Chapter 94 *
Damon's POV
She didn't reach for the phone. Just sat there on the edge of my bed.
She knew calling the cops wouldn't do shit. Not in this city. Not when half the department was on my payroll.
I reached up. Loosened my tie. Pulled it off completely. Tossed it on the chair.
Her eyes tracked the movement. I saw her throat move when she swallowed.
I unbuttoned my cuffs. Rolled up my sleeves. Slowly. Deliberately.
The silence stretched out between us. Heavy. Charged with something I couldn't name.
When I started walking toward her, she pressed herself back against the headboard.
"Don't." Her voice came out smaller than she probably wanted.
I kept walking. One step. Then another.
My heart was pounding. Not from anger. From something else. Something that made my hands shake slightly as I rolled up my other sleeve.
"Don't move," I said. My voice came out lower than I intended. Rougher.
She froze. Her fingers gripped the edge of the mattress so hard her knuckles went white.
I stopped right in front of her. Close enough that my legs almost touched her knees.
She had to tilt her head back to look at me. Those eyes were wide. Uncertain.
But there was defiance there too. That stubborn spark that made me want to kiss her and strangle her at the same time.
"You disappeared." I kept my voice level. Calm. "Blocked my calls. Sent me divorce demands via text."
"I explained everything in the message—"
"You explained nothing." I leaned down. Put my hands on the mattress on either side of her. Caged her in completely.
She tried to lean back. But there was nowhere to go. The headboard was right behind her.
"Damon—"
"You want to talk about logic?" My face was inches from hers now. I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. "Let's talk about what's logical."
Her breathing had picked up. I could see her chest rising and falling faster.
My own heart was hammering against my ribs. I'd faced down armed men without flinching. Had stared down the barrel of a gun more times than I could count.
But this? Being this close to her? It made my pulse race in a way nothing else did.
"The logical thing," I continued, "would've been to pay you off. Set you up somewhere. Take the kid when it was born."
I shifted closer. Could smell that scent she always had.
"But I didn't do that. Did I?"
She shook her head slightly. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something.
I reached up. Grabbed her chin. Not hard. But firm enough that she couldn't look away.
My thumb brushed across her bottom lip. Her breath hitched.
Jesus Christ. That sound went straight through me.
"You're Mrs. Wolfe," I said quietly.
She tried to turn her face away. "Only because of the baby—"
I tightened my grip. Turned her face back to me. Leaned in even closer.
"The baby was an excuse." The words came out harsh. Raw. "I could've given you money. Set you up. Taken the kid. But I didn't."
Her pulse was racing under my fingers. I could feel it jumping in her throat.
She put her hands on my chest. Tried to push me back.
I didn't budge.
"If there was no baby," she said, "I would never have married you. This was a mistake."
Something snapped inside me.
My hand moved from her chin to her throat. Not choking. Just holding. Possessive. My thumb rested against her pulse point.
I could feel her heart hammering. Fast and wild.
My own chest felt tight. Like something was crushing my lungs.
"Say that again." My voice dropped to barely above a whisper. Dangerous. "I fucking dare you."
Her eyes widened. But she didn't back down.
Stubborn. Always so goddamn stubborn.
"I. Would. Never. Have. Married—"
I didn't let her finish.
I kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. Wasn't asking permission.
It was dominating. Punishing. Claiming.
My hand slid from her throat to the back of her head. Tangled in her hair. Held her in place.
She made a sound against my mouth. Started pushing at my chest.
I deepened the kiss. Poured every bit of frustration and anger and fear from the past five days into it.
She kept pushing. Kept trying to pull away.
But I felt the exact moment her resistance started to crack.
Her hands stopped pushing. Started gripping my shirt instead.
Her mouth softened under mine. Started responding.
My heart was going to explode. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
All I knew was her. The taste of her. The feel of her.
When I finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
Her face was flushed. Her lips were red and swollen.
She stared at me. Those eyes were glazed. Unfocused.
I stayed where I was. Hands on either side of her. Keeping her caged in.
My chest was heaving. My hands were shaking slightly from the effort of holding back.
I wanted to kiss her again. Wanted to make her forget every single thought about leaving.
But I forced myself to stop. To give her space.
Not much. Just enough to breathe.
I leaned close to her ear. Let my breath ghost across her skin.
"You don't get to decide when this marriage ends." My voice was low. Rough. "I do."
She shivered. I felt it run through her whole body.
"That's not how marriage works—"
I pulled back slightly. Looked her in the eye.
"In my world?" I let out a cold laugh. "That's exactly how it works."
I straightened up. Stepped back. Put some distance between us before I did something stupid.
My hands were still shaking. I shoved them in my pockets.
Walked over to the window. Put my back to her.
I needed a second. Needed to get myself under control.
The room was too quiet. All I could hear was my own breathing. And hers.
When I turned around, she was still on the bed. Still staring at me with those wide eyes.
I walked over to the chair. Sat down. Crossed one leg over the other. "Let me make something very clear." I kept my voice even. Calm.
She watched me. Waiting.
"Wolfe men don't divorce." I let that sink in. "It's not in our vocabulary. We don't quit. We don't walk away."
I paused. Held her gaze.
"And our women? They don't leave. Ever."
She opened her mouth. "You can't just decide—"
"I own half of this city." I didn't look up. Just kept scrolling. "Judges. Lawyers. Politicians. They all owe me favors."
"You want to file for divorce? Go ahead. Try." I leaned back in the chair.
"Every lawyer in New York will refuse to take your case. Every courthouse will lose your paperwork."
I smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
"You'll spend years trying to divorce me. And you'll fail. Every. Single. Time."
Her face went pale. But her jaw set. That stubborn tilt to her chin. She bit her lip. Refused to cry.
Fuck.
My chest tightened. I hated seeing her like this.
But she needed to understand. Needed to know this wasn't negotiable.
"This isn't fair." Her voice cracked slightly.
I stood up. Walked over to the bar cart in the corner.
Poured myself a whiskey. Neat.
Drank it in one swallow.
The burn helped. Slightly.
"What do you want, Scarlett?" It came out harsher than I meant.
"I want my life back." Her voice was quiet but steady. "I want to go to college. Date like a normal person."
She paused. Her voice got smaller.
"I want a divorce."