Damien hadn’t heard from Isla in thirty-six hours.
Not since she walked out with that look in her eyes… like he’d already lost her. Like no explanation could undo what she’d seen. What he hadn’t said.
He’d tried calling. Texting. Nothing.
Gabriel said she was safe. Said Maggie was with her. That she needed space.
But space was a polite way to describe distance. And this kind of distance felt permanent.
Damien stood in front of the windows of his penthouse, night draping the skyline in steel and smoke. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe right. Every word Isla had thrown at him haunted the silence.
“She wants to own you.”
She wasn’t wrong.
And that was the worst part… he hadn’t fought back when she needed him to. He’d frozen. And now she was gone.
A soft ping broke the air.
A mess
