Chapter 15
Chapter 15
ROSALIE
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The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating. I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, my hands folded tightly in my lap as I stared out the window. The world outside blurred past–bright streetlights, darkened storefronts, strangers.
I didn’t speak. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Damien didn’t seem to mind the silence. He drove with one hand resting casually on the wheel, his other elbow propped against the window. Every now and then, I caught him glancing at me from the corner of his eye, but I refused to look at him. I wasn’t going to play into his games tonight.
The tension between us was like a wild wire, ready to snap.
When the car finally slowed, my stomach twisted. We pulled up in front of a lounge–it had a bright neon lights casting a warm glow against the night sky. He stopped the car and cut the engine.
He stepped out first, his movements slow as always. I heard the faint click of his door closing and the crunch of his shoes against the pavement.
A moment later, my door opened. He stood there, holding it open like he was some kind of gentleman, waiting for me to step out.
I looked at him, then at his outstretched hand, and my lips pressed into a hard line. Did he really think that this–this empty gesture was going to erase all the ways he had torn me down, controlled me, trapped me in a life I didn’t choose?
I didn’t take his hand.
I didn’t even look at him as I stepped out of the car, brushing past him like he wasn’t there. My heels clicked against the pavement as I walked toward the entrance, my heart hammering in defiance.
Behind me, I could feel his eyes on me, could almost hear the smirk that I knew was tugging at his lips.
The lounge was dimly lit, its sleek design screaming wealth and sophistication. Damien led the way, his hand lightly touching the small of my back as though he needed to guide me. I hated it–the way he always had to assert control, even in the smallest gestures. Still, I said nothing, silently walking beside him until we reached the table he had clearly chosen ahead of time.
We sat down. The plush chair beneath me was soft, but I couldn’t relax. My shoulders were tense, my hands clasped in my lap. Damien leaned back in his chair, every bit as composed as I was restless.
A waiter appeared almost immediately, his polished smile perfectly in tune with the luxurious atmosphere.
“What can I get you tonight?” the waiter asked, addressing Damien as though I didn’t exist.
“I’ll have the filet mignon, medium rare, with a side of roasted vegetables,” Damien said in a calm, authoritative tone. “And the same for the lady.”
I shot him a glance, but he didn’t look at me. He was already handing the menus back to the waiter, signaling the conversation was over.
Of course, I didn’t get to choose. I never did.
The waiter nodded, disappearing as quickly as he’d come.
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Chapter 15
“Do you ever consider asking me what I want?” I asked, my voice quiet but laced with irritation.
Damien finally turned his gaze toward me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ll enjoy it. I know what you like.”
I pressed my lips into a tight line, unwilling to argue. He didn’t know what I liked–he just liked to assume.
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The silence between us stretched, the faint murmur of other diners filling the void. Damien’s eyes lingered on me, scanning my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice softer.
I blinked at him, my irritation flaring again. “Why are you doing this?”
He tilted his head slightly, as though confused. “Doing what?”
“This.” I gestured vaguely at the table, the lounge, him. “One day, you’re… awful. Cruel. And then the next, you act like this, like everything is fine. Offering dinner, throwing compliments around. It’s insane.”
Damien’s smirk faltered, his expression hardening. His hand rested on the table, and I noticed his fingers curl slightly into a fist.
I hesitated, my words catching in my throat. For all his charm and composure, Damien had an edge–one that I had learned not to push too far.
After a moment, he let out a small sigh and forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “This isn’t the place for that kind of conversation, Rosalie,” he said, his tone cool and controlled. “Be classy. Be elegant. Enjoy your time here.”
The dismissal in his words stung more than I cared to admit. I clenched my fists in my lap, biting back the retort that sat on the tip of my tongue.
The waiter returned with our drinks, setting them down with practiced precision. I wrapped my fingers around the glass of water, using it as a distraction.
Before I could come up with another retort that wasn’t laced with bitterness, the sound of clicking heels interrupted us. A woman appeared at our table, her presence commanding immediate attention.
“Damien,” she said, her voice sweet and dripping with familiarity. “I didn’t think I’d find you here tonight.”
I froze, my stomach twisting as Damien’s face lit up. He looked genuinely pleased to see her, his smirk widening in a way it never did with me.
“Melanie,” he greeted, his voice warm and welcoming.
She was tall and slim, with sharp features and a dress that clung to her figure. Her perfectly styled hair framed her face like a halo, though the look in her eyes was far from angelic.
“I was just finishing up a meeting,” she said, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Imagine my surprise when I spotted you here.”
“Well,” Damien replied, his voice low, “you know me–always full of surprises.”
I watched silently, my grip tightening on the edge of my seat. Melanie hadn’t even acknowledged me.
“Oh,” Damien said suddenly, as though remembering I existed. He gestured toward me lazily. “This is Rosalie. My wife.”
Melanie turned her head slowly, her gaze flicking over me as if I were an afterthought. “Oh, how nice,” she said, her voice
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Chapter 15
insincere. Then she turned right back to Damien, as though I had already faded into the background.
“I had no idea you were married,” Melanie said, her tone playful. “You’ve been keeping secrets.”
“Not a secret,” Damien replied with a shrug. “Just never came up.”
She laughed, the sound high and artificial, and leaned in closer. “Well, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
Damien smirked, leaning back in his chair as though this entire interaction were some private joke.
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I stayed still, my gaze fixed on them, my chest tightening with every second that passed. The way Melanie leaned into him, the way her hand brushed down his arm, the way Damien didn’t move away–it was unbearable. But I didn’t say a word.
“You must be so busy,” Melanie continued, her hand lingering. “Balancing work and… everything else.”
Damien chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with amusement, “It’s a challenge, but I manage.”
Melanie’s laugh rang out again, and I felt my stomach churn. Every second felt like a deliberate taunt. She knew what she was doing. So did he.
I gripped my hands in my lap, nails digging into my palms to keep myself from reacting. My face remained neutral, but inside, a storm was raging.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening,” Melanie said, though she made no move to leave.
“You’re not interrupting,” Damien replied smoothly.
That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. My pulse pounded in my ears as I stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor.
“I’m going home,” I said sharply, my voice cutting through the air like a blade.
Damien’s head snapped toward me, his smirk fading. “Rosalie,” he said, his tone low, warning.
“Mrs Hale, I was just about leaving. Did I do something wrong?” Melanie asked, her tone syrupy.
I didn’t stop. I turned and walked away, ignoring the way Melanie’s mock display of concern followed me and the sound of Damien calling my name.
Let him deal with his “surprise” guest. I was done.
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