My movements freeze at the deep voice, every muscle in my body locking in place. I don’t dare turn to face the owner of that voice. Fear tightens in my chest, gripping me from the inside out.
“Excuse me?” I hear Summer’s startled tone.
“My wife. Where is she?”
The bite in the tone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. A burst of anxiety hits me right in the gut. This can’t be happening right now.
Damian. He has found me once again.
But why did he choose this moment to come for me, after three long weeks? Was it a deliberate delay, a calculated move to make me believe I’m safe before revealing his presence? Is he once again playing mind games, toying with my head in his own mysterious way?
Regardless, my time has run out. He is done playing with me. And has cornered me when my guard was down. A cold sweat breaks out all over me. Holding my breath, I slowly begin to turn. Fingernails dig in my palm as I come face to face with my nightmare. My husband.
A gasp is ripped from my throat at the sight of him. My heart plummets to my stomach as his dark eyes lock onto mine, drilling into me over Summer’s shoulder.
He moves past Summer with a predator’s grace, prowling toward me. Each step he takes matches the frantic thumping of my heart, growing louder as the distance between us shrinks.
His face is harder than the last time I saw him. The stubble on his sharp jawline is darker, more pronounced. Even now, at this hour, he wears a black three-piece Armani suit, thefabric stretching tightly over his muscular frame, emphasizing his intimidating presence, suffocating the room with his dominance.
He steps closer, and I force myself not to step back. His gaze sweeps down my short dress, his eyes darkening with every inch they travel, before slowly returning to my face. He reaches up, his hand gentle as it cups my cheek, and his voice is soft when he speaks. “I’ve been looking for you, angel.” But the softness vanishes as he hardens, his words turning cold and menacing. “How dare you run from me?”
A bone-chilling cold settles in my stomach, the blood draining from my face. Immobilized under his stare, I try to speak, “Da?”
He presses a calloused finger against my lips, his touch prickling my skin with goosebumps. “Shh… we’ll talk about this later. Let’s get you home first.”
I take a hasty step back.
He stalks toward me. “Tsk. Tsk. That’s not wise.”
I take a few unsteady steps back, my pulse racing, but he closes the gap in an instant. Before I can react, his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. “You have no idea how angry I am. You shouldn’t test me now, angel.”
My anger surfaces. “Let go of me. I am not going anywhere with you!”
“Oh, I don’t remember asking you.”
His response only probes the wounded self-respect of mine. It’s a slap to the face, a brutal reminder of how much I’d bent myself for him, how I let him walk all over me.
“Fuck you.” My hands slam against his chest, but it feels like pressing against pure steel beneath his black shirt. I push with everything I have, but he doesn’t budge. Not a single inch.
Tears of frustration gather in my eyes.
“Where are your rings?”
“I threw them away.” My voice is small.
After drugging Damian that night, I couldn’t stand anything that reminded me of him. So, in a fit of desperation and anger, I tossed my wedding band and the eight-carat engagement ring into the trashcan at the airport. It tore me apart to do it, because I had cherished those rings. They weren’t just jewelry; they were symbols of him, of our love—my very own fairytale. At least, that’s what I used to believe. The loss still hurts, but now all I feel is a new wave of rage crashing over me.
“You are in a lot of trouble.”
“Get out!” I cry out, struggling again.
Summer marches toward us, her posture stiff with irritation, though her face is still hidden behind the oversized party glasses she’s been wearing all night. I can practically feel the scowl radiating off her. “You heard her, buddy.”
There’s dead silence for several heartbeats before he turns his head to look at her. Without a word, he slides his gaze back to me. “Let’s not trouble your friend any longer. We can talk about this at home.”
I whimper when his fingers dig into my skin. Damian pauses, noticing the way I flinch, and with a sudden shift, he loosens his grip. The small gesture makes my heart believe that he might care. But I know better than to let myself hope.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I stare at him with unshed tears. “I am not coming. I’ve told you that. I want a divorce. I?”