The First Crack
569 Words
Damian’s hand lingered against her jaw.
Warm. Steady.
Dangerous.
Isabella should have pushed him away.
Instead, she stood frozen beneath his touch, caught between fear and something far more reckless.
His thumb brushed lightly across her cheek.
The gesture was almost gentle.
That terrified her most.
Men like Damian Moretti weren’t gentle.
They destroyed things carefully.
“You keep looking at me like you’re trying to figure out whether I’m a monster,” he murmured.
Her throat tightened. “Are you?”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“Yes.”
The honesty hit harder than denial would have.
Outside, thunder rolled through the city, but inside the apartment the silence between them felt louder.
Damian’s gaze drifted slowly over her face.
“You should tell me to leave.”
“I should.”
“But you won’t.”
His confidence ignited irritation inside her chest.
“You think you know everything.”
“No.” His eyes darkened slightly. “Only you.”
The words landed too deeply.
Before she could respond, Damian suddenly stepped back.
The loss of his touch felt immediate.
Wrong.
Isabella hated herself for noticing.
He loosened the cuffs of his black shirt casually, though nothing about him ever truly looked relaxed.
“You’re exhausted,” he said.
“What?”
“You haven’t slept properly in weeks.”
She blinked at him.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“The shadows under your eyes.” His gaze sharpened. “And because anxious people always move their hands when they’re tired.”
Without realizing it, Isabella had been twisting the ring on her finger.
She stopped immediately.
Damian noticed that too.
“Who gave you the ring?”
Her stomach tightened.
“That’s none of your business.”
“An ex?”
“No.”
A pause.
Then quieter—
“My mother.”
Something shifted in his expression.
Not softness exactly.
But attention.
“She died?” he asked.
Isabella looked away.
“When I was sixteen.”
The room fell silent.
She rarely talked about her mother. Rarely let herself think about the hospital smell, the machines, the unbearable stillness afterward.
But somehow Damian pulled truths out of her without effort.
“Cancer?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes lifted in surprise.
“How did you—”
“You carry grief like guilt.”
The answer sent chills through her.
Because it was true.
After all these years, it was still true.
Damian stepped closer again, though slower this time.
Less predator.
More something she couldn’t name.
“When people leave you enough times,” he murmured, “you start expecting abandonment from everyone.”
Emotion tightened painfully in her chest.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His dark eyes held hers steadily.
“I know exactly what it feels like.”
For the first time since meeting him, she saw something beneath the control.
Pain.
Deep. Buried. Violent pain.
It vanished almost immediately.
But she saw it.
And suddenly Damian Moretti became even more dangerous.
Because broken people recognized each other.
“You hide yourself well,” she whispered.
“I learned early.”
A long silence stretched between them.
Then—
“Tell me something honest,” Damian said softly.
Isabella swallowed hard. “About what?”
“About me.”
Her pulse quickened.
He stepped closer until she could feel the heat radi
- Writer
