The silence inside the car was suffocating.
Not awkward.
Not empty.
Dangerous.
Rain lashed against the tinted windows as Damien’s driver maneuvered through the glittering midnight streets of the city. Beside me, Damien sat with one arm stretched lazily across the backseat behind me, his expression unreadable.
But I could still feel the aftermath of that kiss.
My lips tingled.
My heartbeat hadn’t recovered.
And across the dining hall, every powerful person in that room had watched Damien Voss kiss me like I truly belonged to him.
Not Elena.
Me.
“You embarrassed Vanessa tonight,” Damien said finally, breaking the silence.
I blinked. “I did?”
A quiet scoff left him. “You exist. That was enough.”
I frowned slightly. “Who is she to you?”
His gaze shifted toward me slowly, as though measuring the question itself.
“An old mistake.”
Something sharp and unpleasant twisted unexpectedly in my chest.
I looked away before he could notice.
Unfortunately, Damien noticed everything.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, little wife.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You’re clenching your jaw.”
Heat rushed to my face. “Maybe I just don’t like being publicly interrogated by your ex-lover.”
One dark eyebrow lifted.
“Ex-fiancée,” he corrected calmly.
My stomach dropped.
Fiancée.
Of course someone like Damien had almost been married before.
For some reason, the thought bothered me far more than it should have.
“She wanted power,” he continued coolly. “I wanted convenience. It would have worked temporarily.”
“Romantic.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
The honesty in his tone caught me off guard.
Before I could respond, the car stopped smoothly beneath the private entrance of Voss Tower.
The moment we stepped into the elevator, Damien’s entire demeanor shifted.
The controlled businessman vanished.
What remained was something darker.
More intense.
The elevator doors closed softly behind us.
And suddenly, we were alone.
Completely alone.
My pulse immediately sped up.
Damien loosened the cuffs of his shirt slowly, his storm-gray eyes fixed on me the entire time.
“You did well tonight,” he said quietly.
“I almost had a panic attack.”
“But you didn’t break.”
The compliment settled strangely warm in my chest.
The elevator continued rising in silence.
Then Damien moved.
Without warning, he stepped into my space, backing me gently against the mirrored wall. A startled breath escaped me.
“D-Damien—”
“You looked at me differently tonight.”
His voice was low.
Dangerously observant.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.”
His hand settled beside my head against the mirror, trapping me effortlessly. The heat of his body surrounded me instantly.
“You stopped looking at me like a monster.”
My breath caught.
Because he was right.
And that terrified me most of all.
Damien studied my face carefully, as if searching for something hidden beneath my skin.
“You should,” he murmured softly. “It’s safer for you that way.”
The elevator doors opened.
But neither of us moved immediately.
The tension between us had become something alive.
Finally, Damien stepped back first.
“Go to bed, Isabella.”
The command sounded strained.
Controlled too tightly.
And somehow that affected me even more.
---
I couldn’t sleep.
Rain hammered against the penthouse windows while lightning flashed across the skyline in silver streaks. The massive bed felt too large despite Damien’s warmth beside me.
Because tonight, for the first time, I had started wondering dangerous things.
Who was Damien when he wasn’t performing for the world?
Why did he look at me like I was something he’d been starving for?
And why did the thought of him touching another woman suddenly make my chest hurt?
I stared into the darkness, frustrated with myself.
This was insanity.
I barely knew him.
He was controlling, possessive, arrogant, emotionally impossible—
“Your breathing changes when you overthink.”
I jumped slightly.
Beside me, Damien’s eyes opened lazily in the darkness.
“You weren’t asleep?”
“I was.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
A faint smirk touched his mouth. “It does for me.”
I rolled onto my back with a sigh. “Sorry for waking you.”
“You didn’t.”
Lightning flashed again, illuminating the sharp angles of his face briefly.
“Come here,” he said quietly.
My stomach flipped instantly.
“What?”
“You’re spiraling inside your own head again.”
Before I could protest, Damien pulled me against his chest with one strong arm. I let out a surprised breath as warmth surrounded me completely.
“Damien—”
“Sleep.”
Easy for him to say when my heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest.
But then his fingers slid slowly into my hair.
Gentle.
Careful.
The soothing motion shocked me into silence.
No one had touched me like this before.
Not wanting something.
Not demanding something.
Just… calming me.
The realization made my throat tighten unexpectedly.
“You’re confused,” Damien murmured into the darkness.
I stayed quiet.
“That’s normal.”
“You act like you understand everything.”
“I understand people.”
I tilted my head slightly to look up at him. “And what exactly do you think you understand about me?”
His eyes met mine immediately.
“That no one’s ever chosen you first.”
The words hit so hard it physically hurt.
My chest tightened violently.
Because beneath every layer of fear and confusion and attraction—
that was the wound.
Elena had always come first.
My aunt’s approval.
The family reputation.
Everyone else’s needs.
I had spent my life being useful instead of wanted.
Damien’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly as he watched realization spread across my face.
“See?” he said quietly. “I notice things.”
Emotion burned behind my eyes too quickly.
I turned away instinctively, embarrassed.
But Damien caught my chin gently before I could hide.
“You don’t have to do that with me.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you’re not hurting.”
The tenderness in his voice nearly destroyed me.
Because it sounded real.
And I didn’t know what to do with real.
A shaky breath escaped me before I could stop it.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Damien’s thumb brushed lightly beneath my eye.
“You know what the dangerous part is?” he murmured.
My pulse stumbled. “What?”
“I meant what I said at dinner.”
The air shifted instantly.
“You’re my wife now.” His voice lowered further. “And I’m starting to enjoy that far too much.”
Heat spread slowly through my stomach.
His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth.
Then back to my eyes.
The tension became unbearable.
“Kiss me,” I whispered before fear could stop me.
Something dark flashed across Damien’s face.
Not victory.
Not amusement.
Hunger.
Pure, devastating hunger.
He kissed me like a man losing control for the first time in years.
Deep.
Slow.
Possessive.
My fingers tangled instinctively into his hair as he rolled over me carefully, bracing himself with one arm beside my head. The weight of him, the heat of him, the restrained strength in every movement made my entire body ache.
Damien kissed like he did everything else—
thoroughly.
Like he intended to consume every reaction I gave him.
A soft sound escaped my throat when his hand slid down my waist.
Immediately, he froze.
The sudden restraint shocked me.
His forehead rested briefly against mine as both our breathing turned uneven.
“Damien…”
His jaw clenched hard.
“If I keep touching you right now,” he said roughly, “I’m not stopping.”
A dangerous shiver moved through me.
Part fear.
Part anticipation.
Part something much worse.
Because the terrifying truth was—
I didn’t think I wanted him to stop.
His eyes searched mine carefully, giving me a chance to pull away.
I didn’t.
The realization seemed to affect him deeply.
A low curse left his mouth.
Then he buried his face briefly against my neck like he was fighting himself.
“You’re going to ruin me, Isabella.”
The raw honesty in his voice stunned me speechless.
This wasn’t just obsession anymore.
This was becoming something deeper.
Something neither of us knew how to control.
And somewhere in the middle of the storm raging outside the penthouse windows, wrapped in Damien Voss’s arms while thunder shook the sky—
I realized I was already falling for my husband.