3. The Fiancèe

Chapter 3

Olivia;

What do you do when you're engaged and about to wed the man you know deep down is the love of your life in a month, but your ex shows up? The one man who shattered and broke your heart three years ago. And you realize, painstakingly, that maybe, just maybe, you still have unresolved and complicated feelings for him?

That's me right now. Standing in the lavish hall the Kingstons had arranged and decorated for my engagement with Marcus. With the gut-wrenching realization that these two were brothers.

And honestly, I don't know what to make of this.

I’d spent three years thinking I’d moved on. Three years of rebuilding myself from the shattered pieces Damon left behind. And it took just a night for everything to come crashing again in the form of those piercing, stormy eyes I'd once memorized.

Right now, I couldn't breathe. And I sure as hell couldn't take my eyes off him either. My feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. I was frozen, caught in the middle of a really cruel joke.

I felt really, really sick.

Of all fucking coincidences in the world. Here I was: Engaged to the brother of the man I had once loved with everything in me.

My dress suddenly felt too tight. The room too hot. My vision blurred at the edges. I couldn’t breathe.

I could see his lips move, but I was too far lost in my head to grasp a hold of myself.

I could hear Marcus's worried voice...I could feel his hands on me. I could hear the chatter in the hall becoming increasingly louder and louder each passing second...

“Hey, hey, love. Relax. Relax okay…” Marcus' voice filtered to my subconscious just before the darkness overwhelmed me.

He was holding me back– it seemed like I had almost lost my footing as well.

“ I'm sorry, I…it must be something I ate.” I said, standing upright. But my voice sounded foreign to me.

But Damon’s eyes were on me. Calm, but dangerously collected.

I should be focused. This was supposed to be my engagement party, and we had only arrived.

Confrontations aren't my best suit, and I'd rather bury myself than deal with this right now. But...

A high-pitched voice suddenly reached my ears--

"Heyyy, D,"

I looked and saw...her. The knot in my chest tightened.

Of all the people to disrupt...it had to be her. Of course. They were here together. She belonged to him now. As if the universe needed to drive the knife a little deeper.

I wasn’t sure what burned more—jealousy or the betrayal I had no right to feel.

Layla sashayed towards us. On reaching Damon, she stumbled before casually wrapping her hands round his neck, finding his lips.

I couldn't take my eyes away. Something sharp twisted in my chest, and I felt my eyes sting with tears.

Nothing's changed. Just like that very day. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear anything else.

Damon's eyes locked on mine, and for a split second, the room stilled. But his jaw clenched, and he turned his face away from Layla’s kiss, leaving her pouting in confusion.

"You need to sit," Marcus broke the awkward silence and began to lead me towards the staircase. True to his word, his brother was indeed stuck up, and there was clearly a brother-hate relationship between them.

"Wait..."

Shit!

" Olivia? Is that you?"

I turned slowly, mustering a calm expression.

Her eyes widened in shock upon meeting mine, "Wh...what are you doing here--wait, you're the fiancèe!?

She sounded like she was in disbelief.

"You guys know each other?" Marcus asked.

Her eyes brightened, "Ofc--"

"It's great to finally meet Kingston's Bride to be. "My breath hitched as Damon cut in, closing the space between us. “Didn’t realize she was this breathtaking.”

He brought forth his hands and reached for mine. I tried to ignore the heat rising to my cheeks as he brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of my palm.

I don't know if he was shocked on realizing this piece of information, or... he'd known even before coming here. But if he hadn't, then he was really taking this more than I was.

Damon’s eyes flicked to Marcus, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Maybe I should've taken Dad up on his offer," he said, his voice low. "She is... incredible."

Marcus stiffened beside me, his hand tightening on my waist. My breath caught. Why did that sound like more than a joke?

“What offer?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. But my heart thudded in my chest. Now, Damon was smirking like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Marcus let out a small, strained laugh. “Didn’t know you were suddenly interested in family traditions, brother? And I can see you still love pushing buttons, don't you?"

“Oh, come on, little brother,” Damon said, cocking his head. “It’s just a harmless joke. Unless... you’re worried there’s something to be threatened about?”

The tension between them crackled. People were starting to glance our way.

I was also beginning to sense there was more to this, but the noise in my head was becoming increasingly loud and I just couldn't deal with all this.

My eyes accidentally drifted towards Layla, and gods, if looks could smother, I'd probably be six feet under by now.

I don't give a fuck. But her gaze was fixated on my hands, burning holes in them. And that's when I realized my hands were still in Damon's.

I quickly pulled away like I'd been burnt. Again, I really needed to focus.

“Come on, Marcus,” I said quickly, as I forced my gaze away. “Let’s go find your parents." I think I’m getting claustrophobic.”

As Marcus led me away, I didn’t dare look back. But I could feel them—Damon’s eyes, Layla’s daggers, and the glaring reality between the three of us. Making me sick to my stomach.

I thought I'd buried this years ago.