A Brush With Fire

Seraphina exhaled as soon as she stepped out of Naomi's office. Hopefully, the naive girl would take her advice seriously and avoid Rosie by all means.

She wished someone had told her those years ago that her mother never loved her, she sees her children as pawns to place in the right corners of the earth to enrich herself and increase her status in the elite society.

Seraphina fought back tears, she's been through this before. Hell, she thought she cried about this enough to forget all the terrible things she endured in her ex-husband's house.

He was the perfect person when they met, good-looking, smart, ambitious and he cared for her. She thought her mother had made the best choice for her until two years into the relationship and she found out how evil he was.

Never held back from hitting or humiliating her. He cheated on her with more than twenty women during their first two years of marriage and would often bring home his escapades and have sex with them right next to her on their matrimonial bed.

She had come home crying to her mother about her pain but Rosie told her to shut up and endure all it. Seraphina had stayed three more years after that and when her ex husband had pushed her off the stairs once, she knew she was done and her mother?

She's here to make life miserable! She's here to remind her how she's failed and she'll make sure no one else falls for her tricks like she did. Not even Elara who might seem far gone in Rosie's manipulations.

Just as she stepped into the main hallway, she nearly collided with Damon, who was walking towards the board room.

He paused, his gaze narrowing on his sister.

"Seraphina.”

Seraphina smiled. “Shit! I was hoping you wouldn't know I was here..” she smiled.

Damon's eyes went to the corner she had just turned from, the only person she wouldn't know in this company had to be Naomi.

His eyes narrowed on Seraphina, his fist clenched protectively. “Who were you visiting?" he asked, gritting his teeth.

The thought that she might have spoken to Naomi behind his back was enough to put him on edge.

Seraphina offered a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

“Someone important. It was just a friendly chat." She tried to move past him, but he blocked her path.

"Don't play games with me! I know you were talking to Naomi."

She sighed dramatically, a theatrical roll of her eyes. "Fine. I was. What do you care? I'm not a child, Damon. I can talk to whomever I please."

Damon covered the distance between them, dropping his voice in a dangerously low tone. “The person in question is my wife! Tell me, what the hell did you say to her?!”

Seraphina's smirk returned, a gleam of pure mischief in her eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

“Answer me Seraphina! What did you tell her?” He warned, making her flinch back in fear. She chuckled, decomposing herself.

“Enough words to scare her.” She patted his arm condescendingly. "Relax, big brother. Everything's fine. Your little bride is safe and sound."

“You-”

Seraphina sidestepped him and walked away, her laughter echoing down the hallway.

Damon stood there for a moment, jaw clenched, the desire to snap at her fought with the need to maintain his professional facade. He could tell, by the look in her eyes and the careless way she carried herself, that she had delivered a warning.

Damon shuts his eyes, trying to catch his breath. Should he stop by Naomi's department and check if she's okay? Hell, he's probably the last person she wanted to see!

Damon walked towards the boardroom regardless, his rage now contained. He'll have to ask questions later.

《Damon's Mansion》

Later that evening, the mansion was quiet as Naomi walked up the stairs after a long day at the office.

As much as she tried to forget Seraphina's warning, it weighed heavily on her mind. She could almost understand where Damon was coming from, where he grew up and why he was so guarded.

She walked into the master bedroom, her mind already on a hot shower, a final attempt to wash away the day's events.

Damon was already there, standing by the large windows, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He turned as she entered, his gaze immediately falling on her.

Naomi did not acknowledge him, she was respecting his wishes and giving him the space he so desperately needed!

"Did Seraphina stop by your office today? What did she say?" he finally asked.

It's been bothering him all day and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he just couldn't.

Naomi didn't reply. She simply walked past him.

She didn't want to talk to him, not after he had left her hanging, left her so hungry and exposed. She started unbuttoning her blouse, her eyes fixed on the closet door.

All she had to do was pretend he wasn't even in there to begin with.

Damon watched, mesmerized and horrified. He saw the first button come undone, then the second, revealing the delicate line of her collarbone.

The silence was broken only by the soft click of buttons. Damon forces himself to look away, he needs answers to his questions.

"Naomi, I'm asking you a question," he said, desperation creeping into his voice.

She ignored him, shrugging the blouse from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a soft heap. Her hands went to the zipper of her skirt, a slow, agonizing slide that made his breath catch in his throat.

He saw the smooth curve of her back, the faint indentation of her spine and that damned tattoo that will forever haunt his dreams.

That's why she got it. That's why it had to be there, just right there on her waist..

The skirt joined the blouse on the floor. She stood there in her lace-trimmed camisole and panties. Soon, she sheds her remaining clothes as well, naked. Damon's throat felt dry.

The anger and frustration he had been holding onto all day turned into a different kind of heat.

"Naomi," he said again, his voice now a low growl. He took a step towards her.

She finally spoke, her voice calm and steady as she walked towards the bathroom. "They're your family, Damon. You deal with them."

He followed her as he set his wine glass on the table, his irritation growing with every step.

He knew his family members were difficult. He had been so worried they might have threatened her, might have said something to tear her down even further. Now, seeing her so distant, infuriated him.

"I'm asking what she said to you. It's a simple question."

Naomi stepped into the bathroom, the tiles felt cool under her feet. She reached for the shower knob, turning it to let the hot water run.

"She said what you already know," she said, her back still to him. "To avoid your mother. That she's a professional humiliator. That you tolerate her, but I don't have to."

The words hit Damon like a physical blow. Seraphina had always been blunt. No, she became blunt after her divorce and come to think of it, he never asked her why she chose to leave.

His relationship with his siblings was a bit complicated, one thing he wasn't ready to explore just yet. Or ever.

But Seraphina told Naomi something he had been so afraid to admit himself.

He stood in the bathroom doorway, watching her as she stepped into the shower, the steam rising around her.

He was captivated, unable to look away.

The water slicked her skin, revealing the graceful slope of her shoulders and the gentle curve of her hips. He saw the faint blush on her chest, the way her hair, dark and wet, clung to her neck.

His body stirred, a deep, aching throb that was both thrilling and torturous.

He wanted to take step closer, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the warmth of her skin, to see if the distance she was creating between them was as real as she made it seem.

She turned off the water, turning to face him. She stretches her hand to something behind him, face void of expression.

“Towel.” She said simply.

Damon swallowed, he almost thought that hand was an invitation. Hell, he wouldn't hesitate to take it! Fuck his reason, he would take that hand a thousand times over.

He reached for the towel and hands it over to her as she approached him. She wraps it around her body, the heat of her shower almost grazing his skin.

Just as she was about to leave, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to his body, his breathing ragged. He couldn't help it. He wanted her so bad...

His face buried in her shoulders as he pulled her closer to his body.

“I was worried.” He said against her skin. And then, he placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder and then her neck and then..

"Don't," she said, making him freeze.

She stepped back, away from his touch, the water trickling down her hair.

"Remember what you said to me? You can't. We can't do this."

Damon exhaled, his own words thrown right back at him and it hurt like hell. He had pushed her away, and now she was pushing him back. He was the one who had created this, and now he was drowning in it.

Without another word, she walked out of the bathroom, her bare chest still gleaming from the water.

As she passed him, her fingertips grazed his, a brief contact that felt like an electric shock. The touch was short-lived, but it was enough to drive him completely insane.

He felt how delicate and soft those hands were and how they had clung to him that night, a reminder of what he had denied them both.

He stood there, motionless, the sensation of her touch burning on his skin, the sight of her retreating figure etched into his mind.

He had been so scared of what he might do to her, of what his darkness might unleash. But now, seeing her walk away, a part of him wondered if leaving things like this wasn't the greatest harm he could have done.