Page 13

Chapter 13

Holly

I slammed the door to my room shut; the sound reverberating in the silence that followed. I locked it behind me, the click of the latch echoing like a heartbeat in my ears.

My body still burned from Damien—his touch lingering on my skin, his kiss seared into my memory. I could almost feel the ghost of his breath against my neck, igniting a whirlwind of conflicting emotions inside me. How had I let it happen?

Dragging both hands through my hair, I felt the tension coil tighter in my chest. “ This isn’t happening. This isn’t real, ” I whispered to myself, desperate for some semblance of control.

But deep down, I knew it was real. The feel of him lingered on my skin, an intoxicating mix of anger and longing that sent shockwaves through me. This was all my fault.

I paced across the small room, trying to shake off the weight of what had just transpired. The walls felt like they were closing in; every inch reminded me of him—of us. The way he pinned me against that wall had been both terrifying and exhilarating, as if he’d unlocked something within me I thought I’d buried long ago.

“ What is wrong with you? ” I scolded myself, flopping down onto my bed with a huff. The sheets felt cool against my heated skin, but they couldn’t wash away the memories that flooded back—the good and the bad alike.

The truth settled like a stone in my stomach: Damien still had power over me, whether I wanted to admit it or not. The very idea made me want to scream and cry at once. My heart raced as shame washed over me for letting him back into my life after everything he’d done.

“ You’re stronger than this ,” I muttered under my breath, but it sounded hollow even to me. How could strength coexist with this simmering desire? How could I stand against him when every part of me craved his chaos?

I stumbled into the bathroom, flicking on the light. The fluorescent glow illuminated my face, revealing the storm of emotions swirling in my eyes. My breath caught as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

There it was—a mark on my neck, a vivid reminder of Damien’s possessive kiss. A rush of heat flooded my cheeks, and I instinctively touched the bruise, feeling a pulse of shame mingling with something darker that lurked beneath the surface.

“ You should be ashamed ,” I told myself, but even as the words left my lips, they felt empty. A primal urge coursed through me, tightening low in my belly, igniting a fire between my thighs that I couldn’t ignore.

I turned away from the mirror, shaking my head as if I could physically dislodge those thoughts. I should know better than to let him get this close again. After everything he’d done to ruin my reputation once, why would I put myself at risk again? He’d do it without hesitation—he thrived on chaos and destruction.

Yet here I was, drawn back into his orbit like a moth to a flame. My father had fought hard to pull me away from Damien's world after all those years of turmoil. He had seen what Damien could do and vowed to protect me from that darkness. Why was I flirting with disaster? Guess it didn’t matter, not with how he threw me to the wolves.

Or wolf, one very specific wolf.

“ I didn’t push hard enough ,” I whispered into the silence, frustration curling around my throat like a noose. Somewhere inside me lay an unsettling truth: I had let him slip past my defenses too easily.

My heart raced as the reality hit me—I was already losing this battle before it had even begun. Every encounter with Damien seemed to drag me deeper into his chaotic world where rules blurred and danger loomed at every turn.

And worst of all? A dark part of me wanted to be there, craved that intoxicating thrill he offered despite knowing it could lead to ruin again.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table, the screen lighting up with my father’s name. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the green icon. Ignoring it felt like a tempting escape, but guilt pricked at my conscience.

He’d sacrificed so much for me, always trying to ensure I had a stable future—especially after my mother left and everything fell apart. And now, with this charity game looming over us, he was pushing me to work with Damien again, as if that was some sort of solution. The thought twisted in my gut.

I couldn't handle another lecture. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. The way he could dissect my choices left me feeling exposed and raw—especially after everything I’d just gone through.

But the guilt clawed at me again. After all he’d done to secure his position and support me through everything, how could I ignore him? I could give him that. I owed him that much.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed answer.

"Hello?"

“ Holly. I need you to listen carefully. ”

The way he said it made my heart sink; I already hated where this was going. My instincts screamed at me that this conversation would be another weight pressing down on an already fragile moment.

“ You’ve been invited to the Sinclaire estate this Saturday. ”

The words hung in the air like a lead balloon, suffocating any remnants of calm I had managed to muster. The Sinclaire estate—the very place where so many memories of Damien lingered, thickening the air around me like smoke from a fire that refused to die out.

I clenched my jaw against a wave of emotions rising inside me—panic mixed with dread and an unwilling longing for something I'd sworn I'd never want again. The last thing I needed was to be thrown back into his world so soon after everything.

“ Dad, ” I started but felt my voice crack under the weight of it all. "No."

I felt my heart sink as my father's words echoed in my mind.

“ Damien’s father is hosting a formal dinner for the charity event committee. It’s an important night for the university, and you will be there. ”

I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself. “ You can’t be serious. ” The words slipped out, laced with disbelief and panic.

“ I don’t care what’s going on between you and that boy. " He didn't waver. His tone was cold and clipped, as if he were discussing some mundane task rather than my impending doom. " You’ll be polite, you’ll dress appropriately, and you’ll go. End of discussion. You have a history. But it's been years. You have to move past it. "

My grip tightened around the phone as if I could crush the conversation with sheer force of will. “ You’re just going to throw me in there with him? ”

His irritation cut through the line like ice. “ You’re an adult, Holly. Act like it.”

The click at the end of his sentence echoed ominously in my ears as he hung up on me, leaving me reeling in silence.

I stood frozen for a moment, breath short and shallow, every muscle in my body tense with dread. A formal dinner at the Sinclaire estate meant I’d be forced into close proximity with Damien—an idea that sent a chill racing down my spine and made my stomach churn.

The thought of facing him again twisted like a knife in my gut. Could I really do this? My father’s insistence crushed any sense of agency I had left; he didn’t care about how much Damien haunted my thoughts or how deeply he had scarred me.

Panic clawed at my insides as I paced back and forth in my room. “ Act like an adult ,” I repeated under my breath like some kind of mantra to ward off the chaos threatening to consume me.

But inside, I felt anything but mature—I felt trapped, thrown into a situation where danger lurked just beneath the surface of polite smiles and empty conversation. How could I pretend everything was fine when it was anything but?

I dropped my phone onto the bed, its screen flickering as it landed facedown on the quilt. I stared at the ceiling, trying to find a way to breathe through the weight pressing down on my chest. This couldn’t be happening.

Just hours earlier, I had barely escaped Damien's grasp—his presence still clung to me like smoke. The way he cornered me outside that rink, his eyes blazing with that familiar mix of desire and danger, made my pulse race. Now, I was being forced into his home, into a world where everything felt unpredictable and chaotic.

My thoughts spun wildly, each one colliding with the next like a car crash in slow motion. How could my father think this was a good idea? Didn’t he see what Damien had done? The way he’d bulldozed his way back into my life without so much as a warning? The thought of stepping into that grand house again made bile rise in my throat.

The Sinclaire estate was more than just a house; it was a reminder of everything I wanted to forget. Each room held echoes of laughter and love twisted into something dark and suffocating. Memories danced in the corners of my mind, taunting me with flashes of who I used to be before Damien turned everything upside down.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories—the intimate dinners we shared that felt like they belonged to someone else now, where every secret shared tasted bittersweet in retrospect.

“ You can’t keep running from him ,” I muttered under my breath. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t just about running anymore; it was about facing him again when every fiber of my being screamed for escape.

The silence in my room felt heavy as if the walls themselves were closing in on me. What would happen at dinner? Would he corner me again? Would those stormy blue eyes lock onto mine and ignite that old spark all over again? The very idea sent a shiver racing down my spine.

I took a deep breath and pushed myself off the bed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal trying to find an exit that didn’t exist. Every step echoed the turmoil inside me—a battle between fear and an unexplainable draw toward him I couldn’t shake off.

This wasn’t just about dinner; it was about survival. And right now? My instincts told me I might not survive this encounter intact.

I pressed my palms against the cool surface of my desk, trying to ground myself as my breathing turned uneven. The weight of what was coming crashed down on me like a tidal wave. I knew exactly how this would go.

Damien would corner me. He’d find a way to slip past my defenses, breaking through the carefully constructed walls I’d built around myself. He always had a way of making me feel small, vulnerable, and exposed, especially in his world—his territory—where everything felt heightened and chaotic.

My heart raced as I imagined the ornate rooms of the Sinclaire estate—the grand staircase, the polished floors, and the walls lined with trophies that celebrated a legacy I was all too familiar with. It wouldn’t take long before he zeroed in on me, using that dark charm that had once captivated me and twisted into something dangerous.

“ You have to stop this ,” I whispered to myself. “ You can’t let him back in .” But each time I thought I could cut him out completely, I felt the pull growing stronger—like a magnet drawing me back into his orbit.

This dinner would be a test—a test of strength against someone who thrived on weakness.

I needed to prepare for battle. This wasn’t just about facing Damien; it was about reclaiming control over my life before he could push me until I cracked under pressure. Before I slipped back into his grasp where everything felt like chaos again.

I grabbed my phone again and stared at it as if it held answers—some magic solution that could cut him out completely from my life. But there were no easy answers here; only hard choices ahead of me—and fear clawing at my insides every time I thought about seeing him again in that house.

Determination surged within me like an electric current; I couldn’t let myself be drawn back into his world. Not again.

I opened my phone and pulled up Damien’s number, my heart pounding as I stared at the screen. My fingers hovered over his name, trembling slightly. It felt like a lifeline, yet it also threatened to pull me deeper into a whirlpool of destruction.

I could block him. I could text him and tell him it was over. Just like that. End this madness before it spiraled further out of control. I had thought about it countless times since I had kissed him—thought about how easy it would be to cut the connection entirely and escape the tumultuous storm he brought with him.

But instead, I just stared at his name, the letters bold against the bright background of my screen. My breath hitched in my throat, caught between a need for closure and an undeniable desire for him to remain right where he was.

Because the truth was, I didn’t want him to disappear.

The thrill of his presence lingered in my veins like a drug, intoxicating and dangerous. Every time he walked into a room, everything else faded away; all that remained was that piercing gaze that seemed to strip away my defenses piece by piece.

I wanted to forget all the pain he had caused me—the way he could switch from charming to violent in an instant. But here I was, battling with the longing that twisted inside me like a wild vine wrapping around my heart.

Why couldn’t he just stop making me want him?

The thought pounded in my mind like a drumbeat—relentless and chaotic. How could someone who’d hurt me so deeply still hold such power over my emotions? The conflicting feelings churned within me, swirling together until I felt dizzy.

Each second stretched on as I remained frozen in front of his name. It felt safer not to act—to stay in this limbo rather than risk confronting the truth: part of me craved his chaos even when logic screamed for distance.

As if sensing my hesitation from across the invisible divide between us, I could almost hear his voice echoing in my mind—low and taunting. “You know you want me. ”

My breath quickened again at the memory of how he’d looked at me when we kissed—the way everything around us had faded until there was only Damien and me caught in our own world.

My hands shook as I typed out a message, each word feeling heavier than the last.

This can’t happen again. Whatever this is. It’s over.

I hit send and dropped the phone onto my bed, almost expecting it to combust from the weight of my emotions. My heart raced, and an unsettling quiet filled the room, wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket.

And then? I waited.

The seconds ticked by painfully slow, each one stretching into an eternity as I stared at the screen, willing it to remain dark.

But it buzzed barely a minute later.

I already knew it was him before I even looked.

You keep saying that, little lamb.

Let’s see if you can say it when I’m in front of you again.

My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. The words ignited a mix of anger and fear that roared to life within me, churning in my stomach like a storm threatening to break loose. He always had a way of weaving through my defenses with ease, playing with my emotions like they were marionette strings dangling from his fingertips.

In less than forty-eight hours, I would be standing in his house where everything began and where so much had ended in pain and heartbreak. The thought sent another shiver down my spine; every part of me felt on edge at the idea of being trapped in his world again.

What would happen when we were alone? Would he smile that wicked grin that made my heart race for all the wrong reasons? Would he push me against a wall again and whisper those intoxicating words into my ear?

My breath quickened as visions of our past danced across my mind—the laughter shared beneath starry skies and heated kisses that turned desperate. A part of me craved those moments while another part screamed for distance and safety.

I tossed the phone aside as if it burned me, but deep down, I knew I’d pick it up again.

I always did.

The storm inside me roared louder than ever as I prepared for what was coming—knowing full well Damien wouldn’t let me escape so easily this time, not when he had me exactly where he wanted me.