Chapter 24
ROSALIE
44%
As the car slowed and pulled into the driveway of the penthouse building, I stared out the window in quiet awe. The neighborhood was pristine, with perfectly trimmed hedges, a wide cobblestone driveway, and a sense of luxury that was almost intimidating. Towering above was the building itself, sleek and modern, its glass panels reflecting the city lights.
I tried to mask my reaction, but I couldn’t help the way my eyes lingered on the grandeur. How many homes does Damien even have? I wondered silently, overwhelmed by the thought. Just when I thought I’d seen enough of his extravagance, he surprised me again.
“You like it, huh?” Damien’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I turned to find him watching me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“It’s alright,” I said quickly, shrugging and turning my head away, trying to seem unaffected.
His smirk deepened. “You’re a terrible liar, Rosalie. You were staring like you just stepped into another world.”
I shot him a flat look, my expression stoic. “I wasn’t staring
He chuckled softly but didn’t press further. Before I could say anything else, Damien got out of the car, walked around to my side, and opened the door. I started to step out, but before my feet even touched the ground, his arms were already around me, lifting me.
“Damien!” I protested, my voice sharp. “Put me down. I feel better now; I can walk.
He didn’t respond, only adjusting his grip on me as if I weighed nothing. His expression was focused, as though this was the most natural thing in the world
“I mean it,” I insisted, squirming slightly in his arms. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Hmm.” he murmured, still carrying me toward the entrance. “You’ve said that before. Forgive me if I don’t trust you to take “care of yourself just yet.”
I huffed in frustration, but the truth was, a part of me was caught off guard by his gentleness. This was not the Damien I was used to. The one I had met was harsh, unyielding, and utterly impossible. This new Damien–the one who carried me like I was fragile, who fed me, who smiled at me–was disarming. And that frightened me more than I cared to admit.
Nothing about Damien was permanent. Not even his kindness.
He stepped inside the building, nodding briefly at the concierge before heading to the elevators. I kept my gaze fixed anywhere but on him, trying to steady the flurry of emotions rising in my chest. The last thing I wanted was for him to see how easily he was starting to get under my skin.
When we reached the elevator, Damien finally set me down. His hands lingered just briefly on my arms to steady me before
stepped back, pulling his phone from his pocket.
he
“I’ve got to take this,” he said, his tone shifting to something more formal. “But you go on up. Just get into the elevator and press the top button. It’ll take you straight to the penthouse.”
I hesitated, glancing between him and the elevator. “You’re not coming?
He was already walking away, phone pressed to his ear. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said over his shoulder. “Just go on up.”
xe
Dreame–Read Romance…
Open
14:25 Tue, 18 Feb
Chapter 24
“Damien I started, but he didn’t stop.
44
ment, unsure of what to do. Part of me wanted to wait for him, but another part knew it would be
I stood there for a moment, pointless.
“How can you just leave me here?” I muttered under my breath. “I don’t even know my way around.”
But he didn’t look back. He disappeared around the corner, leaving me standing in the dimly lit hallway, clutching the strap of my purse. For a brief second. I considered chasing after him, but what would I even say? I wasn’t about to beg him to stay.
The silver–painted elevator doors gleamed under the warm lights, and I stepped inside hesitantly. As the doors slid shut, I stared at the panel of buttons, my hand hovering over the one labeled “Top Floor.” With a quiet sigh, I pressed it, and the elevator began to ascend smoothly.
The ride was quiet except for the soft hum of the machinery. I leaned against the mirrored wall, staring at my reflection. My makeup was still intact, but the wine stain on my dress was glaringly obvious. I tugged at the fabric, my mind running through the events of the evening.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal a pristine hallway. Two armed men stood flanking a massive silver door, their stances rigid and imposing. Their sharp eyes landed on me, but they didn’t move to stop me. Instead, one of them nodded.
“Mrs. Hale,” he said, his voice deep and formal. “You may enter.”
I blinked, hesitating for a moment before stepping forward. The door opened smoothly, revealing a penthouse so vast and beautiful that I stopped in my tracks.
The living room alone was larger than most houses I’d seen, with floor–to–ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view: of the city. The furniture was sleek and modern, the colors a mix of cool grays and whites, accented with soft, golden lighting. A glass staircase spiraled upward to what I assumed was another level.
I wandered further in, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor. The air smelled faintly of cedarwood, a scent that reminded me of Damien. Everything was immaculate, almost intimidatingly so.
I opened a door at random and found myself in a bedroom. It was spacious yet warm, with dark wood paneling and a massive bed draped in crisp, white sheets. My eyes were drawn to the closet on the far wall, its doors slightly ajar.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped closer, pulling the doors open fully. Rows of neatly hung suits and shirts filled one side, all undoubtedly belonging to Damien. His taste was expensive, each piece meticulously tailored.
I turned to the other side and froze.
There, hanging neatly, was an assortment of women’s dresses. Gowns, cocktail dresses, casual wear–everything you could imagine. Each piece looked brand new, the fabrics shimmering under the soft light.
I ran my fingers over the nearest dress, a simple black cocktail dress, soft as silk. My mind raced with questions. Who were these for? Damien never mentioned anyone else staying here. Then again, he never mentioned a lot of things
And then it hit me.
Damien had a reputation–a well–known one. He had always being playboy even from high school, someone who had no shortage of women. The thought made my stomach churn. Were these dresses for his many mistresses?
Anger flared up in me at the thought. My hands balled into fists at my sides. What was I doing here? Why was I even entertaining the idea of wearing one of these? The thought of putting on something meant for someone else someone he probably charmed the same way he was starting to charm me–made my skin crawl.
2/3
x8
Dreame–Read Romance…
Open
14:25 Tue, 18 Feb
Chapter 21
M
But I didn’t have a choice. My dress was ruined, and I couldn’t sit around in stained clothes. Swallowing my pride. I grabbed. a simple blue dress from the rack.
Not wanting to waste any more time, I began kicking off my shoes and peeling off the wine–stained dress. The fabric fell to the floor in a heap, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. I glanced at myself in the mirror, feeling exposed in more ways than one.
Just as I reached for the blue dress, I heard the soft click of the door opening behind
1 froze, my heart leaping into my throat,
“Damien!” I shrieked, but he had already entered, catching me off guard as his eyes lingered on me while I stood nearly
naked.
3/8
