Chapter 5: Damon

Elena’s POV

I stood outside the club, staring up at that glowing window one last time. Without a flicker of doubt, I pulled out my phone and dialed the police.

“Hi, I’d like to report some illegal activity at the Private Club… Yeah, third floor. It’s a prostitution sting waiting to happen.”

Damon watched me, a predator’s grin spreading across his face.

“It’s done,” he said, checking his own screen. “The photos will hit her university’s forum in an hour. By tomorrow morning, the whole campus will know exactly how Candy’s been paying her tuition.”

I didn’t say anything. I just watched the streetlights.

“Elena,” Damon’s voice dropped, “why did you ask me to keep Julian’s name out of the police report? You still catching feelings for that loser?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped. “His company is going public soon. If he goes down now, my shares are worth zero. I’m not protecting my husband, Damon. I’m protecting my bank account.”

He nodded, looking more than satisfied with that answer. When we got to his car, his bodyguard, Marcus, handed me the keys.

“I’m taking the night off, Miss. My girlfriend’s waiting.”

Damon gave me a playful flick on the forehead, mocking me. “You didn’t think I was lying, did you? I’m way too buzzed to drive. I really did call you for a ride.”

He hopped into the passenger seat. I stayed frozen on the sidewalk.

“I don’t drive.”

Damon paused, something clicking in his head. He got back out, snatched the keys, and hailed a taxi instead. The whole ride was silent. He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closed, fighting the whiskey.

When we pulled up to his penthouse, I helped him out.

“How’d you know I lived here?” he mumbled. “I never gave you the address.”

“Julian mentioned it once.”

I was calm now. Saying my husband’s name didn’t even hurt anymore. It felt like talking about a dead man. I walked him all the way to his door to hand him back his keys, but as I reached for my phone to call a ride, Damon snatched it out of my hand and locked the screen.

“Get inside,” he ordered.

I hesitated for a heartbeat, then followed him. He flipped on the dim lights in the foyer. In the amber glow, he looked even bigger, like a wolf cornering its prey. My heart started racing. My back hit the wall, and suddenly, there was nowhere left to run.

He leaned in, his face inches from mine. His eyes were burning with raw, unfiltered hunger.

“Elena… you realize what happens if you walk through that door?”

His voice was a low growl. I just stared back at him, my mind spinning. Then, in one breath, I made my move. I grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him toward me.

“You’re right,” I whispered. “Why should I stay faithful to a man who’s already traded me in?”

Before I could even finish the sentence, the look in Damon’s eyes turned into a wildfire. He looked like a beast that had finally snapped its chains. Without a word, he slammed his lips against mine.

It knocked every thought out of my head. My first instinct was to fight it, to push against that chest of solid marble, but his arms were like steel bands, pinning me to him. The kiss was a goddamn hurricane—bossy, starving, and impossible to stop. He took over, claiming every inch of me with a fury that stole my breath.

Slowly, my strength just… evaporated. This electric heat started crawling under my skin, melting every bit of my resistance. For the first time in my life, I stopped overthinking. I stopped being the betrayed woman, the business professional, the "good wife." I started kissing him back, my hands clawing at his shoulders like I was drowning.

Damon let out a low groan, a shiver ripping through his massive frame. He scooped me up, carrying me halfway to the bedroom.

The room was dark, with just a sliver of moonlight cutting through the velvet curtains. He dropped me onto the king-sized bed. My hair spilled across the white satin sheets like an ink stain. Damon hovered over me, his eyes devouring me, his heavy breath hot on my skin. The temperature in the room felt like it jumped ten degrees. In the silence, our shadows blurred into one.

I woke up at the first light of dawn. Damon was still out, one heavy arm draped over my waist. His steady breathing ticked against the back of my neck, sending weird jolts through my body. He hadn’t stopped until the sun was almost up.

Even asleep, the man was gorgeous. Sharp features, a jaw that could cut glass, and that aura of power that never really turned off. Damon’s family ran the financial elite, and at nearly thirty, he’d never had a single scandal. People in the industry even whispered that he was asexual or hiding something.

Well, I definitely fact-checked that one for them last night, I thought with a sharp, bitter irony. Damon wasn't just "interested"—he was a force of nature.

I slid out of bed as quietly as I could, feeling like a thief as I scrambled for my clothes. I had to get out of there.