LOGINDamon’s POV:
Fuck.
The word played on a loop in my mind.
I gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, my jaw tight enough it ached. I dared a glance toward the passenger seat.
Ophelia was there. She was hunched over, her small frame nearly swallowed by the ov
Ophelia’s POV:The world had frozen.
— Four years ago —Ophelia’s POV:
Ilya’s POV:I watched as the blood drained from her expression. My heart skipped a beating, thudding painfully against my ribs. I had known this truth would be a heavy blow, but seeing the light of trust flicker and die in her eyes was almost more than I could stand.
Ophelia’s POV:I had signed the divorce papers.
Damon’s POV:“I’m not your property.”
Damon’s POV:Damn it. I knew I’d misspoken the moment the words left my mouth. But even as the regret flared, I couldn't reel it back in. The red mist of possessiveness was too much, the taste of my own jealousy too bitter to swallow.







