“So what? She won’t be the one I’m about to fuck.”
“Surprise,” I snapped. “I’m not, either.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t break. Just that unbearable calm, as if he’d already scripted this.
“You’re missing something, Daisy. Giving you space didn’t change anything. You’re still mine.”
“You don’t get to call me yours unless you’re mine too. And you’re not. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done. I won’t share you.”
“Then why are you here?” His voice was quiet. Dangerous.
My jaw tightened. “Because I’m a fucking idiot.”And worse—I still wanted him.I turned for the door.
“You’re the only one who challenges me. The only one I allow to push my limits. That’s why I won’t let you go.”
I didn’t look back. Couldn’t. One glance at him and I’d forget everything—the other woman, my pride, my own damn resolve. My fingers curled around the cold handle like a cliff edge.
“Daisy.” My name was a threat and a promise. A shadow clinging to me.
I pressed the handle down. A click. A decision. And he let me go. No grip. No resistance. Just a controlled release so deliberate it didn’t feel like freedom.
I left the room. But I wasn’t free. Not really. Because he hadn’t released me—he’d only chosen a new way to hold me. In his thoughts. In his life. In his game. I was already trapped.
In an oversized T-shirt, barefoot in my kitchen, a pan of vegetables hissed while I scooped rice into a bowl. Why couldn’t I just end it? Clear words. Sober. Professional. Maybe he’d accept it—maybe not. Not because he loved me, but because he needed me in a way that wasn’t healthy.
And yet I still waited for his messages. I let him tilt my balance, let him come and go as he pleased. I remained a door that never fully closed. Was that love? Or was I addicted?
I could quit. Leave the city. Start over. Reason whispered that every day. But then I’d be without him—without his voice, his eyes, the way he looked at me. Without the darkness that wrapped me, the thing I hated and missed both.
Why couldn’t he just love me? Why wasn’t I enough?
A short, bright beep cut the silence. My gaze snapped to the phone on the counter. My heart jumped—then hammered. When it beat again, I felt it in my throat.
Damian.
Even before I opened the message, my skin tingled, as if my body already knew. That forbidden pull spread through my chest, my stomach, between my thighs. Fear. Longing. Desire. All at once. Too much.
17:53 – Damian:I let you go. No applause?
17:55 – Daisy:It was never a victory. Just a retreat.
17:56 – Damian:You’re brave, little one. But we both know that at night you still hear my voice.
17:56 – Daisy:And you hear my silence.
18:03 – Damian:Your silence is deadlier than any weapon.
18:03 – Daisy:Then be careful not to cut yourself on it.
18:04 – Damian:I’d rather cut myself on you than never feel you again.
18:12 – Damian:What are you doing right now?
18:13 – Daisy:Eating hard-boiled eggs. And rice.
I bit my lip. What a stupid answer. Why couldn’t I be cool and mysterious like any halfway normal woman?
18:13 – Damian:I hope those are the only eggs you’re eating today. Or should I show you what else can get hard if you keep this up?
