The Maid's Deception-Chapter 44 - 43 : The Gallery

DAMIEN’S POV

Damien hadn’t slept after leaving Aria in his bed the night before. Instead, he’d spent hours in his study, making plans, pulling strings, arranging what would either be the most romantic gesture of his life or the biggest risk he’d ever taken.

By 6 AM, he had confirmations:

Reservation at Alinea, impossible to get, but his name opened doors Private viewing at the Morrison Gallery....they were featuring emerging artists And most importantly: confirmation that one "A. Ren" original was part of the collection

He’d bought that painting six months ago at an underground art auction, drawn to the raw emotion in the brushstrokes, the way pain and hope tangled together on canvas. He’d had no idea at the time that the mysterious artist A. Ren was the same woman who would later infiltrate his home.

But he knew now. And tonight, he was going to watch her face when she saw her own work displayed in a prestigious gallery, bought and cherished by someone who’d recognized its value before ever knowing who she was.

It was a risk. She might realize he knew more than he should. Might panic. Might run.

But it was also an opportunity. A chance to show her that he saw her....really saw her.....even when she thought she was invisible. That he valued her art, her talent, her soul, even when she was hiding behind lies.

At 7 AM, he returned to his bedroom.

Aria was still asleep, curled around his pillow, her face peaceful in a way it rarely was when she was awake. The first edition Woolf sat on the nightstand, untouched. She hadn’t woken yet to find it.

He watched her for a moment, committing the image to memory, then quietly left again before she could wake and find him watching.

Aria woke slowly, disoriented by the unfamiliar softness of the bed, the expensive sheets, the faint scent of Damien’s cologne surrounding her.

His bed. She was in his bed.

Memories of the night before came flooding back....breaking down in her room, Damien finding her, the bath, his gentle hands, the way he’d held her without asking for anything in return.

She sat up carefully, her body aching with emotional exhaustion. That’s when she saw it.

A book on the nightstand. Old, beautiful, clearly valuable. And a note in his bold handwriting.

She picked up the note with trembling hands and read.

Sarah,

I know you’re carrying something heavy. I don’t know what it is, and I won’t push you to tell me before you’re ready.

But I want you to know that whatever burden you’re carrying, you don’t have to carry it alone. If you ever need anything.....anything at all....just ask. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.

This book belonged to my mother. She loved Woolf’s work. I want you to have it, because I think she would have liked you very much.

Rest well. And know that you’re safe here. Always.

—D

Tears blurred her vision as she picked up the book. First edition. Virginia Woolf. To the Lighthouse—her absolute favorite.

How did he know? She’d never mentioned it. Had been so careful not to reveal too much about herself.

But somehow, he knew.

Just like he seemed to know everything about her that mattered, even when she was desperately trying to hide.

She held the book to her chest and let herself cry again...but this time not from grief. From overwhelming emotion. From the realization that this man....this complicated, intense, impossible man...was offering her something she’d never had before.

Someone who saw her. Who cared. Who wanted to help without demanding explanations.

If you ever need anything.....anything at all.....just ask.

She could ask. Could tell him about her mother. Could beg for his help with the Vitalis Radix.

But what if he said no? What if knowing the truth made him hate her for the deception? What if she lost him before she’d ever really had him?

The risk felt too great.

So instead, she showered in his bathroom, dressed in the clean clothes someone had left folded on a chair (Mrs. Chen, probably, understanding without being told), and made her way back to the staff wing.

Lucy ambushed her in the hallway. "Oh my god, are you okay? You look..actually, you look better. Less devastated than last night."

"I’m okay," Aria said softly. "Thank you for worrying."

"Of course I’m worried. You’re my friend." Lucy hesitated. "And also....Mr. Blackwood wants to see you. He sent word that you’re to come to his study at 10 AM."

Aria’s stomach flipped. "Did he say why?"

"No, but he seemed.....I don’t know. Excited? Which is weird for him. He’s usually so controlled." Lucy grinned. "Maybe he’s going to take you on a proper date. You know, like a normal person."

"I doubt that," Aria muttered, but her heart was racing.

At exactly 10 AM, she knocked on his study door.

"Come in."

She pushed it open. Damien stood by the window, dressed casually in dark slacks and a fitted button-down, looking devastatingly handsome in the morning light. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"Good morning," he said, turning to face her with a slight smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. Thank you." She held up the book. "And thank you for this. It’s.....it’s the most thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me."

"I meant what I said in the note." His eyes were intense, searching her face. "About anything you need. I hope you know that’s true."

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked gently. "Better than last night?"

"A little. Still tired. Still....." She paused. "Still dealing with things. But better."

"Good." He crossed to her, his hand coming up to cup her face. "Because I want to take you somewhere tonight. Somewhere special."

Her pulse quickened. "Where?"

"It’s a surprise. But I promise you’ll enjoy it." His thumb brushed across her cheekbone. "Will you come with me? Let me take you on a proper date?"

"A date?"

"Yes. Dinner. Art. Time together outside this estate." His smile turned slightly mischievous. "I want to show you off. Take you somewhere beautiful. Pretend for one evening that we’re just.....two people who are falling for each other. No roles. No complications. Just us."

Aria’s chest tightened. He was falling for her. He’d just admitted it, casually, like it was a simple fact.

"Okay," she whispered. "Yes."

"Excellent." He kissed her forehead. "I’ve already arranged for your afternoon off. Rest. Prepare. I’ll pick you up from your room at 6 PM. Wear something elegant.....I’m taking you somewhere that requires it."

"Damien, I don’t have anything....."

"Check your closet when you get back to your room," he interrupted with a knowing smile. "I took the liberty of having a few options sent over. If none of them suit, let me know and I’ll have more brought in."

"You bought me dresses?"

"I bought you options." His hand slid to the back of her neck. "I want tonight to be perfect. Will you let me spoil you? Just this once?"

How could she say no when he was looking at her like that? When he’d already given her so much...comfort, care, the most thoughtful gift she’d ever received?

"Okay," she agreed. "But Damien....you don’t have to buy me things. I’m not....this isn’t about...."

"I know." He kissed her softly. "I know this isn’t about money or gifts or what I can give you materially. But I want to do this anyway. Want to see you dressed up and beautiful, knowing I get to be the one taking you out. Humor me."

She nodded, overwhelmed by emotion she couldn’t quite name.

"Go," he said gently. "Rest. Prepare. And tonight....." His smile turned dark and promising. "Tonight, I’m going to show you exactly how much you mean to me."