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The darkness had been my only companion for the past two months. After the car accident that left my optic nerves damaged, my world had shrunk to shadows and sounds. But my hearing had grown razor-sharp, a fact my boyfriend, Julian Croft, seemed to have conveniently forgotten. I sat completely still in the plush velvet chair of the VIP corridor at Lumina Jewelers. The sales associate had left to wrap the custom anniversary rings I had ordered. Through the slightly ajar door of the private lounge next to me, the clinking of champagne flutes and familiar laughter drifted into the quiet hallway. "Julian, honestly," a man’s voice chuckled. "Aria is blind now. You’re really leaving her alone in the penthouse?" "I had to." Julian’s voice drifted through the gap, laced with a heavy sigh of irritation. "What else could I do? She’s suffocating me." I froze. My hands, resting on the fabric of my dress, turned ice-cold. "Ever since she lost her sight, she’s become utterly pathetic," Julian continued, his tone dripping with the kind of arrogant disdain that made my stomach churn. "She clings to me like a lifeline. If I step out of the room for five minutes, she panics. It’s exhausting. I’m suffocating." Laughter erupted from the room. "Well, she’s head over heels for you, man," another voice chimed in. "And now that she’s blind, of course she has to hold onto you tighter. You’re her whole world." Julian scoffed. "I can't indulge her forever. I have a life. That’s exactly why I asked Silas to step in and play me for a few days." My breath hitched in my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Wait, Silas?" someone gasped. "Silas Vanguard? You got the billionaire king of New York to babysit your blind girlfriend?" "Silas and I are roughly the same height and build. Our voices are similar enough if he keeps it low," Julian said, sounding incredibly smug. "I had to practically beg him, of course. Silas doesn't do favors. He only agreed after I promised him a blank check condition." "What condition?" "He didn't specify. Just said he’d collect when the time is right," Julian said dismissively. "But come on, it’s Silas Vanguard. The man owns half the city. What could he possibly want from me? We run in the same circles. It’s just a favor between friends. The best part? Aria hasn't noticed a damn thing. I finally get a vacation from the misery." "But... what if she finds out?" a hesitant voice asked. Julian’s laugh was cruel and sharp. "With Silas covering for me? Impossible. She’s blind, and honestly, she’s too naive to figure it out. Even if she did, I’d just buy her some flowers and coax her back. She loves me too much to ever leave." Another round of raucous laughter echoed, but it was quickly cut off by a sharp, commanding female voice. "Enough! Stop talking about boring people." Chloe St. James. Julian’s childhood best friend, the only woman in his elite inner circle, and the reigning queen bee of their socialite group. "You guys promised today was about welcoming me back from Paris," Chloe pouted, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Don't ruin my mood with talk of your clingy girlfriend, Julian." "You heard the princess," Julian said, his tone instantly softening into the indulgent register he always reserved for her. "This boutique just got the new seasonal collection. Pick whatever you want, Chloe. It’s on me." "You’d better mean that, Croft," Chloe teased. The sound of playful banter filled the room. Someone else piped up, "Come on, Chloe, stop torturing the poor guy. You ran off to Europe by yourself, gave him a panic attack, and one phone call from you was all it took to make him crash his car. He even ditched his sick girlfriend to cater to you today. Give him a break." I sat perfectly rigid, my fingernails digging crescents into my palms. Two months ago, I had a high fever. Julian had stayed home to take care of me instead of attending Chloe’s lavish birthday yacht party. She had thrown a massive tantrum and flown to Paris unannounced. Julian had been a wreck, terrified something would happen to her. On the day of my accident, Julian was driving me to work. His phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, panicked, and lost control of the wheel. We slammed into the highway barricade. The impact threw me forward, causing the head trauma that left me in this dark abyss. So, the phone call that blinded me... was from Chloe. "Serves him right!" Chloe’s voice snapped me back to the present. "Who told him to choose a woman over his best friends? He dared to miss my birthday!" "Julian wasn't ignoring you on purpose, Chloe. Aria was sick," a friend tried to defend him. "Please," Chloe sneered. "Who knows if she was actually sick or just faking it for attention? I’ve known from day one that she despises me. She just hates that she can’t compete with a lifetime of history. Getting 'sick' right on my birthday? It was a pathetic manipulation tactic to keep him away from me. You men are just too stupid to see her schemes." Chloe’s voice grew triumphant. "We grew up together, Julian. I don't take disrespect lightly. I’ve tolerated Aria’s little jealous fits for your sake, but you owe me big time for this." "I know, I know," Julian murmured, completely submissive. "My time is all yours now, Chloe. Whatever you want." I sat in the hallway for a long time. The chill of the air conditioning seeped into my bones. Footsteps approached, and the scent of expensive floral perfume heralded the return of the sales associate. "Miss Winters? Your custom platinum bands are ready. Is there anything else I can assist you with?" I reached out, my fingers brushing against the velvet box. I closed my hand around it and slipped it into my designer handbag. "No," I said, my voice eerily calm. "Thank you." I stood up, gripping my white cane, and walked out of the store. I moved with the precision of someone who had practiced navigating the dark, though my soul felt like it was being ripped apart. When I returned to the penthouse I shared with Julian, the sweeping silence of the massive apartment greeted me. I kicked off my heels by the door. Suddenly, the heavy scent of dark cedar and vetiver washed over me. A pair of strong, masculine arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling my back flush against a broad, hard chest. "Baby," a deep, gravelly voice murmured against my neck, the hot breath sending a shiver down my spine. "Where did you go? I missed you." My body tensed for a fraction of a second before I forced my muscles to relax. "I went to the clinic for a check-up," I replied softly. The man’s breath caught. He spun me around gently by the shoulders, his large hands gripping me with a frantic, undeniable possessiveness. "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was thick with urgency. "I told you I’d take you. What if you tripped? What if you got hurt?" His hands roamed over my arms, my shoulders, my waist, desperately checking for injuries. I reached out and caught his wrists. His pulse was hammering. "I’m fine," I smiled, tracing the heavy, expensive watch on his wrist—a watch Julian didn't own. "I took a private car. I needed to try going out on my own. It’s been a month since I was discharged, and I haven't taken a single step outside without you." Hearing the soft, pleading tone in my voice, the man finally let out a long breath. "What did the doctor say?" "Recovery is slow," I lied, shaking my head. Large, calloused hands—hands that felt rougher and stronger than Julian’s—cupped my face. A pair of lips, shockingly soft and reverent, pressed against my eyelids. "Don't worry," he whispered, his voice vibrating with a dark, intense vow. "I’m right here. I’ll make everything better."

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