TRAPPED BY LOVE

THE KISS

Chapter 21

Days went by quickly, with Elena sticking to her normal routine, from her apartment to the bookstore and from the bookstore back to her apartment.

Today, morning sunlight streamed through Elena’s curtains, far too bright for her sleepless night. She dragged herself out of bed, went through the motions—shower, coffee, hair pulled into a loose braid, and off she went to work.

‎At the bookstore, she smiled at customers and rang up purchases, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Every sound behind her made her tense. Every stranger’s glance felt weighted and suspicious. It had been like that since she met Damien. She caught herself checking the door every few minutes, half-expecting to see Damian’s black car or, worse, the shadow of someone she didn’t recognize.

‎When the bell above the door chimed in the late afternoon, she almost dropped the stack of books in her hands. Relief and dread tangled inside her when she saw him step inside. Damian. Dark suit. Composed as always. But his eyes—sharp, watchful—scanned the room as though measuring every threat before they landed on her.

‎“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered as he approached, though her chest loosened just slightly with the sight of him.

‎His gaze softened only for her. “And yet I am.”

‎---

‎That evening, after closing the book shop, he insisted on driving her home. She resisted at first, but exhaustion won over stubbornness. The streets were quiet, and his presence beside her in the car was protective and infuriatingly comforting.

‎“Don’t you think you should try keep a distance,” she muttered as they turned onto her block. “If more of your enemies saw you with me—”

‎“Elena.” His voice cut through her words, low and certain. “They already know.”

‎She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

‎He met her gaze, unflinching. “The ones who left you that note. The ones watching your window. They know you matter to me. Pretending otherwise won’t protect you.”

‎Her breath hitched, “so he knew all that had been happening.” The reality slammed into her like ice water. He didn’t flinch away from the truth. He laid it bare and raw, and somehow, that honesty steadied her more than any lie of safety could.

‎“I hate you,” she whispered, though her voice shook. “I hate that you’ve done this to me.”

‎“I know.” His tone was almost tender. “Hate me all you want, Elena. Just don’t walk away.”

‎For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid. The car rolled to a stop in front of her apartment, its headlights slicing across the cracked pavement before going dark. Inside the vehicle, silence pressed against Elena like a weight. She pressed her palms against her lap, willing them to stay still, but they trembled anyway.

‎The air was thick and suffocating, with everything neither of them dared to speak. The kiss that had almost happened days ago still clung to her lips like a ghost. She had replayed it in her mind countless times, wondering if he would push past restraint the next time they were this close. Now, sitting in the hush of the night with Damian only inches away, she wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to or not.

‎When the engine cut off, she reached for the door handle, her fingers curling around the cool metal. But she couldn’t make herself pull it. Some invisible thread kept her tethered to the seat. To him.

‎“Do you want me to walk you up?” Damian’s voice broke the silence. Low, even, but carrying the kind of intensity that made her pulse stutter.

‎Elena swallowed. Her throat was desert-dry. “No.” She forced the word out, though her voice wavered. “If you come upstairs… You won’t leave.”

‎The corner of his mouth tilted in the faintest suggestion of a smirk. Not arrogant but knowing. “Is that a warning?” His eyes slid to hers, dark and unflinching. “Or an invitation?”

‎Her breath hitched, heat sparking through her veins. “I don’t even know anymore.”

‎The admission hung between them, raw and unguarded. Damian shifted slightly, closing the distance just enough that she could feel his presence envelop her. Not touching her, but close enough that the air felt charged, alive with possibility and ruin.

‎“You don’t have to know,” he murmured. His gaze dipped to her lips, then back up again, like a predator waiting for permission to strike. “Just feel it.”

‎Something inside her cracked. All the walls she had built, all the careful caution she had tried to cling to—they crumbled in an instant. When he leaned in, she didn’t resist.

‎Their lips met, not tentative this time, but fierce. Consuming. The kiss tore the breath from her lungs, left her dizzy and undone. His mouth moved against hers with a hunger that matched her own, as though they had both been waiting, suffering, needing this release.

‎Elena’s hands, traitorous and trembling, reached for him, curling against the solid heat of his chest. His heart thudded beneath her palm, strong and relentless, and the rhythm vibrated through her fingertips. Damian’s hand slid up, cupping her jaw with surprising gentleness even as his kiss deepened, claiming, devouring.

‎The world outside the car ceased to exist. There was no night, no street, no lingering shadows. Only him—the taste of him, the weight of him, the fire that threatened to consume her from the inside out.

‎When at last they broke apart, Elena gasped for air, her chest heaving. Damian didn’t move his hand from her face. His thumb brushed her cheek in a slow, deliberate stroke, the softness of the gesture at odds with the ferocity of what had just happened.

‎“You’re mine, Elena,” he whispered, the words more dangerous than the kiss itself.

‎Her heart thundered louder than the quiet hum of the city outside. She should have been afraid. She should have shoved him away, scrambled out of the car, run upstairs, locked every door and window. But instead, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she let the storm rage through her.

‎For a moment, silence reigned again—different this time, not empty but full, like the air after lightning has struck.

‎Elena finally forced herself to pull back, though her skin burned where he had touched her. She fumbled for the door handle, this time managing to open it. The cold air of the night rushed in, shocking her overheated skin.

‎Her knees felt weak as she climbed out of the car, her breaths uneven. She didn’t look back, didn’t dare, but she felt Damian’s gaze following her every step up the narrow stairway to her apartment. It was like a tether she couldn’t cut, invisible but unbreakable.

‎