Aria didn’t touch the ring.

Not yet.

The silence between them thickened, humming with the weight of everything unsaid.

She looked him dead in the eye. “If I do this… there will be rules.”

Dominic’s lip twitched, almost a smirk. “Naturally.”

“One: no physical contact unless absolutely necessary. Public appearances only.”

“Define ‘absolutely necessary.’”

“When there’s a camera or a bullet involved.”

He gave a single nod. “Fair.”

“Two: no surveillance, no digging into my phone, my emails, or my life. This isn’t a prison.”

“I’m not interested in spying on you, Aria. That was never my problem.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what was your problem?”

He didn’t answer. That was answer enough.

She crossed her arms. “Three: I keep running my company, no interference. You unfreeze every account and sever all ‘trust entanglements.’ Immediately.”

“That’s going to take time.”

“You have until tomorrow.”

Dominic leaned back, fingers steepled. “Anything else?”

“Four…” She hesitated. “You don’t get to pretend this is real. Whatever this was—it’s dead. Don’t confuse business with closure.”

His jaw clenched, barely visible. But he nodded.

“Three months,” he said. “You stay by my side, we play the part. Then I’ll let you go. Completely.”

“You already did,” she shot back.

The words cut. She saw it—just for a flash—in his eyes.

Then it was gone.

“Fine,” she said. “But I want my own lawyer. My own press team. And if I get wind of you using this to control or humiliate me in public—”

“You won’t.”

She hated how calm he was. How sure.

He rose and held out the ring again.

She stared at it. The weight of it. The cost.

Then she took it.

Only because losing her company would cost more.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she muttered.

Dominic gave a faint smile.

“That’s what they all say. Right before the headlines.”