Chapter 20 Annual Party
He doesn’t respond right away.
Instead, he cuts into his steak with deliberate precision, lifting a piece to his mouth. I hate myself for it, but my gaze follows the movement shamelessly—his lips, the slow chew, the subtle flex of his jaw.
I look away too late.
“You can call me Damien out of work.”
The words settle between us.
Damien.
The name feels… intimate. Too intimate. Saying it in my head alone makes something twist low in my stomach.
I shake my head slightly, trying to dismiss the thought.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Damien.”
His eyes lift again, dark and assessing, openly studying me now. There’s no attempt to hide it. No pretense.
“That’s better,” he murmurs. “And for the record, I’m not the least bit interested in her—if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He says it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his attention returning to his plate.
“I have my eyes on someone else,” he continues. “Every other woman is little to nothing compared to her. Her beauty. Her essence.” He pauses, as if choosing his words carefully. “It’s… beautiful.”
My breath catches.
Did I hear that right?
The sincerity in his tone makes my chest feel tight. There’s no arrogance in it. No smugness. Just quiet certainty.
But who is she?
I slowly lift my gaze, curiosity warring with something far more dangerous. When my eyes meet his, the world seems to narrow to just the space between us.
The intensity this time is unmeasurable.
He doesn’t look away.
Neither do I.
It feels like he’s staring straight into my soul, peeling back layers I didn’t even know were there. My skin prickles under his gaze, every nerve ending hyper-aware.
The moment stretches—too long, too charged.
Then—
“Oh, Damien. What a nice surprise…”
The voice comes from behind me, smooth and familiar, and my entire body reacts before my mind does.
Goosebumps erupt along my arms.
My stomach drops.
That voice.
Slowly, dread curling in my chest, I turn my head—already knowing that whatever happens next is about to change everything.
~ DAMIEN ~
His voice cut through the air like a needle—sharp, precise—pricking at the fragile peace I’d been holding onto by sheer force of will.
My grip tightened around the fork in my hand, the cold metal biting into my skin as anger bubbled beneath the surface. It was instant.
Violent. Familiar.
I could feel it coil low in my gut, hot and demanding, threatening to snap loose if I let it.
Breathe.
I forced a slow inhale through my nose, then another. Control had never been optional for me—it was survival. Losing it, even for a second, was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Across the table, I noticed Jasmine stiffen.
Her shoulders tensed, her body going rigid in that subtle way that only someone observant would catch. Jace had come to a stop beside us—too close. Far too close to her for my liking.
“I hope I’m not interrupting…”
He let the words trail off deliberately, the corner of his mouth curling upward into a smug smirk that made my jaw tighten.
He knew exactly what he was doing. He always did. Provocation was his favorite language.
It took everything in me not to snarl.
“What. Do. You. Want.”
I stressed every word, my voice low, clipped, restrained by clenched teeth.
The table felt too small. The space too tight. My pulse thundered in my ears as I fought the urge to stand and put him back in his place—physically, if necessary.
Calm down, Damien.
Again, I inhaled deeply, my chest rising and falling in a measured rhythm. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose control. That was what he wanted.
“Oh, nothing,” Jace replied easily, feigning innocence. “I just wanted to know if you were coming to the upcoming party. You never attend them, and each year I always invite you.” He chuckled softly. “I was hoping this time you could attend and bring your…”
His voice faded deliberately.
His gaze didn’t.
Instead, his eyes drifted to Jasmine, lingering far longer than necessary. I saw the slow movement of his tongue as he licked his lips, and something dark snapped inside me.
I felt it then—a dangerous, primal surge of possessiveness.
“I will attend,” I said calmly, lifting my gaze to meet his. My expression was blank, unreadable. “Thank you for the invitation.”
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Inside, however, I was anything but calm.
I wanted to tear his tongue out and feed it to the dogs.
But I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.
The absence of reaction was my greatest weapon.
I pushed my chair back abruptly, the scrape against the floor sharp and sudden.
Jasmine startled beside me, her eyes flicking up in surprise.
I stepped past Jace without sparing him another glance and held out my hand toward her. She looked at it, then up at me—confusion flickering across her delicate features.
I gave her a slight nod. A silent reassurance.
She hesitated only a second before slipping her soft hand into mine.
The contact grounded me instantly.
I helped her to her feet, my grip firm but gentle, and guided her past Jace without acknowledging his presence.
“Look forward to seeing you there!” he called after us, amusement laced thickly in his voice.
My fingers tightened around Jasmine’s hand as we exited the restaurant, the door closing behind us with a finality that felt like release.
The anger didn’t disappear—but it dulled, settling into something colder.
Sharper.
Jace was no longer in my line of sight.
Good.
Once we reached the car, I opened the door for her before walking around to the driver’s side.
The engine hummed to life as I pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring past us.
“What was that about?” Jasmine asked softly.
“And what party? Even Ray was talking about it.”
I could hear the curiosity in her voice—the gentle lilt of it.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she spoke, questions dancing behind her dark eyes.
God, she was adorable.