LOVE IN CROSSFIRE

A CHOICE

Seeing Damian was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt like I never wanted to see him again in my life. Especially not tonight.

But Nolan’s words wouldn’t stop replaying in my head. “He’s waiting in that cubicle in case you want to speak to him yourself.”

But why the hell was Nolan acting like this? Nolan, Cal, Michael — they all went south on me.

I asked myself several questions. What the hell did Damian want this time? Another night? Another body to feed his ego? Another morning to leave this lady on the bed and pay her a day later? Or maybe, this time, a week later. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to storm out of Coldstone. Yet my legs betrayed me. And my mind reminded me of the sight of Corey I'm the hospital. I didn't have a choice.

Every step toward the private cubicle felt like walking into my own doom. The club lights dimmed behind me, the music faded, and all I could hear was my heartbeat — wild, uncertain, angry.

When I pushed the curtain aside, Damian was seated there. Funny enough, some sluts were all over him.

He sat with a half-filled glass of red wine, his jacket off and the top buttons of his shirt loose. His golden eyes lifted slowly, finding mine. The look in them — steady, unreadable, magnetic — froze me. He lifted his glass, and the bouncers standing behind him signalled the ladies to step out.

“Aurora,” he said, his voice smooth like a promise and dangerous like sin. “You came.”

I scoffed. “Yes, I did.”

“Oh!”

“I came to tell you to stop this madness,” I said, my voice trembling even though I tried to sound firm. “You can’t own me.”

He chuckled lightly, swirling his wine. “Own you? No baby, I don’t want to own you. I want to understand you.”

My lips twisted in disbelief. “What the f**k, Damian? Understand me? You don’t even know me.”

“Then let me,” he said, setting the glass aside. “Tell me why a law student sells her soul at night, and still has eyes that shine like she’s saving the world.”

His words hit deep. It felt like mockery at first, but then I realized that maybe he wasn't mocking me, he was peeling me open.

“How do you even know that I'm a law student? Are you f*cking following me around?”

He smiled darkly, “Following you around? Nah. I wish I could though. But, Querida, I've got eyes and ears around.”

I knew I'd heard those words before, from somewhere, but I didn't want to think about that.

“Why are you wasting your soul? Let me understand you, Rora.” He said softly.

I tried to laugh it off. “You think you can just pay me, then psychoanalyze me?”

He stood up, and the space between us dissolved. His scent — dark, expensive, addictive — filled the air. “You think money is why I called you back?”

I stepped back, confused, my voice sharp. “Then why?”

“Because you left before I was done with you.”

His words hit hard like lightning. I tried to understand, but couldn't. I swallowed hard. “You paid me for the night I spent with you. Those nights are over. And… you weren't done with me? what do you even mean by that?”

“You want to know? Then name your price for tonight,” he said softly.

There it was again — the temptation. My demons screamed yes, my pride and maybe the little dignity I had left in me whispered no.

“I’m not for sale tonight,” I muttered.

Damian smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Everyone is, Aurora. Some for money. Some for peace. Some for love.” He leaned close, his breath brushing my ear. “Which one are you selling tonight?”

I froze, because I didn’t have an answer.

Before I could speak, Cal appeared by the curtain. “Boss. Everything okay here?”

I turned immediately, grateful for the interruption. “Yeah, I was just leaving.”

But Damian’s voice followed me, low and calm: “Yes, Cal. Everything is okay. She’ll stay.”

Cal looked between us, unsure what to do. He always obeyed Damian — that much was clear now.

I met Cal’s eyes, pleading silently for him to step into this case. But he didn’t. He just left me there.

Then it felt like something hit me in the head. Boss? Cal actually called Damian Boss. What the hell was going on?

“Aurora,” Damian said again, his tone like velvet and fire. “Sit.”

And I did. Not because he ordered it. But because I was tired of running from the parts of me that wanted this — the thrill, the danger, the darkness that only he seemed to understand. I also didn't have a choice. Damian wouldn't let any other guy take me for the night, and I needed the goddamned money.

He poured another glass and handed it to me. “You hate me,l already, don’t you?”

I took the glass, my hands trembling. “Maybe.”

“That’s a good thing,” he said softly. “It means I make you feel something.”

I sipped the wine just to avoid replying. My chest ached from anger, from fear, from attraction I couldn’t deny.

Then he said, almost casually, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be haunted by demons?”

I looked up at him, startled. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer directly. He just smiled — the kind of smile that hides a thousand secrets. “Maybe someday I’ll tell you.”

Something in the way he said it made me believe that he meant it.

I put the glass down. “If you’re trying to fix me, Damian, don’t bother. I’m too far gone. Also, you look like you need a lot of fixing too.”

“Maybe I’m trying to ruin you more,” he said, his voice innocent.”

I exhaled shakily. “You’re doing a good job already.”

He laughed, low and dark. “Then stay.”

I looked at him one last time. I really looked — and realized there was something behind those golden eyes. Pain. Sadness. Desperation. And maybe a story as broken as mine, or maybe not. But there was something.

Maybe that was why I didn’t walk away.

Well, I could swear that Damian was handsome. But it was unusual. Who the hell was he, that Cal would obey him so much.

A thought came to mind. But I brushed it off again.

I didn’t know if I wanted to fight Damian or fall into him. Maybe I wanted to do both.

I had to get to the night, because I needed more money. It's either I agree to be with Damian or I go home without money tomorrow.

Which?