Page 15

Chapter 15

Holly

I stood in front of the mirror, the weight of my reflection pressing down on me. The dress hugged my curves just right, a deep emerald green that brought out the flecks in my hazel eyes. I had chosen it for its elegance, hoping it would help me blend into the sophistication of the Sinclaire estate. But now, as I adjusted the thin straps and smoothed out the fabric, I felt like an imposter dressed for a masquerade ball.

My fingers trembled slightly as I secured my hair into soft waves, a far cry from the messy bun I usually wore. Tonight was supposed to be a display of poise and charm, but inside, anxiety gnawed at my insides like a hungry beast.

As I slipped on a pair of strappy heels, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was stepping into the lion's den. The Sinclaires were known for their perfection—everything polished to an immaculate shine—and here I was, walking into their world with all its glitz and power.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself. My heart raced at the thought of Damien lurking somewhere within those grand walls. He would be there, with that maddening grin and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me. What would happen when our paths crossed? Would he pull me back into his chaotic orbit?

With one last glance at my reflection, I grabbed my purse and headed toward the door. Each step felt heavier than the last as I made my way to my car. The night air was cool against my skin, but it did little to quell the heat rising in my chest. This dinner could change everything—or plunge me deeper into Damien’s world from which I thought I had escaped.

As I pulled up to the Sinclaire estate, a wave of anxiety washed over me. The grand facade loomed like a fortress, its lights twinkling against the darkening sky. I parked and took a moment to steady my breath, my stomach in knots. The anticipation twisted inside me like a live wire, each pulse reminding me that tonight could be a reckoning.

I stepped out of the car, ignoring the shabbiness compared to the other pristine vehicles, and smoothed my dress again, wishing it would somehow shield me from what lay ahead. With every step toward the entrance, I braced myself for Damien to corner me, to pull me back into his chaotic world. But nothing could prepare me for what I actually saw when I entered the ballroom.

The soft glow of chandeliers illuminated the crowd, but my eyes zeroed in on him almost immediately. Damien stood across the room, an easy confidence radiating from his imposing figure. But he wasn’t alone.

My heart dropped as I took in the sight before me—a stunning girl with cascading brown hair and an infectious laugh leaned into him. His hand rested possessively on her hip, and he leaned down to whisper something into her ear that made her giggle like they shared an inside joke. His lips brushed against her neck in a way that made my chest tighten painfully. Hadn't his lips been on my neck a few days ago? Hadn't he left a mark that was faded now?

I felt frozen in place, the laughter and chatter around me fading into a dull roar. The world blurred as I focused solely on them—on him—with that girl whose bright smile seemed to light up even his darkest corners.

I didn’t exist anymore; only this hollow ache remained where hope had once thrived. As they continued their intimate display, a storm brewed inside me—a mixture of disbelief and jealousy crashing against one another.

The sight cut deeper than any blade ever could, severing any illusion I had that I could remain untouched by him or his world. My heart stopped as reality crashed over me: he had moved on while I was still caught in our tangled past.

I stood frozen, a spectator in my own life, as Damien leaned into that girl with the bright smile. The way he touched her was intimate, calculated—a performance that screamed manipulation. He knew I was here; I could feel it like a physical force pulling at the air between us. He was playing me, and I hated how much it affected me.

My gut twisted with jealousy, rage boiling beneath the surface. It shouldn’t hurt this much. This wasn’t supposed to matter anymore. Yet every laugh that erupted from her lips felt like a knife slicing through my defenses.

You keep saying it’s over; I reminded myself as the crowd swirled around me, so why does this feel like a knife to the throat?

I couldn’t stand there any longer, trapped in that moment where everything about him threatened to unravel me again. My heart raced as I turned away, shoving through the crowd toward the bar.

If Damien wanted to play games?

Fine.

Two could play at that game.

The polished wood of the bar felt cool against my palms as I leaned forward, trying to steady my breathing. The bartender approached with a raised eyebrow.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Whiskey,” I replied sharply, my voice more demanding than I intended. I needed something strong—something to drown out the images of Damien and that girl wrapped up in each other.

The bartender poured a generous measure into a glass and slid it across to me. I was grateful he didn't card me. As I took a sip, the burn settled in my throat, igniting something fierce within me. It felt good—reminded me of how alive I could be when anger coursed through my veins instead of despair.

I glanced back toward Damien and found him still ensconced in his little world, that girl giggling beside him like she had stolen all his attention and affection. It made my blood boil; it shouldn’t matter what he did or who he chose to entertain himself with.

With another gulp of whiskey, I steeled myself for what was next. He thought he could toy with me? Make me jealous? Then let him watch as I played along—smiling at every guy who dared approach me at this ridiculous charity event while keeping an eye on him.

Let’s see how long he could keep up this charade before realizing he didn’t have me under his control anymore.

I took another sip of whiskey, the burn igniting a fire in my belly that I hoped would help drown out the sight of Damien with that girl. As I set the glass down, feeling a bit more grounded, I caught movement from the corner of my eye. A man approached—tall and polished, with an air of confidence that spoke volumes.

He wore a tailored suit that looked as if it had been made just for him. His hair was neatly styled, and his smile was easy, charming—clearly used to making women feel special. He stopped just a breath away from me, his gaze lingering on my dress.

“You look like you could use an escape from all this,” he said smoothly, his voice rich and inviting.

I forced myself to smile, reminding myself that he wasn’t Damien.

“Maybe I do,” I replied, allowing him to touch my arm lightly. His fingers felt warm against my skin, and for a moment, the world faded into a blur.

“Such a beautiful dress,” he continued, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “I’m impressed you can pull it off in this crowd.”

“Thanks,” I said, glancing toward the sea of perfectly groomed faces surrounding us. “I think it’s more about surviving than thriving at this point.”

He chuckled softly, and it was infectious—a sound that drew me in like a moth to flame.

“I’m Andrew,” he introduced himself with a slight bow of his head. “And you are?”

“Holly.”

“Holly,” he repeated as if savoring the name. “It suits you.”

I found myself relaxing under his attention. I could feel Damien’s stare from across the room, a burning sensation that sent prickles down my spine. His jaw was tight, and I could almost see the tension radiating from his clenched hands. He stood there, surrounded by laughter and conversation, by that brunette, but I knew he was only focused on me.

Good.

Let him fucking burn.

Andrew leaned closer, a playful smile on his face as he teased, “What do you say we make our escape? This place is way too stuffy.”

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed in my purse, jolting me back to reality. I hesitated, feeling a knot of anxiety twist in my stomach. The message glared at me:

Don’t do this, little lamb.

My heart kicked up a notch. Part of me wanted to look again—needed to know what else Damien had to say—but I ignored it, determined not to let him ruin this moment. Not tonight.

“Want to get out of here?” I whispered in Andrew's ear, my voice low enough that only he could hear me. A thrill coursed through me at the thought of breaking free from this oppressive atmosphere and Damien’s unyielding gaze.

Andrew’s eyes lit up with excitement as he nodded eagerly. “Absolutely."

I felt a surge of relief wash over me as I stepped away from the bar, taking one last glance at Damien before we moved deeper into the crowd. His expression darkened when our eyes met for just a moment—a flash of something primal flickered across his face that made my breath hitch.

But I forced myself to look away, focusing on Andrew instead as we wove through the throng of elegantly dressed guests. The chatter faded behind us as anticipation bubbled within me.

Andrew drove me home, the gentle hum of his car easing the tension that had coiled around my heart since stepping into the Sinclaire estate. I should’ve felt guilty for leaving my car behind, but I pushed those thoughts aside. My father wouldn’t be home, and I welcomed the idea of escaping into a quiet space where I could breathe without the suffocating weight of Damien’s presence looming over me.

Andrew was nice—too nice, perhaps. He offered easy laughter and charming compliments that made me feel light. As we cruised through the streets, I caught myself stealing glances at him, appreciating the way he focused on the road with a casual confidence that made it easy to forget everything else. It was almost comforting, knowing he didn’t carry any of my history.

But then again, none of it mattered if it meant forgetting Damien.

As we parked outside the house, a surge of determination washed over me. The moment Andrew opened his door and stepped out, I felt a fire igniting within me—a fierce desire to erase every trace of Damien from my mind and body. Without thinking twice, I leaned in as soon as he approached me, our lips crashing together before we even made it inside.

His hands found their way to my waist as we stumbled backward through the door, urgency guiding us like a wild dance. The kiss was electric—raw and desperate—as if I could physically chase away the ghost of Damien that still clung to my skin like an unwanted shadow.

I melted against Andrew, letting myself get lost in this new moment while pushing thoughts of Damien aside. Our mouths moved in sync, heat building between us as hands roamed over clothes that felt foreign compared to what had been mine for so long.

With every kiss, every brush of skin against skin, I tried to bury the memories of how Damien’s touch had felt—possessive and fierce—fighting against the tide of emotion that threatened to pull me back under.

It felt easy.

Normal.

Andrew’s lips pressed against mine, soft and inviting. The kiss deepened as he pressed me against the wall of the house, his body molding to mine with a warmth that was meant to feel comforting. I tried to focus on the moment, on him—the way his hands tangled in my hair, how his breath tasted sweet like the whiskey I had drunk earlier.

But with every heartbeat, the nagging thought crept in.

Not Damien.

Not how much this wasn’t him.

Andrew’s kisses were gentle but firm, a stark contrast to the chaotic fire that ignited within me whenever I thought of Damien. There was no edge, no rawness; just a simple connection that felt almost too perfect. And yet… something inside me revolted against it.

As he tilted my head back slightly, deepening the kiss, I felt the weight of that rebellion clawing at my chest. I hated every second of this because while Andrew was everything I thought I wanted—safe and sweet—my heart kept drifting toward the stormy chaos of Damien’s world.

I pulled back for a breath, searching Andrew's eyes for something—anything—that could anchor me here. But all I saw were kindness and interest reflected back at me. He looked at me like I was some kind of prize, not a girl teetering on the edge of emotional ruin because of someone else entirely.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, brushing a thumb across my cheek as if sensing my hesitation.

I forced a smile, trying to push away the memories of Damien—the way he held me tight against him like I belonged to him and only him, how his smirk could ignite anger or desire in one breath.

“Yeah,” I lied through clenched teeth, feeling the dissonance between my words and reality twist inside me like a knife.

As Andrew leaned in again, I closed my eyes tight against the flood of memories threatening to break through—the touch of Damien’s fingers along my jawline and that intense gaze that seemed to read my very soul. It sent shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with Andrew’s warmth pressing into me now.

I tried to silence those thoughts; tried so hard to lose myself in this moment with someone who seemed so perfect—but with each passing second, it became clear: no matter how much I wanted it to feel right, it never would be enough.

I tried to drown out the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind, but Andrew moved too fast. One moment he was leaning in, his lips on mine, and the next, his hands slid to my hips. I felt a heat radiate through me, but it quickly morphed into something else entirely.

"Wait —"

My heart raced as he slipped lower, his fingers grazing the edges of my dress. Panic flared in my chest like a sudden fire igniting dry grass. This was moving too fast, and all I could think about was Damien’s smirk, how he’d pull me close just like this before pushing me away with that same intensity.

“Come on, sweetheart. You brought me here,” Andrew urged, his voice low and coaxing. But those words sent a sickening twist through my stomach.

"I said stop."

The firm grip on my wrist felt possessive in a way that triggered something deep within me. It wasn’t rough or aggressive; it just felt too much. Too controlling.

“Andrew—” I tried again, forcing the words past the knot forming in my throat.

He didn’t listen. Instead, he pulled me closer, and I caught a glimpse of that confident smile—a charm meant to sweep me off my feet—but all I could see were flashes of Damien’s dark eyes watching from the shadows. The echoes of his touch lingered on my skin like an unwanted tattoo.

“Just relax,” he said, leaning closer as if to capture more than just a kiss this time.

But I couldn’t relax—not with the memory of Damien so fresh in my mind. Not when every instinct screamed at me that this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how things should go between two people who had just met.

“I can’t do this,” I managed to choke out as I yanked my wrist from his grasp, feeling an overwhelming urge to put distance between us. "This was a mistake."

I yanked my wrist from Andrew’s grip, my heart racing.

“I said, don’t touch me,” I said again, the urgency in my voice pushing me to back away. The warmth of his hands felt suffocating, not comforting.

Before I could step back far enough to catch my breath, everything changed.

One moment, Andrew was there—his smirk fading as confusion flashed across his face—and the next, he was suddenly yanked away from me. The force of it sent him stumbling backward until he hit the floor with a thud that echoed through the quiet hall.

I blinked in disbelief as Damien emerged from the shadows like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. His fists were clenched tight at his sides, and his jaw was set hard enough that I could see the muscle twitching beneath his skin. His eyes were dark—like thunderclouds rolling in before a downpour—intense and furious.

“Damien!” My voice came out half a gasp as adrenaline shot through me. I took an involuntary step back, my body instinctively bracing for whatever chaos would follow.

He stood over Andrew, breathing hard as if he’d just sprinted miles. There was nothing calm about him now; every ounce of control had shattered like glass beneath a hammer.

Andrew scrambled to push himself off the ground, surprise morphing into anger as he looked up at Damien. “What the fuck, man? Back off!”

But Damien didn’t seem to hear him. His focus remained locked on me, that same fury radiating from him like heat from a firestorm. I saw the way his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took—the raw energy crackling around him like electricity waiting to strike.

I felt caught between two worlds: one where I craved safety and normalcy and another where Damien's wild intensity ignited something dangerous within me.

I watched in shock as Damien didn’t answer Andrew. He just swung.

A brutal punch landed straight on the guy’s face, the sound of impact echoing in the small space. Blood spatters flew across the floor, a vivid splash of red against the pale tiles. My breath caught in my throat, my heart racing at the sight.

Damien was lethal like this—his rage coiling around him, thick and palpable. The way he moved, it was as if he’d been waiting for this moment, his body a finely-tuned weapon ready to unleash chaos. I felt a mix of fear and something else entirely—a twisted admiration for how he commanded that kind of power.

Andrew stumbled back, hands raised in surrender. “Jesus—okay, okay! I’m leaving!” His voice trembled as he backed away from Damien.

But Damien wasn’t finished yet. He grabbed Andrew by the collar, slamming him against the door with a force that made me flinch.

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking break you.”

The threat dripped from his voice like poison, low and dangerous.

The color drained from Andrew’s face as he met Damien’s fierce gaze, eyes wide with the realization that he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have even approached. He didn’t argue; fear propelled him out of the room like a bullet from a gun.

“Damien,” I finally managed to say, stepping forward hesitantly, but my voice wavered as uncertainty coursed through me. Did I want to pull him back from this edge? Or did I want to revel in how fiercely he protected me?

Silence. Heavy. Electric.

Damien turned to me, still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with a fierce rhythm that matched the chaos in my heart. His eyes locked onto mine—dark, possessive, fucking furious. I felt the heat radiating from him, the raw energy crackling in the air between us like a live wire ready to snap.

My pulse pounded in my ears. I should be mad. I should scream at him for acting like a wild animal, for throwing punches over something so trivial—over me. But instead, I stood there, frozen, chest rising and falling too fast as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

Because he came for me.

That thought sent a jolt of something thrilling through my chest. He hadn’t just shown up; he had charged into the room like a storm, fists ready to fight for what was his—what he believed was his. And deep down, I knew he always would come for me.

Damien took a step forward, and I didn’t move. My back pressed against the wall, the cold surface biting into my skin, leaving me with nowhere to go. The space between us felt charged, a tension so thick it made it hard to breathe.

“Do you think you can let another man touch you and I won’t fucking stop it?” His voice came out low and dangerous, each word like a blade slicing through the air.

My nails dug into my palms, grounding me as panic swirled inside. “You were with someone else first,” I shot back, desperation coating my words.

His jaw flexed, and he exhaled sharply. I could see his eyes flash with something volatile—anger mixed with a hint of something darker that made my heart lurch in my chest. “I was trying to keep you away,” he growled, his frustration seeping through the cracks of his controlled demeanor.

“Bullshit,” I snapped.

The space between us crackled with intensity as Damien leaned in closer, his voice rougher now. “She meant nothing. You know that.” But I felt the weight of those words like a stone in my stomach. “But you? You keep pretending you’re done with me, and then you do shit like this.”

He closed the distance between us further, looming over me like an impending storm. He stepped so close that I could feel the heat radiating from him—the dangerous edge of his presence wrapping around me like a suffocating embrace.

“I’m not pretending,” he said, voice dropping lower still. It was almost intimate now—dangerously so—and it sent shivers racing down my spine.

I swallowed hard, caught in a maelstrom of emotions that churned within me. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go; this wasn’t where I wanted to be—not pinned against a wall by Damien’s anger and magnetism at once. And yet… something about this chaos felt undeniably familiar—almost intoxicating.

“Damien,” I breathed out, but no further words came as everything hung in that taut moment between us, poised on the edge of disaster.

I stood there, trembling, my heart pounding in my chest. Damien's presence enveloped me like a storm, and the truth of his words crashed over me like waves against a rocky shore. He was right. I didn’t have a defense; every instinct screamed at me to fight back, but all I could do was stare into those stormy blue eyes that held me captive.

His fingers grazed my wrist, where Andrew had grabbed me earlier. The touch sent shockwaves through my body, igniting the fear and confusion swirling inside me. It felt wrong yet familiar—the possessiveness in his grip spoke volumes about how he viewed the world around him.

“You don’t let other men put their hands on what’s mine, Holly.” His voice dripped with authority, each word carving into the space between us.

I glared up at him, anger flaring to life as I fought against the rising tide of emotions. “I’m not yours,” I snapped, desperate to reclaim some semblance of independence even as my insides twisted in contradiction.

Damien’s smirk only deepened, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. “Liar.”

Before I could respond or even comprehend what was happening, he closed the distance between us with a sudden ferocity. His lips crushed against mine, and I gasped at the overwhelming rush of sensation. The kiss was hard and demanding—possessive in a way that left no room for protest.

My mind raced as I felt myself slipping beneath his spell once again. Every rational thought melted away under the heat of his body pressing into mine, igniting every nerve ending like wildfire. It should have scared me; it did scare me—but instead, it pulled me closer to him.