The room felt way too quiet. I was perched on the velvet chaise in Damian's study, watching the fireplace cast flickering golden shadows on the wood-paneled walls.
A glass of untouched wine trembled slightly in my hand. I hadn't seen Damian in hours, not since our confrontation earlier that day when I pressed him about my father again.
He didn't answer. Just smiled.
And then, like always, he vanished, leaving me to stew in this gilded prison.
My fingers tightened around the glass.
I came here seeking revenge, but now it's hard to tell what's truth and what's manipulation. One moment, Damian is as cold as ice. The next, he's like a fire pinning me against the wall, whispering promises I can't trust and touching me like he's trying to claim me.
Then I heard a soft click at the door. He was back.
I jumped up, straightening myself. He walked in, no tie, his shirt half-buttoned, dark hair tousled as if he'd just come back from something dangerous and bloody.
"You've been brooding?" he asked, his voice lazy but with an edge to it.
I didn't answer; I was afraid my words would betray the rage bubbling inside me.
He closed the door behind him and approached me like a lion stalking its prey.
"You're angry," he continued, unfazed. "Because I didn't tell you what you wanted to hear this morning."
I raised my chin. *You didn't tell me anything at all.
He chuckled, slow and deliberate. "Your questions are loaded. You're not looking for the truth; you're looking to trap me."
My breath caught. And why would you care if you've done nothing wrong?*
That finally gave him pause. A charged silence hung in the air.
He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. "Careful, Claire. I didn't drag you into this world to play games. I brought you here to survive it."
*Survive what?* I snapped back. *You? Or the ghosts you refuse to name?*
His eyes darkened, and then he reached into his jacket, pulling out a file, a slim black envelope and tossed it onto the table beside me.
"That's your father's ledger. The original, with his codes, his movements, and even his arrangements with me. You wanted the truth? There it is."
My heart stopped.
I stared at the evidence, half-expecting it to bite me. My fingers moved towards it slowly, filled with dread. This was what I'd been chasing the answers, the evidence.
And yet…
You're just giving this to me? Just like that?
"No, I'm letting you see it. There's a difference."
My mouth went dry.
Because that was who he was, Damian Cross, the master of giving just enough rope to keep me tethered.
Why? Why now?
He said nothing, just held my gaze.
With trembling hands, I opened the envelope.
The ledger was old, edges frayed, ink faded. I recognized my father's handwriting,his careful notations, codes I hadn't seen in years. As I flipped through the pages, my eyes scanned names, dates, and locations.
Then my breath hitched.
There it was. A line circled in red ink: D.M. Transfer complete. Claire collateral.
I looked at him, stunned. *He used me as part of a deal with you.
"He wanted protection for you, and he offered you as the reason."
No, he wouldn't.
"He did," Damian said, his voice softening. "He trusted me to keep you safe, and I did."
But you didn't tell me.
"I will never lie to you, Claire." His hands tightened around mine. "I just haven't told you everything yet."
All this time, I thought I was chasing vengeance for my father. But he had sold me, traded me like a pawn, while Damian held the truth like a sharp knife behind my back.
You could've let me believe he was a hero.
"I could've, but you would've never belonged to me completely."
Is that all this is for you? Ownership? A game of power?*
He stepped closer again, no smirk this time, no cold distance. His voice was low and honest.
"Yes and no," he replied. "I want to own you, Claire. Not because you're weak, but because you're the only thing in this world I can't control. And I need you to choose me anyway."
My throat tightened. He didn't kiss me.
He just turned and walked away, leaving me there with the file and the truth I thought I wanted until it hurt.