Chapter 23 I can’t get him off my mind.
Isla's POV.
The city lights blurred past the window as the car moved through traffic and I pressed my forehead lightly against the glass, trying to slow my thoughts.
I was supposed to feel relieved.
The workday was over. I was leaving the Romano empire back to the mansion, back to the place that supposed to be home.
Instead, I felt restless. As if something inside me was touched and to settle back into place.
Damian’s pretend clung to me in ways I didn’t expect.
Not his touch. He hadn’t really laid his hands on me.
It was the way he stood too close without invading me.
The way his voice lowered when he spoke to me. The way he corrected people without raising his voice, without looking at them, without asking.
“She was speaking.”
That was enough. No one had ever done that for me before. Not without turning it into a spectacle. Not without reminding me that I owed them.
With Damian there, there was no performance.
Just certainly. And that scared me more than anything else.
I shifted in my seat, folding my hands together to stop them from shaking.
And care like that came with weight. With expectations. With strings that tightens you slowly until you don’t remember when it first wrapped you.
Freedom always comes at a price, I learned that was I was just a little girl.
The car slowed as we neared the gates of the mansion, the iron curves rising ahead of us. The familiar sight didn’t discomfort me the was it once did.
It always reminded me of how small my world had always been.
Inside, the house was quiet like it had always been.
Servants moved slowly, just as they had always done.
Except me. I barely made it three steps into the hallway when I fekt him around.
My husband.
He stood near the arch way that led deeper into the house, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, as if he had been waiting there for hours.
“Isla,” I stopped. I didn’t fully turned toward him.
“I heard you left early,”he said.
“I worked a full day.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Of course it wasn’t.
I finally turned, meeting his gaze. His expression was tight and unreadable in the way that always made me feel like I was standing in front of a locked door.
“You didn’t say anything,” he continued. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t know I needed permission.”
The words came out calm. They were honest.
His jaw flexed. “I’m trying to fix this,” he said. “You’re making it look hard.”
I let out a slow breath. “You’re trying to go back to how things were.”
“That wasn’t noting,” he replied sharply.
I shook my head. “It wasn’t enough.”
Silence fell between us, heavy and uncomfortable.
He stepped closer. Not touching, just close enough that I could see the tension rolling off him.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said.
My chest ached. There was it again. That word lose.
“I’m not something you replace,” I said quitely.
His eyes darkened. “You’re my wife.”
I nodded once. “And yet, I’ve never felt more than alone than when I’m standing right beside you.”
That landed.
I saw it in the way his shoulders stiffened. in the way his gaze flickered for a second before looking down again.
“I’m asking you to stay,” he said.
I stepped back. “I am staying,” I replied. “I’m just not shrinking anymore.”
I walked past him before he could say anything else.
Even if he followed, I wouldn’t look back to see.
I didn’t stop until I reached my room. I closed the door behind me and stood there, hand still on the handle, breathing as if I ran instead of walking.
My reflection in the mirror startled me.
I looked… different. I looked tired and bending.
His words replayed in my head countless times.
He wanted things to return to how there were had worked for him. I had survived it. That wasn’t the same thing.
I pressed my palm against my chest, feeling the rhythm beneath it. I was still there, still standing.
And yet mind betrayed me, drifting to where it shouldn’t go.
Damian. The way he noticed things without claiming credit. The way he protected me without announcing ownership.
He never saked me to shrink. He never reminded me of my place and néver used a leash.
That terrified me. Because if someone like decide to keep me… I wasn’t sure if I would have the strength to walk away.
And worse… I wasn’t sure I will even want to.
That night, sleep didn’t come easily.
My mind kept wandering back to the small moments from the day.
Damian adjusting his schedule so I won’t feel rushed.
The way he noticed when my focus drifted and paused the meeting with out calling attention to it.
The way his protection felt solid, not suffocating.
And that scared me. Because I wanted to.
The next morning, I dressed with care. I needed to feel steady and capable.
At work, everything blurred.
Numbers on the screen, voices in meetings, and the tasks I completed on instincts while elsewhere.
Damian noticed. Not in front of everyone. He waited until we were alone.
“You’re distracted,” he said.
I hestitated, then nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.
“I can handle it,” I said.
He looked at me for a moment, then nodded once. “If that changes, tell me.”
He didn’t push. And that restraint moved something in me.
By the time the workday ended, my nerves were frayed.
As I stepped into the car, my phone vibrated.
Josie. I answered immediately.
Her voice was shaking. “Isla,” she whispered. “He doing it again.”
My heart dropped. “Doing what?”
“He’s arranging it,” she said, panic thick in her throat. “He wants to marry me off. To one of them. A distant cousin. He said it would secure his position.”
My breath caught. “When?” I asked.
“Soon,” she said. “He’s already taking numbers.”
The city outside blurred into nothing.
“I’ll handle it,” I said. Even though fear clawed my chest. “I promise.”
The call ended and I sat there, hands trembling, realization crashing down on me.
Nothing had changed. The danger had just shifted.
And this time, it wasn’t only about me anymore.