Chapter 5

Lana's POV

The cold night air stung my skin as I stepped out of the nightclub, my heels clicking against the damp pavement. My chest still rose and fell unevenly, the chaos inside my head refusing to quiet. The muffled bass of the club faded behind me, replaced by the distant hum of cars and the occasional honk, but it did little to drown out my thoughts.

I was glad Damon didn’t chase after me. If he had… I wasn’t sure I could handle facing him again after everything.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I rubbed my palms over my forearms, trying to keep warm. My gaze darted left and right down the street, searching for a cab. All I wanted was to get home, away from this mess, away from him.

But the words from that phone call kept circling in my mind, relentless and sharp.

"If I ever go begging her to get back together, I’ll be a dog."

How dare he? How could he say something like that, and now stand before me, arrogant, demanding, as if none of it ever mattered?

I clenched my fists tighter and exhaled a shaky breath, forcing the sting in my chest back down.

Just then, a sleek black car rolled up in front of me, silent and smooth, like it belonged in a world I didn’t want to be part of right now. The tinted window slid down, and his stormy- gray eyes found mine under the faint streetlights.

Damon.

“Get in,” he said simply, his voice low, soft, yet threaded with an authority that made my stomach twist. “I’ll drive you home.”

I turned my head away and forced my voice to sound steady. “No. I’ll manage.”

For a second, silence stretched between us. Then, his voice came again, calm but with an edge I recognized too well.

“If you want the fragment, Lana,” he said, his gaze unwavering, “you should be obedient… and make me happy.”

My head snapped back to him, my pulse kicking up. That smug expression of his wasn’t offensive, but it irritated me to the bone. Still, I swallowed my pride, forcing my tone flat.

“Fine,” I said, each word tasting bitter. “Drive me home.”

I opened the door, slid into the passenger seat, and shut it firmly.

Inside, the faint leather scent of his car mixed with his cologne, too familiar for my liking. He drove off.

The silence was heavy until Damon spoke again, eyes fixed on the road.

“What my friend said earlier,” he began, “he was joking. Trying to provoke me.”

I crossed my arms and stared out the window, my voice clipped. “Well, I don't care for an explanation.”

The corner of his mouth curved faintly, but he didn’t stop. “I regret it, you know,” he said quietly. “Back then… when we broke up. I was too proud. Too stubborn.”

I kept my gaze on the passing streetlights, but my chest tightened anyway.

“I should’ve fought harder,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, almost to a murmur. “I should’ve followed you like a dog if that’s what it took to keep you.”

The unexpected confession caught me off guard. A startled laugh escaped me before I could stop it, though there was no humor in it. I shook my head, pressing my lips together.

But my laughter died as I suddenly realized where we were.

We had stopped.

I blinked, my gaze shifting to the window and froze.

My apartment.

My stomach dropped. I had never told Damon my new address. Slowly, I turned toward him, unease curling in my chest.

“How…” My voice was quiet, strained. “How do you know where I live?”

He didn’t answer immediately, just looked at me with that unreadable expression of his, before giving a faint, infuriating smile. “I make it my business all this while to know everything about you, Lana.”

My lips parted in disbelief, a thousand protests dying in my throat before I could speak. He has secretly been keeping an eye on me all these periods and I never suspected.

He got out of the car casually, then came around to open my door like a gentleman, as if the last ten minutes hadn’t just been a storm.

I stepped out, brushing past him, and muttered, “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome,” he said smoothly, then glanced at my door before looking back at me. “Aren’t you going to invite me in for a cup of coffee?”

I stared at him, my jaw tightening. “No.”

He didn’t flinch. Instead, his tone shifted, soft but laced with a warning. “Then maybe we should talk about the fragment again. My displeasure should be your least priority if you want that.”

My body went stiff, anger simmering under my skin. He was using it like a weapon, and he knew it.

I glared at him, my voice flat but restrained. “Fine. You can come in. But there’s no coffee, and nothing for you to drink.”

He smirked, clearly amused by my frustration, and stepped closer. I instinctively took a step back, only to feel the cold surface of his car against my spine.

Before I could react, he leaned down, his face just inches from mine, and pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. My breath hitched, my eyes widening at the unexpected touch.

When he pulled back, a faint, infuriating smile played on his lips as he murmured softly, “You still look so cute when you’re angry.”

My chest thudded, heavy and fast, and I hated the way my body betrayed me with its tremor.

I wanted to shove him away. I wanted to scream in reprimand. But all I could do was stand there, trapped between his presence and the cold car behind me, unable to move.

My breath felt uneven as he turned around without another word, his tall frame moving with that unshaken calmness that somehow only made my heart pound harder. He opened the driver’s door and glanced back at me briefly, his voice low but steady.

“I’ll come over for a visit another day,” he said, sliding into the car as though nothing had just happened between us. “Think about what I said, Lana… I’ll wait.”

I just stood there frozen, my hands still hanging uselessly at my sides. I wanted to say something, anything, but my throat refused to cooperate.

The car engine roared softly to life, and in seconds, he was pulling away from the curb. My gaze followed the sleek black vehicle until it disappeared from sight.

I forced myself to turn away, my legs carrying me in slow, heavy steps, but my mind was a mess of tangled thoughts I couldn’t untangle. Damon… waiting for me? After everything I’d done? After I left him for Liam?

I stopped walking and sucked in a shaky breath.

Almost unconsciously, my fingers rose and brushed lightly against the side of my face where his lips had just been. The spot still burned softly, like a hidden ember beneath my skin, refusing to die down.

Why did it feel… warm?

The sensation spread through my chest before I could stop it, a mix of guilt, confusion, and something far more dangerous that I didn’t want to name. My heart gave a hard, painful thud as I clenched my fist to stop the trembling.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way anymore.

And yet… I couldn’t deny it.

Damon had stirred something in me that I thought I had buried a long time ago.