Chapter 4 Damien probably thought I was still throwing a tantrum. Whatever. I was swamped with work and had zero time to deal with his drama. The entertainment headlines kept me updated though. Photos showed him and Aria inseparable. When asked about the rumors with Aria, Damien neither confirmed nor denied anything. I swiped away the news, closed my phone, and went back to cataloguing all my personal assets. When that rusty iron whip came down on us, I could only cry in terror, but Damien used his small body to shield me completely, gritting his teeth through every brutal lash. The smell of blood filled the air as he barely clung to consciousness. When the traffickers got drunk, I finally found my chance to squeeze through a hole and call for help. Later, Damien was whisked away by the Ashford family who rushed to get him. I didn't even get to say goodbye. The promise he made before passing out-that he'd paint me for the rest of his life-became my only obsession for years afterward. But Damien had forgotten it all. Back at my temporary apartment, Aria was sitting on my couch like she owned the place. 'Luna, today I'm going to show you exactly who Damien really loves." The next second, the door burst open and a group of men in black stormed in, pinning me to the floor without warning. Then Damien charged in, pulling Aria into his arms, his voice shaking with barely contained panic: 'Aria, it's okay now. This is my fault-I was careless and let you get kidnapped." He held her like she was some priceless treasure he'd lost and found again. The head of security recognized me though: 'Mr. Ashford, this lady is..." Damien finally bothered to look at me. But his expression was like he was staring at his worst enemy. SLAP! My head snapped to the side, blood immediately filling my mouth. I didn't cry. Actually found it kind of funny. "I don't give a damn who she is." Damien's voice was cold enough to freeze hell over. "Anyone who touches a hair on Aria's head-I don't care if it's God himself-they're gonna pay." "Take good care of her. Make sure she remembers what happens when you mess with Aria." The security chief tried to say something but one murderous look from Damien shut him up. They dragged me into a pitch-black storage room where fists and boots rained down on me. Blood rose in my throat, but I felt no fear of death. This life was saved by Damien anyway. Time to give it back. After what felt like forever, the door opened. Aria nestled in Damien's arms: Damien, she's learned her lesson. Just send her away." I don't want to see her in America anymore." Damien didn't hesitate: 'Done." He personally escorted me to the private dock. As they shoved me onto the boat, my necklace chain snapped. A crescent-shaped pendant hit the deck. Damien had carved it for me himself-the only wedding gift he'd ever given me, and only because Harold reminded him. Damien frowned and picked it up: This thing looks familiar somehow." But Aria just coughed softly and tugged at his sleeve: 'Damien, I'm cold." His hesitation evaporated instantly. He casually tossed the pendant into the ocean. He personally sent me away, personally severed all our history. Damien was visiting his therapist for the fiftieth time. The face recognition disorder from his childhood kidnapping was finally hitting a wall in his artistic career. Luna had been unusually decisive this time-nearly two weeks without contacting him. He'd screwed up, being too busy taking care of Aria. But he'd already broken his childhood promise to Aria by marrying Luna. The least he could do was be there for the small stuff. This therapy session involved hypnosis to help him paint the girl from his deepest memories. Damien was confident he'd paint Aria Sterling. But when his therapist saw the finished painting, she gasped. "How is this her?"