Chapter two

Chapter 2

ELENA'S POV 

My fingers grazed the pendant on my neck, my lips quivering as I stared at my motionless grandma. The pendant had been a gift from her when I had given birth to Elijah. Back then, she seemed so full of life. 

And now…

I sighed, wiping my tear-streaked face with the back of my hand. Where did I go wrong? That question had haunted me for a long time now, and what hurt the most was that I had the answers. 

Damien Cross.

The name alone dragged me back to that night – when Clara invited me out, wanting to celebrate her promotion at the hospital. I still remembered the name of the bar as if it was yesterday. 

 

“Bar Seraphine," I said with a small chuckle as I dropped my bag on the table. "You really have a good taste, Clara.”

Clara shrugged, chuckling as she sipped her martini. “A Nursing Coordinator needs to have class," she said and I snapped my finger while I laughed. 

“So, you're having your own office now," I said, stirring my margarita mix with the tiny cocktail umbrella in my glass. 

“Yeah," Clara said with a soft sigh. “Well, that and a whole load of paperwork." 

“You haven't even started and you're complaining?" 

Clara rolled her eyes, scoffing as the corner of her lips twitched with a smirk. "Even though the pay is… much more better, I would say that the stress that comes with it is just… stressful.”

I laughed, leaning back in my chair. I was proud of my best friend and the look of satisfaction of her face only made me smile even more. But then, her expression shifted to one of curiosity. Her gaze had left mine and she was staring at something behind me. 

“What's it?" I asked, turning to see what she was looking at. 

Right at the bar counter, a tall man sat alone. He was dressed in a white shirt, the top unbuttoned, revealing his chiseled chest. I could not see his face clearly but I could tell he barely acknowledged the noise around him. He just sat there scrolling through his phone, his presence quiet yet… commanding. 

I bit my lip. 

“He's a regular here,” Clara said as I turned back to her. “He's really cute, you know. Girls have tried talking to him but he just ignores them all." 

I frowned, cocking a brow as I took a sip of my cocktail. "And… why are you telling me this?" 

Clara paused for a second and I could see a mischievous look flash in her eyes. “I dare you," she whispered, a sly smile forming on her face. 

“You dare me?" I asked and she nodded. “You dare me… to do what?" 

“Go talk to him, girl," she answered. “Or just get him to buy our drinks and I’ll give you a thousand dollars.”

I looked at Clara, trying to tell if she was joking, but she had the same look she wore whenever she picked up her books to study back in school. “You're crazy," I muttered, shaking my head. 

“I’m serious,” Clara replied immediately without cracking a smile. "You’re always so careful, so guarded. Live a little! What’s the worst that could happen?”

I turned to the guy again, my heart racing as I watched him order a drink from the bartender. I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or just me being tired of always playing the responsible one, but I found myself agreeing to her bet. 

“Alright then," I said as I stood up and began adjusting my skirt. “But you better get ready to pay up." 

Clara didn't say anything–she just tipped her glass at me before taking a slow sip. I rolled my eyes and turned to the bar counter. 

My heart pounded with each step I took and I found myself doubting my decision. But before I could even reach him, he turned–like he had somehow sensed my presence. 

I tried to talk but my words caught in my throat as his eyes met mine. His eyes held a hint of green and his gaze was sharp, as though he could see right through me. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

“How can I help you?" he spoke, his deep, smooth voice snapping me out of my daze.

Leaning against the counter, I quickly put on a smile and tried my best to hold a composed demeanor. “You can help us, sir," I said, tilting my head to the side. “Two drinks for me and my friend over there. On you." 

His expression remained the same–cold. "And why should I do that?”

My smile faltered at his response. "Well… because I asked nicely?" 

He stared at me for what felt like eternity before finally turning to the bartender. “Give them whatever they want," he simply said before returning his attention back to his phone. 

I blinked. “That's it?" 

He didn't give me a reply, just went on with his drink. I scoffed, taking my drinks and mumbling a ‘thank you’ before walking back to my seat. 

Clara couldn't hold in her laugh as she watched me return, a defeated look on my face. “You actually did it," she said amidst choking as she collected a glass from me. 

I grinned, shaking my head. “He didn’t even care. Just told me to order and went back to ignoring me.”

“Well, you still win,” Clara said, before taking a large gulp of her drink. “Gimme a minute. I've gotta pee." 

I chuckled, watching as she walked toward a backdoor when all of a sudden–

“Hello, beautiful." 

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a hand dropped on my shoulder. I turned to see two men, eyes bloodshot and steps staggering. Their speeches were slurred. They were drunk. 

“We've been waiting for over an hour now," one of them said as he grabbed my drink. “You… you still haven't gotten us our drinks." 

I frowned, pushing his hands off my shoulder. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't work here.”

The man smirked. “Don’t play dumb with us, darling. You just moved from the bar with two drinks. Go get us two beers–”

“I said, I don't work here." My voice resonated through the bar and some gazes shifted to us. 

Before I could move, the second guy grabbed me by the hand, pulling me off my seat. "Then how about you and that friend of yours keep us company.” 

“Let go of me," I shouted as I tried pulling my arm from his grip. 

The music screeched to a stop and everyone now had their full attention on us, watching as I struggled against the two drunk men. But before things could get worse, a voice cut through the commotion. 

“Let her go." 

The two men paused, turning to the voice. Standing behind them was the man from the bar. He had his hands in his pocket, his dark gaze calm yet terrifying. 

“What's it to you?" one of them asked as he let go of my wrist and turned to face him. "You wanna go–" 

“You and your friend should better get going,” he said as he stoped closed, his tone level. “If you don't, there will be blood and broken bones, and I guarantee you none will be mine.”

The man hesitated and I could tell the darkness in the eyes of the man standing in front of him scared him to death. “Whatever, man," he mumbled as he pulled his friend away, dragging him to the door. “Bitch is all yours." 

My savior waited until the men were gone before walking toward me. “Are you alright?" he asked as he grabbed my arm, helping me up.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, stumbling a bit as I tried to stay standing. “I'm just… a little dizzy.”

“You know you shouldn't be talking to strangers in bars," he said flatly as he wrapped a hand around my waist, holding me up. 

“Well… you were a stranger and look how that turned out,” I replied, managing a smile. 

For the first time, I watched a smirk tug at his lips. “You have a fair point there." 

I began laughing when everything suddenly began to blur around me. My head began to spin as the alcohol hit me at once. My legs gave way under me and I fell into his arms. 

And then, everything went dark. 

Moments later, I woke to myself laying on a bed that wasn't mine. Worse, I didn't know how I got there. I had already began panicking when I heard a calm voice beside me. 

“You're fine." I turned to see the man from the bar sitting on a stool by my bed, his soft gaze on mine. “You fainted and I brought you back to my room." 

I tried to talk but my words died in my throat. I didn't feel violated–instead, I felt at peace. His presence washed me with a calming sensation, drowning out every fear. Still, I couldn't imagine what would have happened to me if he wasn't there. 

“Thank you," I whispered as I watched him pour me a glass of water. 

“It's no problem," he answered, handing me the glass. Our fingers brushed for a brief moment and I felt my chest tighten.

Silence fell in the room as I brought the glass to my lips, taking a small sip. He didn't say anything else, just sat there watching me with his calm gaze. 

Then I broke the silence.

“What's your name?" I asked.

"Damien,” he replied. 

"Elena,” I said and he nodded. 

Sighing, he turned to leave but I grabbed his sleeves, gently pulling him back. He turned to face me, his hands reaching for mine. What began as a gentle touch turned into something either of us planned. Before I knew it, I had my arms wrapped around him, our body locked as we made love to each other. 

By the time I woke up the next morning, the room was cold and empty. The spot beside me was already made but he was gone–no number, no note, nothing. 

Still, he'd been generous to leave me something–a nine month surprise that became the only joy in my life.