Chapter 134 134
Panic exploded through her as she fought against the grip dragging her through the crowd. She knew it was a man his stride was too long, his hold too strong, fingers biting painfully into her arm.
“Stop! Let go of me!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
But the music was deafening. The bass swallowed her voice whole.
Flashing DJ lights barely illuminated his figure as he shoved aggressively through bodies, clearing a path without apology. Fear coiled in her stomach.
For one terrifying second, she thought it might be Julien.
Why wasn’t Charles coming after her? Had he even noticed she’d been pulled away?
She grabbed the stranger’s wrist, trying to pry his hand off, but his grip only tightened. They burst out of the club into the cooler night air and still he didn’t stop.
Her steps faltered.
Then she saw it.
Black hair. Broad, unmistakable shoulders.
Damien.
He rounded the side of the building and finally released her with a rough shove.
She stumbled backward but caught herself against the cold brick wall, palm pressed flat as she struggled to steady her breathing.
When she looked up, he was already staring at her as though he could burn holes straight through her. His jaw was locked tight, fury radiating off him.
“What is your problem?” she bit out, rubbing her arm where his fingers had dug in. The man had no idea how to treat a woman.
“What exactly are you trying to do?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
“What?” She frowned, genuinely confused.
What was she trying to do? Live? Dance? Breathe?
“So Charles is your next target?” he spat, venom lacing every word.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. It took her a second to mask the shock, but by then he’d already read it in her expression.
“Yes,” she replied coolly, lifting her chin. “Is that a problem?”
She even let a teasing lilt creep into her voice, blinking at him with deliberate mischief.
His teeth ground together, but he held himself back.
“Why can’t you leave the poor guy alone?” he said, voice eerily calm. “Isn’t Julien enough?”
The words cut like acid, searing her from the inside out.
But she refused to let him see that.
“Of course not,” she rolled her eyes. “One is never enough.”
In the next instant, his hand slammed against the wall beside her face.
She flinched, breath catching. He was too close. All she could smell was his cologne—clean, sharp, like rain on warm pavement. It made her head spin.
“Which Jacqueline is this?” he murmured mockingly, his breath brushing her temple.
Her pulse raced violently.
The question unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
Why was she even standing here?
She exhaled sharply and tried to slip past him on the left. He anticipated it, stepping closer, blocking her path. His arm came down against the wall again, this time brushing her waist.
She darted the other direction, only for the back of her head to bump into his arm.
Trapped.
Her eyes shot up to him.
He loomed over her like something untamed, massive and unyielding. She barely reached his shoulder; her smaller frame felt painfully vulnerable under his shadow.
“What are you doing?” she snapped, scanning for an escape. Her skin prickled with unease.
“You didn’t answer me,” he growled.
The harshness of his tone made her flinch. She noticed her fingers trembling and curled them into fists at her sides.
“This is the real Jacqueline,” she said coldly. “The one you call a slut. The one you call a whore.”
She shoved his chest with all her strength.
He didn’t move.
It was like pushing a wall.
“Then let me taste it too,” he muttered darkly as he bent toward her mouth.
She turned her face sharply. His lips brushed her cheek instead.
His fingers tangled in her hair, gripping the nape of her neck, while his other arm wrapped tightly around her waist, hauling her flush against his chest.
She gasped, eyes wide with horror.
Pushing against him, she managed to wedge her forearms between their bodies, creating a small barrier.
“No. Stop!” she cried.
His lips grazed her jaw.
Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.
“Let me have you too,” he whispered harshly into her ear, his breath sending a shudder through her entire body. “I know you won’t mind.”
“No! Don’t!” she struggled harder, panic flooding her veins.
“Why not?” he pressed. “I can make you feel good. Just like Julien. Maybe better.”
Everything inside her went still.
The bravado vanished.
Her body stiffened in his arms as though her heart had forgotten how to beat.
Tears welled in her wide hazel eyes, fear naked and unguarded now. She clawed at his arms desperately, nails digging into muscle and skin, drawing thin lines of blood.
“N-no… p-please…” she stammered, trembling violently.
The shift in her was immediate and unmistakable.
He felt it.
He could smell it.
Fear raw and overwhelming rolling off her in waves.
And suddenly it hit him.
She thought he was going to force her.
Why would she think that?
“Why are you scared?” he hissed, confusion mixing with anger. “I wouldn’t be any different than Julien.”
But the terror in her eyes told him something was very, very wrong.