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My parents.Dad was impatiently standing near the entryway, and Mom was seated on the couch, her head in her hands, looking worried and tired.I dropped Damon’s hand instinctively.I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The last time we’d talked, I’d lied. Said I was fine. Said I was working late. Said I was always at home, busy studying.Damon stepped in behind me, silently giving me the courage to take a step forward.I stepped inside.“Mumma?” I called.She turned, eyes widening. “Shifu!”She ran to me, arms wrapping around me tightly. “Where were you? We were so worried!”Dad joined her; relief washed over his face. “You didn’t answer your phone, baby. We thought something had happened. Baby, we were so worried…”I didn’t let him finish.“I’m fine, Daddy…” I whispered. “I was just… uhh…. with a friend.”I lied.And I knew the moment I said it — I’d made a mistake.I side-glanced at Damon.His expression changed instantly.Was he pissed?Of course he was.He had just declared his love fo
Morning came, but the dread didn’t leave.I woke up tangled in Damon’s sheets, his arm draped over my waist like a claim. His breath was steady, his body warm against mine. But I couldn’t stop the chill crawling up my spine.I hadn’t slept.Not really.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blood dripping from the punching bag. The limp body in the corner. Damon’s laughter echoing in that dungeon-like room. Ryan’s smirk. Alex’s casual chuckle.They weren’t horrified. They weren’t shaken.They were comfortable.Of course, they were comfortable. They had done that to those two men. Yes, those men were bad news — I knew that. But the state in which I saw them… it was inhuman.And that terrified me.I hadn’t said a word. Not last night. Not this morning. I didn’t dare.What if he knew I’d seen?What if he was waiting for me to bring it up?What if silence was the only thing keeping me safe?I slipped out of bed quietly, tiptoed to the bathroom, and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were
But I knew better. She was whispering something. Probably “Congratulations.” But her lips brushed his cheek, and her eyes flicked sideways — locking onto me with a smirk that screamed challenge.The announcer called some bigshot from of boxing, who handed Damon the WBC International Heavyweight Title, congratulating and praising him.The crowd roared.Cameras flashed.But my eyes were fixed on Annaida’s hand on Damon. The way she clung to him and the victory smile plastered on her face. A challenging look in her eyes. Mocking me.I felt small. As if I were nothing. Like I didn’t belong in this world of flashing cameras and designer gowns. Which was the Ultimate Truth.Alex, standing beside me, noticed. He placed a hand gently on my shoulder, trying to ground me, distract me. But it didn’t help. My gaze was locked on Damon.And Damon… he saw it.He saw the way my bright, glowing face dimmed. He saw the way I shrank beneath Annaida’s smirk. He noticed Alex’s hand on my shoulder.And som
I held him.Tears streamed down my face as I cradled Damon in my arms, his body trembling, blood dripping from his mouth, his skin bruised in shades of purple and red.He was broken.Beaten.But victorious.His trainer rushed over with a first aid kit, dressing the gash above his brow, wrapping his ribs. Damon winced but didn’t complain. He just kept his eyes on me, like I was the only thing tethering him to this world.Fedric Brunetti had already been rushed to the hospital. He hadn’t moved since the knockout.Damon kissed me quickly, his lips warm despite the blood still drying on his skin. I wanted to hold him longer, to shield him from the chaos, but before I could say anything, the medics stepped in.“He needs to be checked immediately,” one of them said, already guiding him away.Damon didn’t resist. He looked at me once — a glance that said everything — then let himself be pulled toward the medics. His body was swaying, his steps uneven. The robe hung loosely off his shoulders,
Then came the day of the match.Damon had left early with his trainer, long before the sun rose. I didn’t even hear him go. Alex had promised to bring me along later — said Damon wanted me rested, calm, untouched by the chaos of the arena.But I wasn’t calm.I was tense. Worried. Praying.I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers curled around the promise ring Damon had given me, whispering silent pleas to whatever god would listen. That he would win. That he would be safe. That he wouldn’t come back broken.I knew what this fight meant.It wasn’t just a title match. It was a reckoning.The WBC International Heavyweight Title was on the line — the belt Damon should’ve claimed, but didn’t. Because he never showed up for the semi-finals. All because of me.Tonight’s match was designed for brutality.And I was terrified, counting each minute.And finally it was time, Alex waited for me in the foyer, dressed in a sleek black suit, his expression unusually serious. He didn’t tease. Didn’t flir
I opened the door, expecting Damon.But it wasn’t him.It was Alex.And for a moment, the world tilted.He stood there, leaning against the doorframe. His brown shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, his hair tousled just enough to look effortless, and that signature smirk — the one that made people forget their own names — curled at the corner of his lips.“Shefali?” he said, blinking.“Holy hell… you’re here?”I nodded, stunned. “Alex?”He laughed, stepping forward. While his eyes scanned me from head to toe,“I thought I was at the wrong mansion for a second.” He teased. “You— wow. You look… different.”I was still wearing one of Damon’s oversized white shirts and a denim shorts — soft, and barely mid-thigh. I hadn’t bothered with makeup. My hair was messy from the shower. But Alex kept looking at me like I was something rare. Something exquisite.Alex’s gaze lingered on the ring, the promise ring glinting on my finger.“So…. it’s true,” he murmured.“You and Damon… Hmm… Not bad.”I