8
Damian’s POV
She still thinks she can fight me.
I see it in the way she squares her shoulders, her chin tilted high, that sharp defiance flashing in her dark eyes. Like she hasn’t spent the last few weeks falling apart every time I touch her.
Like she hasn’t already given herself to me, over and over again.
I let her pretend.
Because I know the truth. Sienna Laurent is mine. She just doesn’t want to say it yet.
So I’ll make her.
She’s pacing the length of her penthouse, her heels clicking against the marble, every movement sharp and bristling.
“I think I’ve let this go on long enough,” she announces, like she’s delivering some executive order. Like she has control over this.
I watch her, arms crossed, silent.
She turns to face me, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll adm
