The Rules He Breaks
595 Words
Damian’s hand remained against her throat.
Not tight. Not cruel.
Just enough to remind Isabella how easily he could take control if he wanted to.
And somehow, that frightened her less than the look in his eyes.
Because beneath all the obsession, beneath the danger and darkness, there was something worse.
Need.
Raw and consuming.
The storm outside shook the windows, but neither of them moved. The apartment felt suspended in time, filled with heavy breathing and unspoken things.
“You should go,” Isabella whispered weakly.
Damian gave a quiet laugh.
“You don’t mean that.”
“No,” she admitted before she could stop herself.
His gaze darkened immediately.
Honesty with him felt dangerous.
Like handing a match to gasoline.
He slowly stepped away from her, creating distance with visible effort. The loss of his warmth made the room suddenly feel colder.
“That,” he said quietly, “is exactly why I’m leaving.”
Isabella frowned slightly. “What?”
“You’re starting to trust me.”
Something sharp moved through his expression.
Almost guilt.
“I don’t understand.”
Damian turned away, dragging one hand through his dark hair. For the first time since meeting him, he looked unsettled.
“Men like me don’t get attached to good things,” he murmured. “We ruin them.”
The words lingered heavily between them.
Isabella studied him carefully.
“Who hurt you?”
He went still.
A dangerous stillness.
“You don’t want the answer to that.”
“Maybe I do.”
Slowly, Damian looked back at her.
The darkness in his eyes had changed now. Less hunger.
More memory.
“When I was seventeen,” he said quietly, “I learned that love makes people weak.”
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
“What happened?”
A long silence followed.
Then—
“My father taught me.”
Something cold slid through her at the tone of his voice.
Not fear this time.
Pain.
Real pain.
Damian rarely sounded human when he spoke. He sounded controlled. Calculated. Untouchable.
But now?
Now he sounded tired.
And somehow that was worse.
“He was violent?” she asked softly.
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“He believed fear created loyalty.”
Isabella swallowed hard.
“And did it?”
His smile held no warmth.
“For a while.”
Thunder rolled across the city again.
Damian walked toward the window, staring out into the rain-covered streets below.
“I built my life making sure nobody could ever control me again,” he said quietly. “Then I met you.”
Her pulse quickened.
He looked over his shoulder slowly.
“And suddenly,” he murmured, “I’m thinking about someone other than myself for the first time in years.”
The confession settled deeply inside her chest.
Dangerous men weren’t supposed to sound lonely.
But Damian did.
Terribly lonely.
“You keep acting like you’re trying to protect me from yourself,” she whispered.
“I am.”
“Why?”
His eyes locked onto hers.
“Because if this gets deeper,” he said softly, “I won’t know how to stop.”
Silence stretched between them.
Heavy. Emotional. Too honest.
Then Isabella asked the question she’d been avoiding since the moment she met him.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
Damian stared at her for a long moment before answering.
“Everything you refuse to give anyone else.”
Her breath caught.
Trust. Vulnerability. Love.
The terrifying part was that he already seemed close to taking all of it.
- Writer
