“But I’m the one who has to control himself,” he said, voice tight, as if the words cut him.
“But what if I don’t want you to?”
I knew I was playing with fire—one that could burn me alive—and I still didn’t stop.
He stared at me, as if trying to process what I’d just said.
“What?” His voice was soft, yet edged like a threat.
“What if I don’t want you to control yourself?” I repeated, meeting his gaze with quiet defiance.
Time froze. His response was wordless—just a heavy breath, as though I’d awakened a beast he could barely contain.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” His eyes darkened. “I’m not built for sweet little romances. Power is the core of my life, not just business.”
His words unsettled me. I didn’t fully understand, but I felt the warning in them. Flames, daring me closer.
“I sleep with women, but I don’t do relationships. And when I want someone, that person is mine. Completely.”
A shiver ripped through me. Any sane woman would have run screaming—though on a plane, that was impossible. Instead, I wanted more. I wanted to know everything about him—what shaped him, why he was this way, what it would feel like to belong only to him.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I don’t want to drag you into something that will destroy you. You want something real, something deep. I’ll never be that man. I can’t give you what you need.”
“You don’t even know what I need.”
“I might know more than you think.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “If I pull you into my darkness, you’ll lose and break, and I’ll be a dead man.”
The words chilled me. Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. He rubbed a hand over his face, as though trying to erase the torment—but it stayed in his eyes.
“We still have a few hours ahead of us,” I said finally. “And if we want to keep this from turning unbearable, I’d suggest we talk about the artifacts in your shop. I know you inherited them from your parents, but have you examined every piece? I don’t think you realize the full value.”
Damian raised a brow, faint amusement flickering at the idea of me lecturing him—the expert. Without a word, he picked up the two glasses of champagne from the table and handed me one. Something unreadable glinted in his eyes as he lifted his glass. Then he draped an arm casually along the back of the couch. The relaxed gesture softened him. For the first time, he seemed almost human. Approachable. And that, strangely, steadied me.
“I’m all ears, Miss Elfhorn.”
“And he really just left you sitting there?” Damian asked, pouring me another glass of wine and shaking his head. “What a coward.”
I let out a short laugh. “Exactly. That’s what he did.”
“And you just stayed?”
“I stayed in the villa alone. We’d already rented it. It was only our third day in Italy. We’d spent the afternoon at the beach and had planned to go out to a small restaurant that evening.”
“And then this soft-hearted fool just left because his ex needed him?” Damian’s tone sharpened with disbelief.
“He said he had to leave immediately and even asked for the money he’d set aside for dinner. Then he packed up, called a taxi, and was gone. I never saw him again.”
“Incredible. And what did you do with yourself all alone?”
“The best thing I could—I made a list of every historical site and museum nearby. Each morning I set out early to explore.”
Damian took a bite of meat and leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “What did you see?”
“First, Pompeii. I spent the entire day wandering the ruins, imagining what life had been like. The houses, the streets, even the frescoes on the walls—it was surreal.”
He listened with an attentiveness that surprised me.
