were raging across many things... rent and bills were constantly on the horizon, threatening to overwhelm her. The world always wanted more than you had, and if you couldn't give it on time, it finds a way to take it anyway.

Headlights flared behind her and she stepped aside instinctively, but the hum of the engine was strange and wrong... then it all happened once.

Tires screeched against asphalt, accompanied by smoke and the smell of burning rubber. The impact hit her like a storm. One second she was upright, and the next, the world was turned sideways. Her scream was cut off by her collision with the windshield and the sudden wet kiss of blood blooming across her forehead.

The sky above her seemed to be full of angry stars as she hit the ground hard... she couldn't move, and all the air were torn from her lungs.

She saw a shadow step out of the car and walk towards her, then...

She blacked out.

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CHAPTER 2.

The world returned slowly.

First it was the scent of fresh clean linen, then came the sensation... she felt the brush of soft sheets against her skin. Her limbs felt heavy, but her body... her body didn't hurt. Not like it should. She remembered the scream of tires, the blinding headlights, and her body flying through the air like a rag doll. And then... darkness.

Was she dead? No, she felt too annoyed for that. She forced her eyes open.

She took in the beautiful ceiling above her, and the expensive looking chandelier. She winced as her eyes struggled against the bright light, then she sat up and froze completely.

This was not her tiny, cramped apartment with its cracked walls and ugly painting, this was not her world of cheap pizza, expired milk, and thrift-store clothing she rotated like sacred relics... neither was it a hospital either.

This place was a palace.

She sat up straighter and her entire body protested. Her head was now beginning to hum, but she gritted her teeth through it. There was a sitting area near the window, and a fireplace with real flames. Standing there, bathed in the early morning sunlight were two men.

One wore a white coat, obviously a doctor. The other...

Her breath seized.

He stood there with the causal power of a demigod, an aura guaranteed to silence any room with his presence. He had hair as dark as midnight, a body any athlete would be jealous of and a mouth that looked like it never smiled. But what really got her were his eyes... Those eyes were fire that threatened to burn through her soul.

Grey eyes that shone like a wolf's eye, watching her with all the emotion of a storm locked behind a wall of glass.

She stared at him, too stunned to breathe.

God. He looked like a supermodel that belonged in a magazine cover, a forbidden fantasy. The kind of man you hated instantly because he seemed full of danger, privilege, and a charm that could render any female defense useless with one glance.

The doctor was the first to notice her stirring. "Miss... you're awake."

Her voice was rough and weak, but it still carried its usual fire. "Yeah. Seems like whatever concussion I had didn't kill me after all."

The dark-haired man was now looking at her fully, she wished he didn't... not with her feeling so vulnerable on his bed. She hated the way he watched her, with that calmness that spoke volumes.

"Good morning," he said smoothly.

She frowned and snapped at him. "Don't 'good morning' me, tuxedo Batman. What the hell is going on?"

The doctor moved forward. "You were in an accident, you suffered a minor concussion and some bruising but luckily nothing was broken. I've been overseeing your recovery."

"Luckily?" Aria spat in annoyance. "I was hit by a damn car."

"Yes," the strange man said, without any remorse in his tone. "My car."... Blurted out just like that.

Aria's blood ignited. "You?" Her voice was rising. "You ran me over in your overpriced death mobile and then kidnapped me to your luxury Batcave?"

"I brought you to a private medical suite in my estate, and gave you the best doctor around," he said, as though he was rendering her a huge favour and she was being unreasonably difficult.

She swung her legs off the bed, ignoring the sudden burst of pain in her ribs. "So that's what rich psychos do now? pay a generous doctor when they hit someone? Good to know."

"You needed care, and the hospital would have been tight. I made a logical decision."

"Oh, how noble," she snapped, standing on her feet and glaring at him. "You make it sound like you adopted a stray puppy. Let me guess... you felt guilty and decided to keep me here like some broken toy until I healed enough to leave?"

He didn't reply and that made her anger worse.

Aria managed two shaky steps forward, her trembling finger was pointed menacingly at him. "You don't get to act as my savior, you're the one that nearly killed me."

"I didn't see you," he replied calmly. "You were walking in the middle of a dark highway at night."

"Because I was going home! From work! Like a normal, broke person who doesn't have a chauffeur and a fleet of Ferraris at her beck and call!"

The doctor stepped between them, he was clearly uncomfortable with the exchange. "Miss, please. You're still weak..."

"Don't tell me what I am," she growled at him, and he backed off instantly. "I've been taking care of myself since I was sixteen, and I've survived worse things than getting hit by a bored rich kid."

The stranger's eyes widened as a strange expression passed across his face... respect, curiosity, or annoyance.

Aria was simply too angry to care. She took another step forward and then the room began to spin. Her anger deflated instantly, and was quickly replaced by a nauseous feeling. Her knees were weak and wobbling, and before she could react, the stranger was dashing forward, and catching her before she hit the floor.

As soon as her body collapsed into his arms, the last of her fire went out. He was warm, solid, and shockingly gentle for a man who looked like his hobby was snapping necks. She was too dazed to fight him off, too tired to let out another insult.

"It seems like you have a feisty little dragon on your hands, Damien" the doctor remarked behind her. "Give her time and space or she'll be breathing fire all over you."

The stranger sighed slowly, like he was holding himself back. "I've met fire before," he murmured. "This one however is something else."

"She'll wake up again soon, and when she does, she'll be coming for your head next." The doctor said as he headed towards the door.

"I'll be ready," he replied, as he gradually eased her back into the bed.

"Good. Let her sleep, and for God's sake, don't lie to her when she wakes up. You're not the first man who has tried to control a wildfire and gotten burned."

The door clicked shut behind him as he left.

Damien looked at the figure on the bed. She was unconscious now, breathing softly and steadily through slightly parted lips. He stood there for a while, then pulled the blanket to cover her up to her chest.

She looked small and fragile, but he had seen a glimpse of what was behind those eyes. She was no way fragile, she was a volcano that could consume in an instant, and she would be awake soon.

When she woke, she'd want answers. He just hadn't decided yet how much truth he was willing to give her.

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CHAPTER 3:

The room was empty when Aria woke up again. No voices murmuring in the corner, no doctor or arrogant rich stranger staring at her like a predator that couldn't decide if it wanted to devour or play with its prey.

There was nothing but peaceful silence, and the late afternoon sun peeping in from the window. She sat very slowly and carefully, preparing herself for dizziness or another possible blackout.

Apart from that pain in her ribs and a small headache, she felt ok. She came down from the bed, steadied herself, and then carefully scanned the room. It was way too quiet, and she found it disturbing. She had no idea where she was, neither did she know the stranger that had hit her, and kept her there. But one thing was certain, she was not going to sit around and find out if he was actually a saviour or not.

She approached the door cautiously, and then checked the lock... it was open. That revelation alone triggered all the warning systems in her body, and she took a moment to actually wonder. Either he was dangerously confident... or she was in way deeper trouble than she'd thought.

She tiptoed outside the room and began moving down the hallway, turning immediately at every slight sound. She didn't know exactly where she was going or what she was looking for... maybe an exit, or maybe answers... but one thing she certainly wasn't looking for, was him.

She had spotted him too late, but luckily for her, he was asleep. Sprawled on his couch with one hand behind his head, and the second one resting casually on his chest. She took a good look at him, then she realized something... he actually looked like a human being.

Aria held her breath, and then slowly pulled back. But something on the table near his feet caught her eye, a flash of silver. She paused, trying to hold back the curiosity that was overwhelming her, but her feet were already moving and dragging her forward... like a moth to flame.

The object sat innocently on the glass table, a delicate silver locket that looked old and slightly scratched... shaped like a heart.

Her heart almost stopped as she got a better look... it couldn't be, it couldn't be possible. She reached for the locket with trembling fingers, gently opened it and then gasped at what she saw.

Inside the locket was a tiny photograph that was almost completely faded, but she knew that face that was looking back at her too well. Her mother, young and radiant... smiling.

How could it be possible, her mother had worn this locket everyday of her life, and it had been buried with her when she died.

Aria was suddenly weak and dizzy again. She had only been a child when her mother died, and the locket had been left around her neck in the casket. She remembered crying, and begging them not to take her mother. Remembered how she screamed when they closed the casket, the final glint of the locket just before everything went dark.

How on earth was it here?

Her shock was now gone, and a brutal fury took over her body. She stormed to his side on the couch, and then slammed the locket down on the table.

"WAKE UP!"

Damien woke up shocked, but the shock didn't last long when he realized who was standing beside him. He didn't look confused at all, instead he had a small smile of amusement on his face, like he was watching a comedy show he had watched over a million times.

"Good afternoon, we meet again," he murmured in a voice that clearly wasn't awake yet. "You're surprisingly light-footed for someone who has already collapsed twice."

She didn't even let him finish before she attacked him. "This... This locket, where the hell did you get it?!"

He sat up slowly, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. He still did not say anything, rather he just smiled and watched her in amusement.

"Don't you dare give me that creepy silence, you bastard," she snapped as her uncontrolled rage finally took hold of her. "This was buried with my mother twelve years ago, I want you to tell me how it magically ends up on your coffee table in the middle of whatever fucking nightmare this is."

His look of amusement didn't change, but there was a look of interest as his eyes brightened.

"Who are you?" she shouted at him. "Some psycho who digs up graves for souvenirs? Or is this some twisted sort of game? Are you stalking me? Have I become a part of some deranged experiment where you gaslight girls with tragic pasts until they go mad?"

He watched her rant away without uttering a single word, he didn't even blink.

Aria took a step back, she was breathing very hard from the effort she spent screaming at him, but she wasn't done yet... not even close. "You want to play games? Fine. I'll be back, and I'll be coming back with the police. And when I do, you better have a damn good lawyer, because this..." she pointed her finger toward the locket "...this is sick."

She turned and marched towards the front door, driven by anger and pain, ignoring the physical pain that was coming from her exhausted body. Her hand reached for the doorknob, but as she reached to open it, his voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Aria."

She didn't move... how on earth did he know her name, she didn't remember telling him or the doctor.

"You're not a prisoner here miss Damas," he said very calmly. "But aren't you a little bit curious?"

She hesitated.

"Aren't you curious about how I know your name?"

The question was soft, it was almost intimate. She turned to face him, her anger still boiling inside her.

He stood up with the locket in his hand, dangling it as he spoke to her.

"Don't you want to know how I got this?

Aria stared at him, at the locket in his hand. She wanted to run, to scream and yell for the cops but instead...

She whispered, "What the hell do you know about my mother?"

Damien only smiled darkly... "You finally asked the right question."

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