Page 2 of Scorned Queen

“He’s not his father,” I say without hesitation.“Did he head down that path?Yes.Does he regret it?Yes.I grew up with him.I know him at his core.”

“Then why weren’t you together until now?”

“Aside from our age?”I ask, but don’t wait for an answer.“I forced the friendship thing down Damion’s throat.I was so afraid of losing my best friend that I wasn’t willing to risk it by dating.He’s a good man, and I promise you he’s as upset right now as you are.He’ll win.His father will not.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

At the sound of Damion’s father’s voice behind me, I go cold, and my eyes meet Mary’s, hers filled with warning and a promise: I’m out of my league.He’s brutal.I’ll get cut and bleed out if I dare stand against him.All of which I reject as surely as I did her assessment of Damion.I don’t even think about backing down.“I am,” I say, rotating to face him, my chin held high.“And so are you, or you wouldn’t be here tonight.”

He stuns me then by closing the space between us.We’re suddenly toe to toe, his garlic-scented breath fanning my face when he says, “You were always beneath him.That hasn’t changed.You were convenient.A fake fiancée to win over the board.They are not impressed any more than I ever was.You’re over your head and beneath his stature.Go away, little girl, before you get hurt.”With that, he offers me his back and starts walking.

I suck in a breath, and there are pins in my chest, hundreds of pins, pricking my heart, and I am bleeding on the inside in ways only Damion can make me bleed.Only it’s not Damion, I tell myself.This is his father who hates him, who is trying to hurt him through me, and I cannot let him win.

Mary’s hand comes down on my arm and I draw in a calming breath before turning, my eyes meeting hers.“He’s not like that man.Do you understand?He isnot like him.”

She studies me with an intense inspection and says softly, “If you still say that after what his father just said to you, I believe you mean those words.”

“But you don’t believe they’re true, do you?”

“Alana.”

Damion’s voice hums through me, a song in the middle of the scream that is my emotions right now, a salve that soothes the wounds his father has created.I turn to face him, and in an instant, he’s in front of me, his hand cupping my face, dark eyes searching my eyes.“What did he say to you?”

I swallow hard.“It doesn’t matter.He doesn’t matter.”

Mary steps into view, beside us both.“He told her she’s dirt on your shoe, and you’ll never marry her.Do right by us both, Damion, or I swear to you I’ll finish this life with you undermyshoe.”

Damion’s broad chest rises, stretching the fine silk of his shirt before he replies to what she’s said, but he speaks to me instead.“You are everything to me, Alana, even if you don’t know it yet, but I swear to you, if it’s the last thing I do, you will.”And then he ignores the public place and Mary watching, leaning in, his mouth on my mouth, as he kisses me, a deep, seductive slide of his tongue.He tastes like whiskey and forever, but then hasn’t he always?At least the forever part?

When his mouth parts mine, I’m breathless, my mind drugged by his kiss, but he’s still fully on point, his gaze lifting to Mary’s.“I’ll do right by you.Because doing right by you is doing right by her.”

“I hope you do,” she says.

It’s right then that her car arrives.She gives me a tiny nod and then walks to the driver’s side and climbs inside.A moment later, she is gone, and Damion catches the fingers of one of my hands in his.“Let’s go home.”

Home.

That word choice twists me in knots and pulls tight.He asked me to move in with him, but he also told me the ring on my finger is as fake as his father declared the idea of us marrying.Damion says it’s because he’s not good enough for me.Then why is he good enough for me to live with?

He tugs me to him, his hand settling low and possessive on my back.“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.It’s wrong.”

I wet my dry lips and nod, but I can’t find words.

He kisses my fingers and says, “I’ll make you understand.”

I nod again, though I don’t know what he’s referencing.

Make me understand why he can’t marry me?

Make me understand why that doesn’t matter?

I don’t know if either is possible, but not only do I love him, right now, he needs me.And I need him.

Chapter three

Damionflagsthedoormanas he drapes his arm over my shoulders, and pulls me close, his big powerful body warm and strong against mine as we wait for his car.Tonight he’s driving a silver Porsche Boxster worth two hundred thousand easily.I can’t say the vehicle didn’t impress me when he’d unveiled it tonight, because it did, it does, but that level of luxury where Damion is concerned, doesn’t surprise me.He’s always had money, lots of it, and he’s never hesitated to lean into the style and prestige that comes with it.And by his own admission, no matter how vague, he also leaned into the methods his father utilizes to create that wealth.I’ve heard the stories about his father, the brutal, unethical corporate raider but growing up, he was just Damion’s arrogant, grumpy father.I don’t like to think about Damion being another version of him, but I do believe him when he says he wants to be a better man.But even with his confession and proclamation, in my mind, it’s hard not to think about how I’ve felt used by Damion at times in our lives, especially after his father came at me like he did.

I’ve loved him since we were kids, but I’ve long ago taken off the rose-colored glasses where life, and he, exists.

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