Ch 9

"Damon... how... how are you here?" Clara’s voice cracked, choked by a sudden surge of tears that spilled over her eyelashes, wetting Damon's thumb as he gently wiped her cheek.

Damon didn't offer an immediate answer. Ignoring the startled stares of pedestrians and the line of halted vehicles, he slid one powerful arm beneath her knees and wrapped the other around her trembling back, scooping her up into his arms as effortlessly as if she weighed nothing at all.

"Let me go... Damon, what are you doing?" Clara weakly protested, but her strength had been entirely drained by the brutal betrayal she had just witnessed in Julian’s office.

"You are in shock, Clara. And you nearly got yourself killed," Damon whispered against her temple, his voice laced with an underlying edge of controlled fury. "I don't allow what belongs to me to get hurt. Especially not over a fool you were weeping for."

He carried her into the spacious rear cabin of his custom luxury sedan, where the scent of rich leather and dark sandalwood instantly enveloped them. The heavy door shut with a quiet thud, sealing them off from the chaotic world outside. Without a word of instruction, Damon’s personal driver smoothly pulled the vehicle back into the flow of traffic.

Clara curled into the corner of the leather seat, wrapping her arms around herself in a desperate attempt to stop her shivering. The vivid image of Julian with his secretary tangled over his mahogany desk played on an endless, agonizing loop inside her mind. The pain was a physical weight, crushing her lungs until every breath felt like swallowed glass.

Suddenly, a heavy, tailored suit jacket was draped over her shoulders. Damon shifted closer, closing the distance between them until Clara could feel the steady warmth radiating from his broad chest.

"He isn't worth a single drop of your tears," Damon’s deep voice resonated in the quiet cabin, dark and uncompromising.

"You don't understand anything, Damon," Clara choked out, staring hollowly at her reflection in the tinted window. "He's my husband... I surrendered five years of my life to him, and he..."

"He threw you away because he is blind," Damon interrupted smoothly. His long fingers reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that stood in stark contrast to the dangerous gleam in his eyes. "But I am not. I have always seen you, Clara. Past, present, and forever."

Clara turned her head, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Damon, that was more than ten years ago. We were practically children. That promise... it was just a naive childhood game!"

A faint, chilling smile curled the corner of Damon’s lips. He leaned in, dipping his head until his lips were barely an inch from hers, saturating the space between them with an overwhelming aura of dominance.

"To you, perhaps it was a game," Damon murmured softly, his possessive tone sending a shudder straight down her spine. "But to me, it was a sacred vow. You said 'yes' when I asked you never to leave my side. Did you truly believe I would let you go simply because you put another man's ring on your finger?"

Clara gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs. Damon’s fingers slid down to entwine with hers, casually tracing the golden band of her wedding ring before subtly tightening his grip.

"Your marriage died the moment he rejected you and chose another woman, Clara," Damon declared without a shred of remorse. "It is time you returned to where you truly belong."

"I... I need to go home. I need to settle this with Julian," Clara stammered, trying to pull her hand back from his iron hold.

Damon didn't force her, yet his gaze held her completely captive. "I will take you home. I will watch you put an end to this pathetic farce with him. But remember one thing, Clara..."

He bridged the remaining distance, pressing a soft yet possessively firm kiss against the corner of her trembling lips.

"...from this moment on, there are no more escapes. You are mine."

Ten minutes later, the sedan glided to a smooth halt in front of the iron gates of Clara and Julian’s suburban residence. The house that Clara had once cherished as a sanctuary now looked like nothing more than a hollow monument to her ruined devotion.

Damon stepped out first, opening the door for Clara with effortless poise. Before she could step down, his hand caught her wrist gently, anchoring her in place as he met her eyes.

"Remember, Clara. You do not beg, nor do you plead for anything from that man ever again," Damon’s voice was remarkably calm, yet it injected a strange, potent strength into her fragile frame. "If he makes things difficult, I am right behind this door."

Clara offered a faint nod, gathering what little courage she had left, and stepped toward the front porch.

Before her hand could touch the doorknob, the screech of tires echoed behind them. A red sports car pulled up recklessly, and Julian hurled himself out of the driver's seat. His hair was disheveled, his face flushed red with a volatile mix of guilt, panic, and burning jealousy as his eyes darted between Clara and the formidable man standing beside her.

"Clara! Where the hell have you been?!" Julian barked, striding toward her aggressively. "You run out of my office like a lunatic, and now you come home riding in another man's car?!"

Clara froze, turning to face him. She stared at her husband—the man who, merely an hour ago, had been holding another woman on his desk—now acting as though he was the injured party.

"I should be asking you that, Julian," Clara’s voice shook, but her eyes locked onto his without flinching. "What were you doing in your office? With your secretary?"

Julian flinched slightly, caught off guard by her direct confrontation. But his soaring ego quickly took over, masking his guilt with sheer aggression.

"It was a misunderstanding! I was stressed, and you..." Julian pointed an accusing finger at her, his voice rising, "You make me miserable, Clara! Look at you! You let yourself go, and now you blame me for seeking comfort elsewhere?!"

The words hit her like a physical blow, slicing through the last remaining ties of her affection. In that single, shattering moment, something inside Clara broke permanently—her foolishness, her guilt, and her love for Julian collapsed into ash.

A heavy, measured step sounded behind her. Damon moved forward, slotting himself directly beside Clara, shielding her with his broad frame as his intimidating presence completely overwhelmed the porch.

"Watch your tongue, Julian," Damon said quietly. His voice was low, yet laced with a lethal threat that made the air itself feel heavy.

Julian glared at Damon, trying to maintain his footing. "Who the hell are you?! This is between me and my wife! Get off my property before I call security!"

Damon let out a soft, dark chuckle—a sound devoid of humor that dripped with absolute disdain.

"Your wife?" Damon took a single step closer, looming over Julian with eyes that burned with cold arrogance. "A man who discards a diamond for trash has no right to call himself a husband. You were never worthy of holding her."