Chapter 40

Damian’s POV

The first sign of her arrival wasn’t sight. It was silence.

Conversations that had been humming moments before began to thin, voices dipping to whispers as the crowd’s attention turned to the entrance. Then came the faint shift in perfume — jasmine, citrus, and smoke — a scent that shouldn’t have been familiar anymore but still hit me like a memory I hadn’t buried deep enough.

Ixora.

She never entered a room quietly. She inhabited it.

I felt the air change beside me before I saw her — Kayna’s posture stiffened subtly, her fingers tightening around her glass as she followed the crowd’s gaze.

And then Ixora was in front of us, every inch the force she’d always been — that calculated smile, that languid grace that never seemed rehearsed but always was.

“Damian,” she drawled, her voice a lazy purr that slid through the noise of the gala. “It’s been far too long.”

She was stunning, of course — sleek black hair swept over one shoulder, lips painted the color of blood and trouble. But what struck me most wasn’t her beauty. It was that glint of knowing in her eyes — the kind that came from once having the upper hand.

I straightened, instinctively pulling Kayna a little closer to my side. “Ixora.”

She smiled wider. “You still say my name like a warning. Some things never change.”

“Some things should,” I said evenly.

Her gaze flicked toward Kayna, assessing her the way a cat studies a bird that hasn’t decided whether to fly away yet. “And who might this be? Your latest project?”

“This is my assistant,” I said, the word landing too sharply.

Ixora’s brow arched, amused. “Assistant. Of course.”

Kayna extended her hand politely, her expression open but cautious. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms.—”

“Ixora,” she interrupted. “Just Ixora. Everyone calls me that.” Her eyes raked over Kayna’s face — not cruelly at first, just… clinically. “You’re very young.”

Kayna smiled lightly. “I find it helps.”

A flicker of irritation crossed Ixora’s features, so brief most people wouldn’t have caught it. But I did.

Ixora turned her attention back to me. “I must say, Damian, you have an impressive talent for finding pretty things to stand beside you.”

“Enough.” My voice was low but firm.

She laughed — a melodic sound that was all sharp edges underneath. “Don’t tell me I’ve offended your sensibilities. You didn’t used to be so serious.”

“People change.”

Her lips curved in a knowing smirk. “Not that much. I know you better than anyone here, Damian. You don’t change — you adapt. There’s a difference.”

Kayna shifted slightly beside me, and I felt her inhale, slow and controlled. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this kind of veiled hostility, and Ixora knew it.

The predator in her had scented blood.

“Ms. Ixora,” Kayna said softly, “if you’ll excuse me, I should check in with the event manager. Mr. Marshall, I’ll be right back.”

She gave me a quick, reassuring glance before slipping away — elegant, composed, but there was a subtle tightness in her shoulders that told me she’d understood more than she let on.

I watched her go, hating the part of me that felt both protective and grateful — protective because I didn’t want her near Ixora, and grateful because now I had to face this without the risk of collateral damage.

The moment Kayna was out of earshot, Ixora’s expression shifted. The charm fell away like a mask.

“You’ve developed a type,” she murmured. “Sweet, polite, easy to mold. But this one—” she gestured vaguely in Kayna’s direction “—has teeth. I can tell.”

“Don’t talk about her.”

“Oh, relax, Damian. You’re acting like I’m about to drag her through the tabloids.”

“You’ve done worse,” I said.

Her smile froze for half a second — then returned, colder. “Touché.”

There was a long silence. Around us, the orchestra swelled, the melody wrapping the tension in something deceptively elegant.

She leaned in slightly. “You really shouldn’t bring her to events like this. People are watching.”

“People always watch,” I said. “It’s part of the job.”

“Yes, but this—” she tilted her head, lowering her voice— “this looks personal. And personal is a weakness, isn’t it?”

I exhaled slowly. “If you came here to pick a fight, you’ll have to try harder.”

Her eyes softened — dangerously so. “I didn’t come here to fight. I came to see if you’re still you.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, Damian,” she whispered, smiling faintly. “That’s the lie you tell yourself before you go to sleep. You haven’t changed. You’ve just replaced me with a quieter ghost.”

Something inside me snapped, though my tone stayed even. “If you think you can walk in here and—”

“I’m not here to rekindle anything,” she cut in smoothly. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here because I heard the whispers. About your new projects. Your acquisitions. Your board.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” she said, her gaze sharpening, “you’re stepping into territory that used to be mine. And you didn’t even have the decency to call first.”

So there it was. The real reason she’d come. Not nostalgia. Leverage.

“You lost your claim to that territory when you sold your shares,” I said.

“You know as well as I do, shares aren’t the same as information.”

I didn’t respond, though my silence was answer enough. She smiled faintly, victorious.

“Still predictable,” she murmured. “Still dangerous when cornered. I almost missed it.”

“Ixora, whatever game you’re playing—”

She laughed softly, brushing imaginary lint from her gown. “Game? Damian, love, this isn’t a game. It’s a reminder. You should be careful about who you trust. Pretty faces can make you stupid.”

That hit harder than she realized — or maybe exactly as she intended.

Before I could respond, I caught sight of Kayna returning through the crowd. She’d replaced her composure with quiet grace, carrying herself like nothing had happened, but her eyes—her eyes searched for me first. And for a fleeting moment, that was enough to drown out everything else.

Ixora noticed. Of course she did.

“She cares,” she said softly, almost to herself. “You should worry about that.”

“Why?”

“Because caring makes people reckless.” She paused, smiling at Kayna’s approach. “And you’ve always had a weakness for the brave ones.”

Kayna reached us, her tone polite. “Everything’s in order. Shall we get you a drink, Mr. Marshall?”

“Please,” I said, grateful for the out.

Ixora’s eyes flicked between us one last time. “Well,” she said, her voice honeyed again, “this was… enlightening. I’ll be seeing you soon, Damian.”

I didn’t respond. She turned, the crowd parting naturally as she moved — a queen leaving her throne behind.

Kayna handed me a glass of water. “Old friend?” she asked gently.

I forced a humorless smile. “Something like that.”

“She doesn’t seem like the friendly type.”

“She isn’t.”

“Then why does she think she knows you so well?”

That question lingered longer than I wanted it to. I met her gaze, seeing curiosity mixed with something else — something unspoken.

“Because once, she did,” I admitted quietly.

Kayna nodded, the faintest crease forming between her brows, but she didn’t press. Instead, she simply said, “Then I guess we both know how to handle her next time.”

Her words were calm, but there was a subtle shift in her tone — something firm, certain. It disarmed me.

“Let’s hope there isn’t a next time,” I said.

“I’m not so sure,” she murmured.

Later, when the gala began to thin, I found myself at the balcony again. The city glittered beneath us — a thousand points of light that looked almost peaceful from up here.

But peace wasn’t what I felt.

Ixora’s warning echoed in my mind. You should be careful who you trust.

And even as I told myself it was just another one of her manipulations, a part of me — the part that had lived too long in this world of leverage and lies — couldn’t let it go.

Kayna had walked into my life with open eyes and quiet strength. But the more she saw, the closer she got, the more dangerous it became for both of us.

I turned, watching through the glass as she spoke with a few guests near the exit. The soft light caught the curve of her cheek, the calm set of her shoulders.

She didn’t belong in this world.

But God help me, she was the only part of it that felt real.

And if Ixora was right — if caring made people reckless —

then I was already far past saving.