Chapter 19 FUCK REPUTATION.
\~~~SERENA.
I looked at him, and I swear, I had never seen him look like this before. Angry was an understatement. Damien’s face was set in a hard line, his jaw was clenched, and his dark eyes were sharp and fierce.
He looked like he could punch through walls and nothing would stop him. Yet… his hand remained soft on mine. Gentle, careful, and protective.
I bit my lower lip as the ice pack pressed against my wrist. The cold stung, shooting a sharp pain through me, yet his touch was so soothing at the same time. I couldn’t help but notice the way his long fingers cupped my hand, holding it steady like it was the most fragile thing in the world.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice low but tense. “Do you want me to take you to the ER instead?”
A small chuckle escaped my lips. I shook my head. “It’s… It’s nothing. Not too much for a little thing like this, right?”
He froze, his dark brows pulling together as he looked at me. “Little? You call this little?” he snapped, sharp enough to make me flinch.
I pressed my lips together, worried I had annoyed him. But it was my arm. My wrist. Why was he so angry? Shouldn’t he have been mad at whoever hurt me, instead?
“There is nothing little about this,” he said, his voice tense, laced with frustration and something else I couldn’t name. “When you get hit, it hurts. And it’s okay to say it. Why would you call this little? You almost broke your wrist.”
“But…” my voice shook. I couldn’t stop the tremor of fear and lingering pain in my chest.
“Why are you yelling at me?” I whispered. “It hurts…” A tear escaped my eye before I could stop it, and my voice caught.
Damien dropped the ice pack with a soft thud, and he pressed his palm to his forehead, muttering under his breath. “What am I doing?”
I blinked up at him, heart hammering. “I was so scared,” I whispered. “I thought… I thought I was going to die. Why are you scolding me?”
He exhaled sharply and let his hand drop. “I… I am sorry, Serena.”
I didn’t answer. I pulled my hand away and wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. I could hear him groan quietly, and I caught the way he scooted closer, his movements deliberate and careful.
His hand found mine again, this time cupping it gently, while his other hand lifted my face toward him. I felt the heat of his palm against my cheek. “I am so sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I was just… pissed at what happened to you.”
“Pissed?” I echoed, my voice trembling. “Because someone dared break into your fiancé’s home? It is like a punch to your reputation, that is what you’re angry about?”
He hissed, a low, dangerous sound. “Fuck reputation,” he muttered.
I frowned. “Huh?”
He didn’t answer, only wiped the tears from my cheeks with the pad of his thumb and stroked my hair in a way that made my chest tighten. “I am going to catch the bastard who did this,” he said softly, his dark eyes never leaving mine. “And I will make him pay.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “He wore a mask,” I murmured. “Covered everything. There was barely any skin showing. You… you might not even find him. Just… let it go.”
His grip tightened slightly on my wrist, and he hissed again. “May God damn me if I let it go.”
Then he carefully unboxed a pain-relief patch, placing it gently on my wrist, his hands so precise and tender that I almost forgot how much it hurt. I watched him intently. The dark strands of hair that had fallen across his face, the curve of his jaw as he focused, and the way his fingers moved with surprising delicacy.
It took every ounce of self-control I had not to reach up and push the hair away from his eyes. Why did he have to be so… stunning? Older, more commanding than anyone I’d ever met, yet here he was, treating me like I mattered more than the world itself.
No. I was not supposed to be thinking that. Not supposed to admire him. He and I… we were not in the same league.
But then my own thoughts betrayed me. League? Girl, you’re marrying this man in less than two weeks, and you’re worried about leagues? Seriously?
Maya was right to have called me slow.
My heart raced, my pulse thudding in my ears. Every brush of his fingers, every careful motion, made me ache in ways I didn’t want to admit.
And still, I tried to keep my thoughts in check, telling myself this was just… care… protection. Nothing more. It had to be nothing more.
Yet I couldn’t ignore the flutter in my chest, the warmth spreading through me at the simple, protective touch of his hands. The way he held me, the way he looked at me… it made me feel like maybe, just maybe, I mattered more than I ever had before.
But I would never let myself go there. Never. I had to remind myself that he was older, more experienced, and untouchable in ways I wasn’t.
And yet… he was here, taking care of me, furious at anyone who dared harm me.
That had to be enough.
It had to.