Right before he whispered my name, his voice low and thick with something I couldn’t place, the tension between us exploded into something almost unbearable.
“Elena..”
The sound of it was a promise and a warning all at once, slipping past his lips like a secret meant only for me. Damian didn’t break our connection as he stepped inside, his hand still holding mine tightly. Damian didn’t let go of my hand. Not even for a second. He kept it wrapped in his, warm and steady, guiding me out of the dining room and into the long hallway.
His steps were silent, controlled, but his grip told a different story-tight, tense, like he was holding onto something he was afraid to lose. Or something he was afraid would be taken.
I stayed close to him, not trusting the elevator at the end of the hall,
