The table was set like a scene from a glossy lifestyle magazine — elegant centerpieces, crystal glasses, and enough candlelight to set the mood for a royal proposal. Caroline beamed as she placed the final dish on the table, her excitement palpable.
"Ariana, sit next to Damien," she said, gesturing with enthusiasm. "You two have so much catching up to do."
Ariana hesitated. "Actually, I—"
"No arguments," her mother cut in, already turning to call her new husband from the study.
Ariana took the seat, feeling the heat of Damien's presence before he even sat beside her.
Damien slid in smoothly, smelling like expensive cologne and danger. "Look at us. One big happy family."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't start."
"Why not? You always made dinners interesting."
Mr. Caldwell entered with a glass of wine and sat at the head of the table, beaming at the two of them. "It's good to have the whole family under one roof. Damien, you'll be showing Ariana around your firm, right?"
Her fork paused mid-air.
"My what?" she asked.
Damien smirked. "Surprise. You're shadowing me for a few weeks."
"I didn't agree to that."
Her mother interjected quickly, "We thought it'd be a great way for you two to reconnect. Plus, it's a paid internship, honey."
Ariana's face flushed. Being forced to work with Damien? Daily?
Damien leaned closer. "Try not to fall in love with me at the office."
She turned sharply. "In your dreams."
Their argument was interrupted by laughter — Caroline and Mr. Caldwell oblivious to the low-key war brewing between their children.
The rest of the dinner was a blur of polite conversation, forced smiles, and unspoken tension thick enough to slice through.
But Ariana couldn't ignore one thing.
Every time her hand brushed Damien's under the table — accidentally, she told herself — he didn't pull away.
He lingered.
And that was the most dangerous part.