Chapter 23 Chapter 23
The moment Rina said his name, a slow burn started under my skin.
Damien Kane.
Of all the men who could’ve resurfaced, it had to be the one whose ambition was poison wrapped in charm. The one who used people the way others used disposable pens—take, drain, discard, replace. I knew his type too well.
And now he wanted Elena.
Not in the way men want a woman.
No—he wanted to own her downfall.
“Elena stays here,” I said, already heading toward the elevator. “You don’t move. Not until I come back.”
She stepped toward me. “Adrian—wait. He’s targeting me. I should be there.”
I turned sharply, stopping her with a look. “He’s targeting you, which is exactly why you’re staying behind me.”
Her lips parted, frustration flashing in her eyes, but fear flickered there too. Not fear of Damien—fear of being blindsided again. Fear of losing control. Fear of being powerless.
I softened my tone. “Trust me.”
After a moment, she nodded—small, reluctant, but enough.
I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing on the sight of her standing there, arms wrapped around herself, looking much smaller than she ever let herself show.
Good.
Let her think I was just being overprotective.
Because the truth was darker:
I wanted to rip Damien apart for even breathing near her.
By the time I reached the lobby, security had already formed a loose circle around a tall man in a charcoal suit. Damien stood like he owned the building, hands in his pockets, an amused smirk curving his mouth as if this was entertainment.
His eyes slid to me with slow, taunting recognition. “Adrian Blake. The prodigal wolf returns.”
Great. He was already performing.
“Get out,” I said flatly.
“Aww,” he drawled, stepping out of the security circle, “is that how you greet an old acquaintance? No handshake? No polite small talk? No—how do I put it?—courtesy?”
“I’m not here to be courteous.”
He chuckled, low and derisive. “I heard. The whole city’s buzzing. Executive princess Elena Carter photographed flirting with the city’s coldest bachelor. Perfect timing, don’t you think?”
He said the word flirting like it was something filthy.
I saw red.
“You leaked that photo,” I said. “You orchestrated the breach. You think walking into her building will intimidate her into signing away her shares?”
His smile widened. “Is that what she thinks? I only came to talk.”
“No. You came because you want power. And you think breaking her will give it to you.”
Damien tsked. “You sound… protective.”
I didn’t answer, because anything I said would only betray the truth I was already trying to ignore. Damien, of course, noticed anyway.
“Oh,” he breathed, eyes lighting up. “So that’s what this is. You want her.”
I stepped into his space. “Don’t talk about her.”
He tilted his head. “Why not? The rumor mill says she’s quite… passionate when she trusts someone.”
I didn’t think—I moved.
My fist slammed into his jaw, sending him stumbling back into a glass partition. Security jumped forward, but I held up a hand. “Stay out of this.”
Damien wiped blood from the corner of his lip, then gave me a delighted laugh. “Ah. There he is. Adrian Blake—the man who only loses control when someone threatens what he claims.”
I didn’t claim her.
But the instinct to protect her ran deeper than logic.
“Try anything with her again,” I said, my voice low, “and I will make sure no boardroom in this city ever opens its doors to you again.”
Damien’s eyes sharpened. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
He stepped close enough for me to smell his cologne—sharp, metallic, infuriating.
“See, Adrian… you’re fighting the wrong demon.”
His voice dropped, almost conspiratorial.
“I don’t want her company. Or her money.”
I stiffened. “Then what do you want?”
His smile turned slow and poisonous. “Her downfall.”
Cold slid down my spine.
“And once she breaks,” he continued, “I’ll take whatever pieces are left. That’s the thing about the Carters—they always underestimate how far a grudge can reach.”
“You underestimate how far I’ll go to stop you.”
He stepped back, adjusting his collar as if we were merely discussing stock prices. “Oh, I know exactly how far you’ll go. You forget—I studied you before I left this city. You like control. You like power. But emotions?” He smirked. “That’s your Achilles’ heel.”
Before I could respond, the elevator chimed.
I turned—and froze.
Elena stood there, breathless, eyes wide.
She must’ve run after me.
Great.
Exactly what I told her not to do.
Damien’s smirk stretched. “Elena. You look lovely.”
She ignored him completely and walked straight to me. “Are you okay?”
I blinked. “You weren’t supposed to come down.”
“And you weren’t supposed to punch him,” she shot back.
Damien gave a theatrical sigh. “Ah, marital tension. How sweet. Should I give you two a moment?”
Marital tension.
My jaw tightened. He knew about the contract plans—or he suspected. Either way, he was sniffing around too much.
Elena turned to Damien. “What do you want? Why are you doing this?”
Damien’s gaze softened in a way that made my stomach twist—fake softness, the kind used to manipulate. “Elena… you left without a goodbye. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
Her face went pale. “The last time I saw you, you lied to my father and tried to steal from the company.”
He shrugged. “People evolve.”
“No,” I said. “Snakes shed skin. They don’t evolve.”
Damien finally dropped the pleasant mask. His eyes hardened into something sharp and cruel. “Fine. I’ll be clear.”
He stepped toward her, and I instantly shifted, blocking him.
But he spoke anyway—loud enough for her to hear every word.
“I came back,” he said, “because Daniel Carter wasn’t supposed to beat me to destroying you.”
Elena’s breath hitched. “Destroying… me?”
“Sweetheart,” Damien whispered, “you’ve always been too easy to ruin.”
Before I could lunge again, he turned and walked out, the doors sliding shut behind him.
Silence.
Thick.
Heavy.
Crushing.
I exhaled slowly and turned to Elena.
She stared at the door, face drained of color, hands shaking.
“Elena,” I said gently, “are you okay?”
She didn’t look at me.
She whispered one sentence that made something dark settle in my chest.
“He came back… because of me.”
I reached for her arm. “Hey. Look at me.”
She finally raised her eyes.
“I’m becoming a target, Adrian.”
“No,” I said firmly, “you’re becoming a threat.”
Her lips parted slightly.
“And Damien Kane,” I continued, “doesn’t attack unless he’s afraid.”
Her heartbeat seemed to slow. “Afraid… of me?”
“No,” I said, my voice dropping lower.
“Afraid of what you and I can destroy together.”
Her breath caught.
And I knew—
this was no longer just revenge.
It was war.