Chapter 74 FIERY ENTANGLEMENT.
\~~~SERENA.
“She knows something, Maya. She knows me,” I said, my voice low but urgent. The echo of footsteps around us made me glance over my shoulder, half-expecting her to appear.
Maya rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone as we pushed through the double doors into the bustling cafeteria. The smell of fried food and coffee hit me, but my appetite was gone. “How is that possible? Come on, Serena, you are spiraling.”
“I don’t know. It is just a feeling.” I grabbed a tray, more for something to hold than to eat. We slid into line, the chatter of students drowning out my thoughts for a second.
“You are just being paranoid. Here, listen to this.” Maya tapped away on her screen, her brows furrowing in concentration. “Gwendolyn Forbes, forty-one years old, and… unmarried… wow.”
“She is forty-one?!” I shrieked, drawing a few stares from nearby tables. Heat flushed my cheeks, but I didn't care.
“Yes.” Maya grinned, scrolling faster.
“She looks… like thirty!” I gasped, imagining that flawless skin and those piercing eyes.
How did she do it? Botox? Magic?
“Well, I’d be meeting her later for tips to slow down aging after I graduate,” Maya laughed, her voice light and teasing. She bumped my shoulder, trying to pull me out of my funk.
“Girl!” She gasped again, her eyes widening as she read more.
I leaned in, peering at the screen. “Tell me, tell me!”
“She is a high court judge with over a decade on the bench. And oh, she’s notoriously known in the field as meticulous and cruel with her rulings. Girl, we should steer off her path.”
“But…” I trailed off, my mind racing.
“Why would you even think she knows you personally? She lives in the UK.”
A judge from the UK? What was she doing here, picking on law students like me?
Maya pocketed her phone for a second to grab a sandwich, then pulled it out again.
“Look at the comments under this article.”
I took the phone, scrolling through the page she'd pulled up. Article after article praised her sharpness and how she dismantled cases with precision, leaving no room for lies.
The comments were a mix as some called her a genius, others whispered about her ruthlessness. “She’s psychic,” one said. “Knows how to pinch you exactly where it hurts,” another joked.
“So, babe, she doesn’t know you, okay? Don’t even let that bother you.” Maya squeezed my arm, her tone firm but kind.
I twitched my lips, forcing a nod. It made sense on paper.
Fine, a visiting professor, sharp as a knife, asking me tough questions like its her job. But a huge part of me refused to believe it was random. Her gaze had lingered too long, and her words too pointed.
We sat at a corner table, picking at our food. Maya chattered about her date plans, but I only half-listened. The cafeteria buzzed with energy, laughing groups, and trays clattering but I felt isolated, like I was watching from behind glass. By the time we finished, the doubt hadn't faded. It simmered, low and insistent.
The rest of the day dragged on like that. After lunch, I had back-to-back seminars and I buried myself in notes, highlighting key cases and jotting down arguments.
But every time the next professors called on someone, my heart skipped, waiting for that pointed finger. It didn't come, but the tension stayed.
Final year was no joke. With exams looming in less than two months, I had stacks of readings to plow through.
Maya waved goodbye after our last class, heading off to meet her guy. I lingered in the library for an hour, forcing myself to review Forbes's lecture notes.
And by the time I gathered my things and stepped out of the premises, the sun hung low, casting long shadows across the parking lot. It was past 5 p.m., the campus quieter now, just a few stragglers rushing to cars or buses. The air had cooled, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier. I adjusted my bag on my shoulder, mentally mapping out my evening. Dinner, study session, and maybe a call to Mom if I wasn't too wiped.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw him. Leaning against his sleek black car with arms crossed, and that easy confidence radiating like always. Damien.
He spotted me immediately, a slow smile spreading across his face as he waved.
My breath caught, then whooshed out in a sigh. I rolled my eyes, but a traitorous flutter stirred in my chest.
I walked over, my steps deliberate, trying to ignore how the sight of him in his tailored shirt and slacks made my pulse quicken. The parking lot lights flickered on, illuminating his sharp jaw and those dark eyes that always seemed to see too much.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, stopping in front of him. My voice came out sharper than I meant, laced with the day's frustrations.
He straightened, that wink flashing as he leaned in. “To pick up my beautiful wife, of course.” Before I could protest, his lips brushed the corner of mine quick, warm, and gone in a heartbeat.
I froze, the touch sending sparks through me. It was nothing, really, just a peck, but it shattered the fragile distance I have been practicing with him. His cologne wrapped around me, familiar and intoxicating, stirring up memories.
I stepped back, crossing my arms to hide the way my hands trembled.
I blinked, unsure of how to respond at first. There was a sharp mix of irritation, relief, and an inexplicable pull in my chest.
“I can get a cab, you know,” I muttered, though my voice lacked conviction.
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Nope. I insist. You’re not leaving without me.”
I let out a long sigh and finally gave in, walking around to the passenger side of the car. As I slid into the seat, I couldn’t help but notice how calm he looked, leaning casually against the door, his jacket slung over one arm, eyes scanning the surroundings. There was a confidence about him, an ease that was simultaneously infuriating and oddly reassuring.
As he walked around to the driver’s side, I glanced out the window at the campus, and for a moment, I tried to focus on something else, anything else, but my mind kept wandering back to him.
He opened the car door for me with that same polite precision he always seemed to carry. “After you,” he said, his voice low and calm.
I swallowed and muttered a quiet thanks, sliding in completely. The seatbelt clicked into place, but it felt like it did nothing to contain the fluttering in my chest.
As he started the engine, the car hummed to life.
I stole glances of Damien as he focused on driving out of the lot and I swallowed the lump in my throat.
All of this started as a reckless plan for vengeance and now it has spiraled into a fiery entanglement of passion, secrets, and scandal.
The more time I spend with him, the more I realize he isn’t just a weapon for revenge, but a man who can set my body and soul ablaze.
Oh, fuck.
Revenge should never feel this intoxicating.