The tension in the car was suffocating. Grace sat rigidly, her hands clenched into fists on her lap, her mind swirling with shame and anger. The memory of her father's slap burned on her cheek, but what stung even more was the thought of Aries witnessing it. She couldn't bear the idea of his pity.
"It's none of your business," she snapped suddenly, her voice sharp and trembling. Without waiting for a response, she threw open the car door and stormed out, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement.
The door slammed shut behind her with a loud, jarring sound, echoing in the quiet night. Aries flinched slightly at the noise, his hand still resting on the steering wheel as he watched her retreating figure. She moved with such force and determination that she didn't notice the small tear at the bottom of her dress, the fabric catching and ripping as it got stuck in the car door.
Aries's brow furrowed as he opened his own door and stepped out, his movements hurried. "Grace—" he called, but she was already past him, her figure disappearing through the gates of her house.
He stood there for a moment, his gaze fixed on the spot where she had vanished. The anger in her steps, the way she had refused to look back—it all lingered in the air, heavy and unresolved.
As he turned back toward the car, something caught his eye. The torn piece of fabric dangled from the edge of the door, swaying gently in the breeze. Aries reached for it, his fingers brushing against the soft material as he pulled it free.
He froze. For a moment, he simply stared at it, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.The anger in his chest ebbed, replaced by an inexplicable sense of reverence. Slowly, carefully, he reached out, his fingers brushing against the delicate material as if touching it might break the spell.
It wasn't just a piece of cloth to him—it was hers. A fragment of her world, of her presence, of her essence. Aries held it gently, the material soft and fragile against his skin. For a moment, he simply stared, his breath hitching as the realization settled over him.
The torn fabric carried the storm she had left behind, but in his hands, it felt like a symbol of her strength, her fire, and her beauty.
Closing his eyes, Aries brought the piece of cloth to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and filled with an overwhelming sense of devotion, reverent, almost worshipful, as if Grace herself were a goddess and this small fragment of her dress a holy relic.
In that moment, Grace was no longer just a person—she was his goddess, and he her unwavering worshipper.
When Aries returned home, the house was dark and quiet. He moved through the halls with purpose, his steps steady despite the storm brewing within him.
In his room, he opened a drawer and pulled out a small, ornate box. The intricate design on its surface glinted faintly in the dim light, a testament to the care and significance it held. Aries lifted the lid and placed the torn piece of fabric inside, smoothing it gently before closing the box with a soft click.
He set the box down carefully, his movements deliberate, almost ritualistic. Then, his gaze shifted to the mirror in front of him.
The reflection staring back at him was one he barely recognized. His dark eyes burned with a mixture of rage and anguish, the memory of Robert's hand striking Grace replaying in his mind like a cruel, unrelenting loop.
His fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his body building until it became unbearable. With a sudden, explosive motion, he drove his fist into the mirror. The glass shattered instantly, shards scattering across the floor as blood dripped from his knuckles.
But Aries didn't flinch. He didn't even seem to feel the pain. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his gaze fixed on the fractured reflection before him. The rage in his eyes was unyielding, a fire that refused to be extinguished.
For him, Grace wasn't just someone to protect. She was his devotion, his purpose. And the thought of anyone—especially Robert—hurting her was enough to ignite a fury that consumed him entirely.