Beneath His Vows

The Sting

Damian’s POV

The house was never silent for long. Silence was supposed to mean peace. But tonight, it felt heavy.

Clara lounged on the velvet sofa, a glass of wine between her fingers. Her smile was beautiful in the way fire was beautiful—bright, dangerous, impossible to ignore.

“You didn’t mention her,” Clara said casually, swirling the glass. “The new maid.” Her tone was light, but the gleam in her eyes wasn’t.

Damian adjusted his cufflinks. “Elise handles staff.”

Clara tilted her head, the diamonds at her ears catching the light. “Mmm. Still… she’s hard to miss. Sweet little thing, with those wide eyes. Doesn’t really fit here, does she?”

He didn’t answer. But Clara’s words hung between them like smoke.

She leaned closer, voice lowering. “Tell me, Damian… do you notice her?”

His eyes snapped to hers, sharp and unreadable. “I notice order. And I expect you not to interfere with it.”

Clara’s smile faltered, but only for a second. She covered it with a sip of wine, her perfume clinging to the air. Damian turned away, but in the back of his mind, an image slipped through—the quiet maid standing by the window, her gaze lifted to the stars.

Selene Hart.

He hated that he’d noticed. He hated it more that he couldn’t stop.

---

Selene’s POV

Rosa was still humming when Selene walked into the drawing room with her, but the hum died the second Clara looked up.

Clara Hensley. Perfect. Untouchable. The kind of woman Selene had only ever seen in magazines.

Her gaze swept over Selene in a single glance, sharp enough to cut.

“So this is the new help,” Clara said smoothly, her smile curving like a blade. “You’re younger than I expected. Tell me, do you know how to manage a house this size? Or will you just… learn as you go?”

Heat rushed up Selene’s cheeks. “I… I’ll learn, ma’am.”

“Hmm.” Clara set her glass down with a soft clink. “Well. Try not to break anything. Everything here costs more than your paycheck.”

Rosa bristled beside her, but Selene only nodded, her throat tight.

And then—Damian walked in.

The air shifted instantly. His presence filled the room, commanding without effort. His eyes flicked to Selene briefly, then to Clara, and for a moment it felt like the entire house held its breath.

“Clara,” he said coolly. “Don’t trouble the staff.”

Clara’s smile returned, softer this time. “Oh, darling, I was only making conversation.”

But Selene felt it. The sting. The reminder of where she stood.

Her hands twisted in front of her as Damian’s gaze brushed hers again. His expression was hard, unreadable, but for the briefest second, there was something else there—a trace of heat, a flicker of something she couldn’t name.

Enough to make her chest tighten. Enough to leave her wondering.