Chapter Three: A Dangerous Encounter

The hum of conversation in O’Malley’s dimly lit pub faded into the background as Grace’s heartbeat thundered in her ears.

Damien Blackwood moved toward her booth with the same unshakable confidence he carried everywhere each step deliberate, unhurried, a predator certain his prey wasn’t going anywhere.

Grace’s pulse skittered wildly, but she forced herself to sit up straighter, shoulders squared. This was her place, not his.

Lila leaned across the table, whispering with a grin she barely tried to hide. “Girl, he looks like trouble dressed in Armani. If you don’t want him, can I have him?”

“Lila!” Grace hissed.     

“What? He’s hot. Like… unfairly hot.”

Grace shot her friend a glare just as Damien reached the table. He stopped beside them, his storm-grey eyes never leaving Grace’s.

“Miss Monroe,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough to make her stomach clench. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Grace crossed her arms. “This is my spot. What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying a drink.” His lips curved faintly. “And apparently, better company than I expected.”

Lila smirked, clearly enjoying the tension. “Don’t mind me, just the wing woman. You two carry on.”

Grace kicked her under the table.

Damien’s gaze flicked to Lila briefly before returning to Grace. “May I sit?”

“No,” Grace blurted, a little too quickly.

His brow arched, amused. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Before Grace could stop him, Damien slid into the booth beside her, not across from her beside her. Close enough that she could smell the faint hint of his cologne, woodsy and dark, wrapping around her like smoke.

Grace shifted away instinctively, but the booth trapped her between him and the wall.

“This isn’t funny,” she muttered.

“I’m not laughing,” Damien replied, his voice low and velvety.

Her cheeks burned. Why did everything sound like an invitation when he spoke?

Lila, ever the instigator, grinned. “So, Damien Blackwood, huh? Billionaire, mogul, most eligible bachelor in the city. And yet, here you are, in a dive bar, chasing after my best friend. Should I be flattered or terrified for her?”

Damien’s lips twitched. “Both.”

Grace groaned. “You two are not bonding right now.”

“Relax, Gracie,” Lila teased. “I like him.”

“Well, I don’t,” Grace snapped, though the heat in her chest betrayed her.

Damien leaned in slightly, his shoulder brushing hers. “Liar.”

Her breath caught. She turned to face him, intending to fire back, but the words tangled in her throat when she met his gaze. Up close, his eyes weren’t just stormy grey they were layered, flecks of silver and darker shadows swirling like a tempest she couldn’t escape.

He studied her silently, and for a terrifying moment, Grace thought he could see straight through her through her defenses, her sarcasm, all the walls she’d carefully built.

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded finally, her voice cracking despite her best effort. “What do you want from me?”

The question hung heavy between them.

Damien’s expression softened just barely, almost imperceptibly. His voice was quiet when he answered. “I want to see what you’ll do when someone refuses to let you hide.”

Grace froze, her heart slamming against her ribs.

For a second, the pub, the people, even Lila’s mischievous smirk disappeared. It was just the two of them, locked in a silent battle neither could win.

And then

“Hey, Grace!”

The spell shattered as a familiar voice cut through the air.

Grace’s head whipped toward the entrance, her eyes widening.

It was Ethan Carter.

Her ex.

And from the look on his face as he spotted her sitting pressed against Damien Blackwood, he wasn’t here to say hello.

Grace’s blood ran cold.

Of all the people to walk into O’Malley’s tonight, it had to be him.

Ethan Carter.

Her ex-boyfriend. The one who had broken her heart two years ago with the same easy smile he was flashing now though it didn’t reach his eyes when they landed on Damien.

“Grace,” Ethan said, striding toward the booth. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Grace scrambled to slide out of the booth, but Damien shifted just enough to block her, his arm resting casually on the back of the seat. It wasn’t a cage, exactly but it felt like one.

“Ethan,” Grace said quickly, her voice tight. “This is”

“Damien Blackwood,” Ethan interrupted, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, I know who you are.”

Damien tilted his head, unbothered. “Do you, now?”

Ethan ignored the question, his eyes darting between them. “Funny. Grace never mentioned you.”

“She wouldn’t,” Damien replied smoothly. “We only just met.”

Something dark flickered across Ethan’s face. “And already sitting this close, huh?” His tone was laced with accusation, his gaze drilling into Grace. “Didn’t take you long.”

Grace bristled. “Excuse me?”

“Hey, back off,” Lila snapped from across the booth, clearly sensing trouble.

But Ethan didn’t back off. He leaned against the table, looming over them. “You’ve always had a weakness for men who look dangerous, Grace. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Grace’s cheeks burned with a mix of anger and humiliation. “You don’t get to come in here and judge me. Not after what you did.”

The table went still.

Damien’s storm-grey eyes sharpened, flicking between them. “What did he do?”

Grace shot him a warning look. “Don’t.”

But Damien’s voice was ice. “What. Did. He. Do.”

Ethan’s lips curved into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, Blackwood. But if you’re going to play the hero, you should know Grace has a history of picking the wrong men. I was just the first mistake.”

The words sliced through Grace like glass.

Before she could respond, Damien rose smoothly to his feet, towering over Ethan without a hint of effort. His calm was more dangerous than anger a storm gathering in silence.

“You’re right about one thing,” Damien said, his voice low and lethal. “It is my business now.”

The air in the pub shifted. A few patrons glanced over, sensing the tension. Lila looked like she was ready to throw popcorn into the scene.

Ethan sneered. “Careful, Blackwood. You may own the city, but you don’t own her.”

For a second, Grace thought Damien might actually strike him. His jaw tightened, his fists flexed at his sides.

But then, in typical Damien fashion, he leaned in close enough for only Ethan to hear. His lips barely moved.

“I don’t need to own her,” Damien murmured. “She’ll choose me.”

Ethan’s face darkened.

Grace shot to her feet, shoving between them before this turned into a full-blown fight. “Enough!” she hissed.

“Both of you.”

Her hands trembled as she glared at them both. “This is my life. Not some battlefield for your egos.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ethan finally stepped back, his expression tight. “You deserve better, Grace. Remember that.” With one last venomous glance at Damien, he stormed out of the pub.

Grace stood frozen, her chest heaving, until she felt Damien’s gaze on her again. She turned, ready to unleash the storm inside her.

But he looked calm. Too calm.

“Interesting,” Damien said softly, almost to himself. “You run from me, but not from him.”

Grace’s throat tightened. “Don’t you dare compare yourself to Ethan.”

His eyes burned into hers. “I don’t need to. You already know I’m not like him.”

Her breath caught with anger, with fear, with something far more dangerous.

“Damien…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Stay out of my life.”

And before he could stop her, she bolted from the booth, pushing past the crowd, desperate for air.

She didn’t see Damien’s expression as she fled.

But if she had, she would have realized one chilling truth:

Damien Blackwood wasn’t going anywhere.