A thousand thoughts tore through me. Damian knew my father—worse, he was one of them. I hadn’t stumbled into the job. I’d been placed. The realization gutted me.
We walked in silence. At my door, I gave Tristan a quick goodbye and went in alone.
Something was wrong. The air felt colder, heavier, as if the walls were holding their breath. Dread coiled low. I went to the kitchen, pulled a glass from the shelf, grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge.
“Hello, Daisy,” said a voice I knew too well.
The bottle slipped, shattered. Wine bled across the tiles like spilled blood. I turned slowly. Damian leaned in my bedroom doorway, arms crossed—casual posture, eyes burning. A dark smile played on his lips.
“Damian—what the hell are you doing here?” My body didn’t know whether to run or to fall into him.
“Did you miss me?”
I edged around the counter, keeping my eyes on him. “You can’t just come into my house.”
“As you see, I can.” He dangled a set of keys, then slid them into his pocket. “Spare key from your father. For emergencies.”
I would be having words with my father.
Damian pushed off the frame and came toward me—unhurried, deliberate. “You knew I’d find you sooner or later.” His tone was calm—too calm—the kind of calm that comes after the decision to destroy something. His eyes held me—fire and shadow, desire and danger.
“I wanted time to think.” My mouth was dry, pulse pounding.
“And what conclusion did you reach?” Another step. My chest tightened.
“I missed you, Damian. Every damn day. I thought of you; I ached for you. I love you. I love you so much that not one moment passed when I didn’t want to touch you, kiss you, feel you inside me. But I don’t want to forgive you. I can’t. We will not go on as if nothing has changed. And now—this with my father?” My voice broke. “Why did you lie to me? You’re a damn mafioso.”
“I didn’t lie. I left out a few things.” Another step—an arm’s length.
“A few things? You work for my father.” My hands curled into fists. “He calls youIl Lupo.The Wolf.”
“I workwithhim, notforhim,” he said evenly. “We’ve been friends for years.”
He closed the last of the distance, his dangerous presence filling the room.
“I understand how you feel. Your father wanted you safe. Beatrice was moving to Switzerland; I agreed to take you at my shop. What I couldn’t have known was how much you’d undo me.” His hand lifted, fingers brushing my bare shoulder, sliding my dress strap back into place. “How much I’d end up wanting you.”
“Damian,” I breathed—and my voice failed when he leaned closer.
“I can’t trust you anymore,” I whispered. “What else don’t I know? Who are you? I can’t be with you. You destroy me.”
“I know,” he said—and kissed me.
His mouth was demanding, relentless, tasting like sin and heaven. Doubt burned to ash. I knew I should resist; I couldn’t. I loved him—too much. His heat, his strength, his dominance. He was carved like a god and alive like danger.
His scent wrapped around me like fog, numbing everything else. My breath quickened as his hand moved—slow, tormenting—over my chest, up to my throat, where it lingered. He broke the kiss, eyes locked on mine.
Gently, but with unmistakable authority, his fingers curled around my neck.
Thoughts scattered, feral and panicked. Air thinned. And still, he held me—bound me—saved me and ruined me in the same breath. He was the wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding. I would have given up everything for him; I already was. I had never been closer to him than in that moment—and never further from myself. Terror bloomed with the wanting.
Tears gathered—hot, heavy. It felt like he was breaking me, destroying me, and still I wanted to stay. But something had to change. I would not share him. With anyone. He had hurt me—the lies, the betrayal. I’d found him with another woman in his office. If I had truly mattered, he never would have done it. He hadn’t even tried to win me back. He’d let me go.
Damian would never change. He would keep hurting me.
Hisgrip tightened, as if punishing me for the war inside him. Something else flickered there too—desperation, barely leashed. He closed his eyes, as if he had to wrestle his own violence down.
“The thought of you leaving me forever… of someone else touching you…” His voice dropped, darker. “I couldn’t take it. Not ever. I wouldn’t survive it. I’d burn the world down before I let someone else have you.”
