Choosing My Ex Mate's Father

Chapter 3.

Kiera's P.O.V.

One week later...

The city feels different now—sharper, more alive. I’ve learned to read the pulse of the streets, to listen to the subtle shifts in the air that tell me when someone is watching or when a deal is about to go down. Damian has taught me more in the past week than I ever thought possible. His lessons are brutal, direct, and often leave me questioning everything I thought I knew about power and control. But through it all, something inside me has clicked. I’ve stopped running from the shadows and started embracing them.

Damian’s presence has become a constant, looming over my every move. I can feel him behind me, beside me, in the silence between us. He watches with a keen eye, always assessing, always waiting for me to make my next move. At first, I thought it was because he didn’t trust me, but now I know it’s because he’s waiting for me to trust myself.

I’ve learned the art of manipulation from him, how to move through this world with a kind of quiet confidence that makes others fall in line without them even realizing it. There’s no need to force things, he says. If you’re good enough, the world will bend to you. It’s a lesson I’ve come to understand all too well.

But even as I learn, the unease lingers, gnawing at the back of my mind. Every time Damian speaks, every time his eyes meet mine, there’s an unspoken promise. It’s not about revenge anymore. It’s about something bigger, something more dangerous.

As we’re back in the warehouse, just like last time, but tonight feels different.

The air between us is thick, charged with something I can’t quite name. Damian’s been giving me another one of his lessons, walking me through the plan for the next phase, but my focus is drifting. I can’t seem to concentrate on anything except the way his presence fills the room, the way his gaze lingers on me just a little too long.

I tell myself it’s nothing. I’m here to learn, not to dwell on the way his eyes burn through me like he can see right into the depths of my soul. But the tension is palpable, buzzing in the air, thick enough to make it hard to breathe.

Damian stops pacing, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. “You’re distracted tonight,” he says, his voice low, like a challenge.

I blink, pulling myself back to the present. “I’m fine,” I say, though the words feel hollow even to me.

His lips curl into a small smile, and I don’t know whether to find it comforting or unsettling. “Are you sure? Because it’s not just your mind that’s elsewhere.” His gaze drops to where my fingers have been lightly tapping against the edge of the table, the rhythm betraying the unease in my chest.

I swallow, feeling a warmth creep into my cheeks. “I’m not—” I start, but the words fade away when he takes a step closer.

Suddenly, he’s right there. Close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off of him, close enough that I can smell the faint scent of his cologne, sharp and intoxicating. I try to step back, but something in his gaze stops me.

Damian’s eyes darken, his expression unreadable. “It’s not enough to just know power, Kiera,” he murmurs, his voice soft, yet thick with something more. “You have to feel it, too.”

I inhale sharply, the air between us charged. He’s so close now, I can hear the faintest edge of a heartbeat. I want to pull away, tell him this is a mistake, but my body betrays me, holding me in place. My pulse races, and I feel the pull between us, undeniable and raw.

I should move. I should turn away. But I can’t. Not when everything in me is screaming to stay. The world around us fades, leaving only the two of us, caught in a moment that feels both inevitable and dangerous.

Damian’s hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch light, but it sends a ripple through me. “You’ve been so focused on surviving, Kiera,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “But sometimes... surviving isn’t enough.”

I feel the air between us crackle, like a storm about to break. His eyes flicker to my lips, and for a split second, time slows. Everything inside me is on fire. There’s no hesitation, no doubt. Only a deep, inexplicable need that pulls me toward him, draws me in with a force that feels beyond my control.

Without thinking, without planning it, I step forward, closing the distance between us, and then I’m kissing him.

It’s unexpected, sudden, but it’s undeniable. His lips are warm, hard against mine, and for a moment, I forget everything—everything but him. The taste of him, the sharpness of his breath, the way his hands find their way to my waist, pulling me closer.

I can feel the weight of his body, the intensity of the moment, and I know, deep down, that I’m not just kissing Damian. I’m kissing everything he represents—the power, the control, the danger.

He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t hesitate. He deepens the kiss, his hand moving to the back of my neck, holding me in place as if he’s marking me, claiming me. My thoughts blur, and the only thing I can focus on is the feel of him—of us—in this moment.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. My chest rises and falls rapidly, my heart still pounding in my ears. Damian doesn’t say anything. He just watches me, his expression unreadable.

I should be angry, confused, but instead, I feel something else—something intense, something that has been building between us since the moment we met. A connection I can’t ignore, no matter how hard I try.

“Are you ready to stop pretending, Kiera?” he asks quietly, his voice almost a growl.

I don’t answer right away. I don’t need to. Because deep down, I know the truth.

I’m already lost.

I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t make sense of what just happened. Damian’s presence still lingers on my skin, and the warmth of his touch is seared into me, branding me in a way I can’t escape. My heart is still racing, my pulse still wild, and all I can do is stare at him, wide-eyed, as if expecting him to say something to pull me back to reality.

But Damian doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. The air between us is thick with the weight of what just passed—what we both just gave into.

His eyes are dark, like a storm on the horizon, intense and dangerous. There’s no amusement in his gaze, no mockery. Just raw hunger, simmering beneath the surface. His breath is slow, controlled, but I can see it in the slight clench of his jaw, in the tightening of his grip on my waist. He’s trying to contain whatever this is between us. But I can feel it, building again, thick and inevitable.

Without a word, he steps forward, closing the gap between us again, but this time, it’s deliberate. It’s slower. He takes his time, letting the tension build, drawing it out until I’m trembling with anticipation. His hand comes to my face, cupping my jaw as he angles my head just so. His thumb brushes across my lower lip, the same lips that just kissed him, the same lips that can’t seem to stop wanting more.

I shiver under his touch, and his gaze flickers to my neck, to the rapid pulse throbbing beneath the skin. “You’re so eager,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. “Did you think this was just a kiss, Kiera?”

His words send a wave of heat rushing through me, pooling low in my belly. It’s too much, too fast, but I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it.

Damian steps closer, his body nearly flush with mine now. I can feel the hard planes of his chest, the heat of him pressing against me, and I ache for more. My fingers dig into his shirt, gripping him tightly as though holding onto the last bit of sanity I have left.

“You wanted power, Kiera,” he says, his voice thick with a promise I can’t fully comprehend. “But power isn’t just something you take. It’s something you feel.” His lips brush against my ear, his breath warm and sending another shiver through me. “It’s something you allow.”

I’m dizzy with his words, with the proximity of him, with the way his hands are moving over me. One slides to my back, pulling me impossibly closer, the other to the back of my neck, tilting my head to give him better access. I feel the electric current between us, thrumming like a live wire, sparking everywhere his fingers touch.

“Are you ready to stop pretending?” Damian asks again, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “To stop pretending this isn’t what you want?”

I don’t know what to say, don’t know how to answer. Part of me wants to scream that this is a mistake, that I shouldn’t be doing this. But the other part, the part that’s been yearning for this, for him, for power like this... she’s silent now, swallowed up by the heat, by the pull of everything he represents.

He presses his lips against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make my breath catch in my throat. “Tell me, Kiera,” he breathes, his voice so close that I can feel the vibration of it in my bones. “Tell me you want this, want me. Or I’ll stop.”

I gasp, feeling the cool air flood the space where his lips had been. For a moment, I don’t know what to say. But the truth crashes through me, undeniable, scorching.

“I want this,” I say, barely above a whisper. “I want you.”

Damian smiles then, a dark, satisfied curve of his lips that sends a thrill through me. “Good.” He pulls me into him again, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that consumes us both. This kiss is different. It’s not soft or tentative. It’s brutal, raw, and desperate, a claim of dominance, of power, of something neither of us can name yet.

I lose myselfin it. In him. In the way his hands roam, in the way he holds me like I'm the only thing that matters, like I'm the only thing he's ever wanted.

I don't know where I end and where he begins anymore. But even that feels right.

Damian pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes, his gaze dark and intense.

"You're only getting started, Kierra. There's so much more. So much more for you to feel."

I nod and blush, my chest heaving, my body still humming with the heat of him.

And for the first time since my return, I don't feel lost. I don't feel like I'm running anymore. I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.