Chapter 64 FASCINATING.
\~~~SERENA.
My heart pounded like a drum in my chest as I sat on the edge of the bed, my head buried between my knees. The room felt too quiet, and too heavy with the weight of what I'd just uncovered.
It had been over an hour since I'd stumbled upon that hidden space in Damien's study, and peace was nowhere in sight.
My mind raced through the images of me from years ago, snapshots of my life with Ryan, even the ugly truth of his cheating with Lisa.
Damien had known it all along. He'd been watching me, collecting pieces of my world like some secret puzzle. Why? The question clawed at me, mixing fear with a twisted sense of betrayal. This man I'd started to care for, the one who'd made my honeymoon feel like a dream, had secrets darker than I imagined.
I hugged my legs tighter, my fingers tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to ground the spinning thoughts. The house was silent except for the distant hum of the city outside. Part of me wanted to cry, to scream, but I just sat there, frozen.
How could I face him now? Our marriage was supposed to be a simple, practical, and emotionless arrangement. But after those moments during the honeymoon, and the yacht, I'd let myself feel more. Stupid.
So stupid.
The low rumble of a car engine pulled me from my haze.
It pulled into the driveway, tires crunching on gravel. Any other day, I'd jump up, maybe greet him with a smile.
But today? I didn't move an inch. My body felt leaden, rooted to the mattress.
Let him come to me. Let him see the storm he'd hidden away.
Minutes ticked by before his footsteps echoed in the hall, steady and confident.
The bedroom door creaked open, and there he was. Damien.
His presence filled the room like always, a mix of strength and warmth that usually made my stomach flutter. Now, it just made me ache. I kept my head down, staring at the carpet fibers, but I could feel that invisible pull, and the relief washing over me despite everything. God, I wished I could stand, wrap my arms around his waist, and bury my face in his shirt. Just look at him and forget the photos.
This was the first time in two weeks we'd been apart. The honeymoon had glued us together with lazy mornings, and nights tangled in sheets. I'd grown used to him, craved him even. And now this.
“Moonlight,” he groaned, his voice low and tired from the day. I heard the rustle of fabric as he shrugged off his coat, tossing it over the chair. The familiar scent of his cologne drifted closer, clean and spicy. It tugged at me, but I stayed put.
“There's this new ice cream parlor just before we enter the premises,” he continued, oblivious at first.
“I think they just launched, I only noticed them today.” Buttons popped as he started unbuttoning his shirt, the soft clicks punctuating his words. I could picture his long fingers working the cuffs, revealing his tanned skin inch by inch.
“Guess what I did?” He paused, waiting for my usual excited response. When I didn't give it, he glanced up. I lifted my head then, meeting his eyes. Dark, intense, framed by that sharp jawline. He looked so normal, and so caring.
“I got you all the flavors they have, in liters. It's in the refrigerator already. I trust you are…” His words trailed off mid-sentence.
His brows furrowed, that alpha gaze sharpening as he took me in looking curled up, disheveled, and my eyes probably red from holding back tears. “What happened to you, Ena?”
He crossed the room in two strides, sitting on the bed beside me. His hand landed gently on my shoulder, warm through my sweater. But I jerked away, scooting back like his touch burned.
“Ena?”
He breathed out my name, confusion lacing his tone. Then, softer, almost pleading, “What did I do?”
I couldn't sit there anymore. Pushing off the bed, I stood, pacing to the window. My hands ran through my hair, tugging at the roots as I tried to sort the chaos. Where to start? The photos? The dates? Ryan's lies that he'd known about?
“I snooped around in your study,” I finally said, voice shaky but firm. “And I found some disturbing content.”
The air thickened. I turned to face him, and the look on his face confirmed that he knew exactly what I meant.
There was no surprise on his face, just a flicker of resignation. He leaned back against the headboard, resuming his unbuttoning like it was nothing. The shirt slipped open, exposing his broad chest, the defined abs that I'd traced with my fingers just days ago. Heat rose in my cheeks, unwanted, as my eyes dropped there. I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze back up.
He shrugged the shirt off completely, letting it fall to the floor. Bare from the waist up, he looked every bit the powerful man he was. His muscles honed from discipline, skin marked by a faint scar across his ribs.
“How long have you been stalking me?” The words burst out, sharper than I intended.
“Stalking is a heavy word, Moonlight,’' he replied, his voice a low groan. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes never leaving mine.
“You have information about me dated years ago,” I said, my voice rising. “How long have you…” I sucked in a breath. “How long have you been keeping track of me?”
“Serena,” he said gently.
“How long?” I demanded.
He turned to face me fully now, a small smile tugging at his lips, soft, and almost fond.
“Four years, baby,” he said calmly. “Four years.”
My breath left me in a sharp gasp.
Four. Years.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I whispered.
I laughed once, short and hollow, shaking my head. “Do you know how insane that sounds?”
He stepped closer and I stepped back.
“You watched me,” I continued, heat rising in my chest. “You watched me date your nephew. You watched me get cheated on. You watched me live my life without knowing you were always there.”
“I didn’t interfere,” he said calmly.
“That’s not the point!” I snapped. “You knew things about me before I ever knew you. You knew my pain, my humiliation, and my heartbreak.”
“Yes,” he admitted without hesitation.
“Why?” My voice cracked. “Why me?”
He studied me quietly for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
“Maybe because… you were fascinating,” he said.