Then he moved. Too fast. Too close. His hands shot forward, gripping my wrists hard, shoving them away. “I don’t want to need you like this.”
He meant it—and somehow, that was worse. The words hit like a blade.I don’t want to need you like this.Raw. Unfiltered. It stole my breath.
Finally—something real.
No control. No mask. Just him. His fear. His truth. A man fighting something bigger than himself. Rejecting not me, but the part of himself I had forced open.
And maybe that’s why it hurt so much—I couldn’t tell if he was rejecting me or himself.
With a sudden, violent movement, he yanked me against him, kissed me hard, then spun me and pressed me into the cold glass. His hand clamped around my throat, his breath scorching my ear.
“You make me weak. Damn it, I’m not that man. I’m not the man who loves.” He spat each word like poison.
“Damian,” I croaked, lungs clawing for air as his grip tightened. Panic spiked. I clawed at his hands, fighting for space.
“It would be so easy,” he whispered. “Just one moment.”
His hold wasn’t strangling me—it was strangling what I brought out of him. My heart hammered. His hands shook, but his grip lingered too long. One thought cut through the haze:He’s serious.
Then, as if burned, he tore away.
I stood trembling under water that suddenly felt like ice. His fingerprints burned on my neck like shadows. My hands flew there, trying to rub them off, but the ache wasn’t outside—it was in me.
I’d thought I could see through him, behind the mask. But this wasn’t an outburst. It was a glimpse of what lived deep inside. And still, I wanted to follow.
What was wrong with me? Why did his darkness pull me closer instead of pushing me away?
He could have killed me. Just like that. And for one terrifying heartbeat, I knew he wanted to—not from hate, but from madness. From despair.
I leaned against the shower wall, gasping for air, my heart pounding so hard it screamed:Run. Now. Before it’s too late.
But my feet didn’t move. Because another voice whispered:Stay. Maybe he loves you. Just… differently.
Chapter 16 Damian
Ientered my office. Mason. In my chair. Smug bastard, like he owned the place. I shook his hand firmly. Fucking bastard.
“I’m sorry you had to wait. I couldn’t postpone the meeting.”
“No problem. I had an important call myself,” he said smoothly. “And our meeting today wasn’t planned anyway.”
No, it wasn’t, you filthy bastard.
“I received your invitation to the gala,” Mason went on, settling back with that cutting stare of his. “Some impressive names on the guest list. And a little bird told me you’ll be unveiling something rare…” He paused, smiling with pointed intent. “Or rather, that Daisy Elfhorn played a crucial role in it. Seems you’ve gained quite a lot with her. Not only professionally, but otherwise.”
If you put her name in your filthy mouth again—
My fingers twitched. My jaw locked. He knew exactly what he was doing, daring me to crack, to expose her importance. I forced myself not to blink.
“That’s right,” I said evenly. “It will be an important event for me and my company.”
“Since we’ll soon be partners, tell me—what kind of find is it?”
“A unique artifact belonging to Ramses III.”
“Do you have proof?”
“I do.”
