Chapter 4
1496 Words
What It Cost Her
Damian took the glass from her. His hand still trembled a little. The water slid down his throat and brought no peace. His chest felt tight, and the storm inside him only grew worse. His eyes were red, heavy with all the things he had drunk and all the things he had felt.
Matilda sat across from him with her legs crossed, her posture relaxed. Too relaxed. She looked at him in a way that made his gut twist. Her face gave nothing away, but it was calm in the kind of way that screamed something was coming.
Damian set the empty glass down on the bedside table. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His head still felt heavy like it was filled with smoke. He glanced at Matilda again, trying to read her expression. His shoulders dropped slightly. His right leg bounced under the sheets like it was trying to shake off the guilt clinging to his skin.
“You said you have a plan,” he said, his voice cracked and dry. “What kind of plan?”
Matilda didn’t answer immediately. She stood and walked to the window. She pulled back the curtain just enough to peek at the light outside.
She let it fall again and turned to face him, arms folded across her chest. Her eyes were sharp. Steady.
“She’s not with her mother. And she didn’t go back to her apartment either. I checked.”
She leaned on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs, smiling like she had already won something.
“Her phone was off, yeah. But not before she left the hotel. I tracked the last known location. You won’t believe it.”
Damian’s jaw tensed. A throb started behind his eyes.
“She walked into a club,” Matilda continued. “Just two blocks away. Club Mano. One of those high-end places with too much liquor and too many secrets. Guess who owns it?”
Damian looked at her, his face blank but his chest heavy.
Matilda’s voice dropped.
“Luther Romano.”
Damian blinked. “The mafia guy?”
She nodded.
“And she was still there this morning. I had someone stationed outside. Paid him myself. He’s even got a room booked there just to keep watch.”
Damian rubbed his temple with his knuckles. The pressure in his head grew worse. He dropped his hand to his lap and stared at the floor.
“Why are you tracking her?”
Matilda’s smile thinned. Her voice dropped.
“Because you still want that bet. Don’t you?”
He didn’t reply. Just looked at her, like he was seeing too many versions of her at once. His fingers curled into a loose fist on his lap.
“She ran off after last night,” Matilda said. “But girls like her don’t just disappear. Not unless someone helps them disappear.”
She stood up and stepped closer. Her presence pressed on him like smoke in a closed room.
“We won’t hurt her,” she said. “We’ll just take her. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere no one knows. No phones. No way to run.”
Damian turned his face to the side. “You want to kidnap her.”
“I want to fix this,” Matilda replied. “You want to win. You want to prove you can still get her back.”
Damian sat in silence. His jaw clenched tight. He didn’t know if he was angry or afraid of how easy her words made it all sound.
Matilda’s tone grew lower. “Let me handle it. You don’t have to lift a finger. Just show up when it’s time.”
He ran both hands down his face, then held them over his eyes for a moment. His breath was shallow. His heart ached.
“This wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he whispered. “I never wanted to trap her.”
Matilda tilted her head, her voice smooth.
“But you did. You made the bet. You played the game. You just didn’t expect her to matter.”
He looked at her, eyes tired and broken. “I didn’t think she’d mean anything.”
She didn’t blink. “Then finish it. One more move. It’s all it takes.”
Damian groaned as he tried to shift up in bed. His knuckles burned from the cuts. The pain flared with each breath.
“I’m not even in shape to walk down the hall,” he muttered. “You expect me to go drag Olivia out of some club?”
Matilda turned to the window again.
“I didn’t say today. You’ll rest. Get your strength back. Two days or maybe three. I’ll get everything ready.”
Damian didn’t speak.
“And when the time comes,” she added, voice low, “you’ll do what needs to be done.”
---
Later that morning
Olivia stirred. Her body was sore, her arms heavy. Her head pounded. She blinked up at the ceiling, cold sheets tangled around her legs. It took a second before she realized where she was.
Her stomach twisted.
She sat up fast, pulling the robe tightly around her. Her eyes darted across the unfamiliar room. And then she saw him.
Luther was standing, quiet. Watching her. His arms were at his sides. His face was unreadable.
The memories came back in splinters. The alcohol. The crying. The bar. The man with the filthy mouth. Then the VIP suite. And Luther.
Her voice came out dry.
“What happened?” She swallowed hard. “Did we…?”
Her throat closed up.
“No. No. Tell me this didn’t happen.”
Luther didn’t speak right away. He looked away. His face tightened.
“You were drunk. But you asked me to stay. You said you didn’t want to be alone. You told me... you wanted to feel beautiful.”
“And you still did it?” Olivia’s voice rose, her heart pounding. “I was broken. I was drunk. I didn’t even know what I was saying. That was my first time. Do you know what you’ve done?”
Luther swallowed hard. His jaw moved like he was holding something back. His hand rubbed the back of his neck.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. I tried to leave. But you wouldn’t let me.”
“Don’t you dare put that on me,” she snapped. “You’re older, stronger and you were completely sober. You should have known better. I was not in my right mind.”
Luther’s mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but nothing came.
“You ruined me,” Olivia said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You've made me feel worthless. Like a thing.”
“I didn’t force you,” he said quietly.
She shook her head. “I didn’t need to be forced. I needed to be protected. And you failed me.”
The words hit him hard. He turned away, dragging a hand down his face. His voice changed. Cold. Tight.
“That’s enough.”
Olivia flinched.
“I said that’s enough,” he repeated, louder now. “You think I forced you? You cried for it. You begged me. Don’t sit there pretending like you were innocent in all of this.”
Her eyes widened.
“You disgusting pig.”
Luther pulled out his wallet. He pulled a few hundred-dollar bills and flung them at her.
“There,” he said. “For the night.”
The money landed on her chest.
“You wanted to feel beautiful,” he muttered. “Now you have a price.”
Olivia gasped, like he had punched her.
“You are a monster.”
“And you?” he shot back. “You came crawling to forget someone else. What do you call that?”
She couldn’t speak. Her throat locked up.
“Get out of my place,” he said. “Now.”
He turned and left the room.
Olivia sat still for a moment. Shaking. Her entire body felt hollow. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She dragged herself out of bed, slowly putting on her cold, damp clothes. Her fingers trembled as she wore them.
She opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
As she walked toward the exit of Club Mano, something knocked against her foot. She looked down.
There it was.
Her engagement ring.
It lay in the middle of the marble floor, still gleaming. Like it hadn’t seen everything she had just gone through.
Olivia bent down. Picked it up slowly.
She stared at it. Her eyes wet again. Her fingers clenched tight around it like she wanted to crush it into dust.
But she didn’t.
She just held it in her fist and walked out the door.
And she never looked back.
But someone else was already watching her from across the street, waiting.
- Writer
