Chapter 2

I didn’t answer him right away.

The words kept getting stuck behind the huge lump in my throat and the tears that wouldn’t stop leaking no matter how hard I wiped them.

Also because he sat two stools away, watching me like I was some sad mess that had crashed into his perfect, expensive night.

I hated that he was seeing me like this, eyes swollen, makeup ruined, the stupid anniversary gift bag still crushed in my lap like I couldn’t let it go.

Another tear slipped. I swiped at it angrily and grabbed my second drink, taking a long gulp that burned all the way down and made my eyes water even worse.

“Slow down,” Damien said, reaching like he might take the glass. His voice was low. “You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

I held onto it tighter, glaring through blurry eyes. “Tomorrow is already shit. What’s one more bad decision?”

He didn’t even argue with me. Just watched as I took another big swallow. The liquor mixed with the pain until my head felt fuzzy and my thoughts started spinning wild.

I kept seeing Marcus’s face. That smirk. The way he kept moving even after our eyes met. My chest hurt so bad I wanted to scream.

“Tell me what happened,” Damien said after a minute. His voice had an edge now. “Or don’t. Your choice.”

I let out a shaky, wet laugh. “Your brother… I caught him with some girl. At our anniversary party. He looked right at me and laughed, Damien. Laughed. Like I was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.”

The words spilled out messy and slurred. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, not caring. “I swear I gave him everything. I believed every one of his lies. I even stayed when things were hard. And he just… threw me away like I never mattered.”

Damien’s jaw tightened so hard I saw the muscle jump. He looked away for a second, staring at the bottles like he wanted to smash them. When he turned back, his eyes were burning. “Where is he right now?”

I shook my head fast, the room tilting. “No. Don’t. I don’t want you going after him.” My voice was slurring more. I took another sip anyway. “I just… I can’t go home. I can’t sit in my empty apartment thinking about how blind I’ve been this whole time.”

He stayed quiet, but I could feel the tension coming off him in waves.

I knew he wanted to get up and go deal with Marcus. Part of me wanted that too. But another part , the drunk, hurting part that had always noticed Damien in the background at family things, always told myself he was off-limits, was bubbling up stronger than ever.

I leaned toward him, my hand landing on his arm, gripping his sleeve. “I don’t want to be alone with all this in my head,” I whispered, words running together. “I just want to stop feeling like this. Even for one night. I want to forget him. Make me forget, Damien. Please.”

He went completely still. His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense. For a second I thought he might pull away. Tell me I was crazy. Send me home.

Instead his hand came up, covering mine on his arm. His grip was warm and strong. “You’re drunk,” he said, voice rough. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I do,” I breathed, leaning in closer until my body brushed his. The bar felt too hot. Too loud. All I could think about was how good it would feel to drown out Marcus with something else. “I’ve always known you were different. I just never let myself think about it before. But right now… I don’t care.”

Damien cursed under his breath. His hand tightened on mine, not pushing me away. “You’ll hate me for this tomorrow.”

I pressed closer, tears still wet on my cheeks. “Then make it worth it.”

He stared at me for what felt like forever, fighting something I couldn’t see. Then he stood up suddenly, pulling me with him. He tossed money on the bar and steered me toward the door, one arm around my waist like he didn’t trust my legs.

The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside. His car was waiting. Before he opened the door, he turned me to face him, hands on my shoulders, eyes burning.

“Last chance,” he said, voice low and strained. “Get in this car with me and I’m not stopping. You understand what that means?”

My head was spinning, the alcohol and the pain and the heat between us making everything feel wild. I looked up at him, heart pounding, and nodded.

“I understand.”

He opened the door.

I got in.

As the city lights blurred past the windows, carrying us deeper into the night, Damien’s hand landed on my thigh, heavy and warm.

His fingers flexed once, like he was barely holding himself back.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, voice rough.

I didn’t answer. I just leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and let the car carry me toward whatever came next.

His hand slid higher on my thigh, grip tightening as the car sped up. “Tell me to stop right now, Elena,” he said, voice low and dangerous, thumb brushing the edge of my dress. “Because if you don’t… I’m pulling over and taking what you’re offering right here.”