61. Drinks And Mask.

Rose POV

I waited.

That was all I did at first—wait.

The bar was louder tonight than it had been the last time I came. Music played low but heavy, the kind that pressed into your chest instead of lifting your mood. Glasses clinked. Laughter broke out in short, sharp sounds. The lights were dim, tinted red and gold, casting shadows that moved like they were alive.

I sat at the same spot Damien had told me to meet him.

I checked the time.

Then I checked it again.

I wasn’t angry.

Just nervous.

I told myself this was normal. People ran late. Especially people like Damien—men who looked like they owned rooms without trying. Men who walked like the world already made space for them.

I folded my hands together on the table to stop them from shaking.

Why am I even here? I asked myself.

Because I said I would be.

Because I didn’t like running anymore.

Because something about him felt unfinished.

People stared...in a very creepy way.

I noticed it slowly, then all at once. Eyes kept sliding toward me, then quickly away. Some didn’t bother looking away. They just watched.

It made my skin crawl.

I tried to ignore it.

Then the room changed.

I felt it before I saw him.

The noise dipped, like the bar had taken a breath.

Then Damien appeared.

He stepped out from the inner room like he belonged to the shadows. Black coat. Dark shirt. Calm face. Sharp eyes. He moved like nothing could touch him.

Every head turned.

I swallowed.

He walked straight to me.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling out the chair across from me. “I was delayed.”

“It’s okay,” I replied quickly. “I wasn’t angry.”

He paused, studying me.

That look again.

Like he was trying to see through me.

“Good,” he said. “I don’t like anger..from people.”

I gave a small smile. “Noted.”

A server came over immediately, nervous and respectful.

Damien ordered drinks without looking at the menu.

Strong ones.

I raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest.

When the drinks arrived, he lifted his glass slightly. “To unexpected meetings.”

I clinked my glass against his. “To weird cities.”

We drank.

The alcohol burned my throat, but I welcomed it. It helped settle the nerves. A little.

“So,” Damien said, leaning back. “Who are you really, Rose?”

I laughed lightly. “That’s a big question.”

“I like big questions.”

I shrugged. “I’m just someone trying to start over.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the truth.”

He watched me closely.

I met his gaze and didn’t flinch.

He smiled faintly.

“My turn,” I said. “Who are you really?”

He tilted his head. “Someone with too much time and too little patience.”

I frowned. “That’s also not an answer.”

He chuckled softly. “Seems we’re even.”

We drank again.

Conversation flowed, but it stayed on the surface. Where I grew up. What music I liked. What food I missed from my old city. He told me small things too—safe things. Nothing real.

We were circling each other.

Careful.

People kept staring.

I noticed it more clearly now.

They weren’t just curious.

They were shocked.

Every time Damien leaned closer to hear me over the music, the room seemed to stiffen. Every time I laughed, heads snapped our way.

I lowered my voice. “Why are they looking at us like that?”

Damien followed my gaze, unimpressed. “They always look.”

“No,” I said slowly. “This feels different.”

He smiled without warmth. “They’re bored.”

I wasn’t convinced.

We drank more.

The alcohol started to sink in properly. My head felt light. My limbs warm. Words came easier.

Damien noticed.

His eyes sharpened.

He ordered another round.

I hesitated. “Maybe I should slow down.”

“You’re fine,” he said calmly. “You trust me, don’t you?”

I shouldn’t have.

But I nodded.

We drank.

I laughed more.

My cheeks warmed.

The room started to blur at the edges.

He leaned closer. “Tell me something real, Rose.”

I blinked. “Like what?”

“Like why you really left.”

I shook my head. “That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

I smiled sadly. “I was tired of loving someone who didn’t choose me.”

There.

It slipped out.

His expression shifted.

Just slightly.

He studied me harder.

“And now?” he asked.

“Now I’m tired of running.”

We drank again.

I didn’t notice how heavy my body felt until I tried to stand and nearly fell.

Damien caught my arm easily.

“I think that’s enough,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I protested weakly.

“You’re drunk.”

I laughed. “You did this on purpose.”

He didn’t deny it.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

I nodded, trusting him without knowing why.

That was my mistake.

Damien POV

She held her liquor longer than I expected.

That alone surprised me.

Humans usually broke faster.

They talked.

They cried.

They confessed.

Rose didn’t.

Even drunk, she kept her walls up.

That made me curious.

Annoyed.

Interested.

The bar watched us...shocked.

Let them watch.

I didn’t respect them.

Never had.

When I stood and helped Rose up, whispers spread like smoke.

I ignored them and looked at my people there telling them to mind their business with my stare.

I knew where she lived.

Of course I did.

I had her stalked since the wood incident.

I carried her easily to my car.

She mumbled something I couldn’t understand.

Her scent still made no sense.

I laid her gently on her bed in her room.

She slept immediately.

I searched the room.

Nothing.

No clues.

No charms.

No signs.

My phone rang.

“Lord Damien,” my guard said. “We caught fresh food.”

I looked at Rose.

Sleeping.

Peaceful.

“Keep them,” I said coldly. “I’ll come later.”

I ended the call.

I wasn’t done with her.

Not yet.

I left the room quietly.

Tonight, I would find answers.

One way or another.