Chapter 84: My Celeste

The crystal tumbler shattered against the mahogany wall of my office, amber whiskey bleeding down the expensive paneling like liquid gold. I'd been pacing for hours, rehearsing the words I needed to say to Celeste. The penthouse meeting I'd planned, the careful revelation of how much I knew about her digging into her father's company collapse, all of it scripted to perfection.

She was supposed to come to the penthouse yesterday. I was supposed to tell her calmly that I'd been watching, that I knew every move she'd made in her quest for answers. That she was playing with fire and needed to step back before she got burned. That I had plans, better plans to take care of her and her family.

Instead, she'd ignored every one of my calls last night, and now...

The office doors burst open with such force they slammed against the walls. Celeste stood there like an avenging angel, her chest heaving, dark hair wild around her shoulders, eyes blazing with a fury that should have intimidated me. Instead, it sent heat coursing through my veins in the most inappropriate way possible.

She was magnificent in her rage. Even with her face flushed with anger, her professional blazer slightly askew, she was the most breathtaking thing I'd ever seen. Every fiber of my being wanted to cross that room, pin her against the door, and kiss that defiant look right off her lips.

"You bastard!" she shouted, and even her voice, raw with emotion, sent shivers down my spine. "How could you let this happen? How could you let that your psychopath brother near my sister?"

The words hit me like ice water. This wasn't about her father's company. This wasn't about her investigation. This was about Ethan.

My desire evaporated, replaced by cold, calculated fury.

"What did he do?" My voice came out deadly quiet.

"He kidnapped Olivia! He took her, Damien! He thought she was me, he's obsessed with me, and he took my innocent sister instead. He held her for hours before he realized his mistake and let her go, but not before threatening her to keep quiet about it!"

The room seemed to tilt. Ethan had crossed a line I didn't even know existed. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

"Where is she now?"

"Safe. But that's not the point"

I was already reaching for my phone, speed-dialing my driver. "James, bring the car around. Now."

"Damien, are you listening to me?"

I looked at Celeste, saw the fear beneath her anger, the way her hands trembled slightly despite her fierce stance. Later, I would deal with how stunning she looked in her fury. Later, I would have that conversation about her father and what she'd been investigating. Right now, I had a brother to handle.

"I'm going to fix this," I told her, my voice granite-hard. "Go home. Lock your doors. Don't go anywhere alone until I call you."

I swept past her, ignoring her protests, my mind already focused on what I was going to do to Ethan.

The drive to Ethan's house felt endless. My driver, sensing my mood, didn't attempt conversation. I sat in the back seat, fury building with every mile. Kidnapping. He had kidnapped Olivia because of his sick obsession with Celeste. How had I been so blind to what my own brother had become?

Ethan's house was dark when we arrived, his car nowhere in sight. Perfect. I dismissed James and walked around to the back. Tonight, I was grateful for his carelessness.

I forced the door open and stepped inside, the familiar layout of his house guiding me even in the darkness.

The house felt hollow as I made my way to his living room, settling into his leather armchair to wait. The darkness suited my mood perfectly.

I sat there for two hours, my anger crystallizing into something cold and sharp. When I finally heard his car in the driveway, heard his stumbling footsteps on the hallway, I was ready.

The front door opened, and Ethan lurched in, reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume. He flicked on the lights and froze when he saw me.

"Damien? What the hell"

I was on him before he could finish the sentence. My fist connected with his jaw with a satisfying crack, sending him sprawling across his coffee table. He came up spitting blood, his lip already swelling.

"You sick bastard," I snarled, grabbing him by his shirt collar and hauling him to his feet. "Kidnapping innocent women? You took Olivia because you're obsessed with her sister? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Another punch, this one loosening a tooth. Blood splattered across his marble floor.

"Olivia!l. You kidnapped her thinking she was Celeste. Then you threatened her to keep quiet when you realized your mistake."

His eyes went wide, then crafty. "She's beautiful, isn't she? So innocent, so"

I slammed him against the wall hard enough to rattle the picture frames. "You're going to listen very carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. You're going to check yourself into a facility. Tonight. You're going to get help for whatever sick compulsion is driving you to terrorize young women. And if I ever! ever!vhear of you going near another woman without explicit consent, I will destroy you so completely that no one will remember you ever existed."

I released him, and he slumped against the wall, blood trickling from his mouth.

"You have twenty-four hours," I continued, straightening my cuffs. "After that, I stop being your brother and start being your worst nightmare."

I walked toward the door, then paused. "And Ethan? If you think about running instead of getting help, remember that I have resources you can't even imagine. There's nowhere you can hide that I won't find you."

I left him there, broken and bleeding, and didn't look back.

The drive back to my mansion should have calmed me, but instead, I found myself growing more agitated. The image of Celeste in my office kept replaying in my mind, her fury, her fear for her sister, the way she looked like she wanted to tear me apart with her bare hands.

I was so lost in thought that I almost didn't notice the figure waiting by my door  until she spoke.

"Hello, darling."

Celia stepped out of the shadows, wearing a black dress that left little to the imagination and a smile that promised trouble. Her timing couldn't have been worse.

"Not tonight, Celia," I said, not slowing my pace toward the hall.

She fell into step beside me, her heels clicking against the marble floor. "You look tense. I could help with that."

"I said not tonight."

She pressed herself against my arm as we waited for the elevator. "Come now, Damien. When did you become so resistant to a little fun? What happened to all those enjoyable evenings we used to share?"

The doors opened to my suite, and I stepped inside, but she followed before they could close.

"What happened to your stable of playboys?" I asked, finally looking at her directly. "Suddenly they're not enough entertainment?"

Something flickered in her eyes hurt, maybe, or calculation. "Maybe I've developed more... refined tastes."

Celia still trailing behind me.

"Find someone else to refine your tastes with," I said, heading toward my private office  door. "I'm not in the mood for games tonight."

"This isn't a game, Damien."

I paused, my key halfway to the lock, and turned to look at her. There was something different in her voice, something that sounded almost... desperate.

But tonight had already been too much. Celeste's anger, Ethan's depravity, and now Celia's sudden intense interest in rekindling whatever we'd once had. I couldn't handle one more complication.

"Goodnight, Celia," I said firmly, and shut the door between us.

Inside my office, surrounded by the familiar luxury that usually brought me peace, I poured another whiskey and stood at my floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the city lights below.

Tomorrow, I will have to face Celeste again. I would have to explain not just what I knew about her investigation, but what I'd done about Ethan. I would have to find a way to protect her from dangers she didn't even know existed yet.

But tonight, all I could think about was how she'd looked in my office, fierce, protective, absolutely magnificent in her rage. And how badly I'd wanted to kiss her senseless despite everything falling apart around us.