"Jealousy isn't always loud. Sometimes, it's the silence after someone walks away, the quiet fury of knowing you should have followed, but didn't."
Damian's POV
The glass in my hand was empty, but I didn't remember drinking.I stared at the dark liquid residue at the bottom, jaw clenched, as my phone screen lit up with yet another notification.
'Sinclair & Blackwood: A Power Couple in the Making?'
I swiped the headline away, barely glancing at the attached picture. I already knew what it was. A perfect shot of Trina and me at the gala, bodies close, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. We looked like the perfect, composed couple. Except, I knew the truth.
Because hours later, she had been flirting with some bartender like I wasn't even in the damn room. And I had let her walk away.
She wasn't supposed to affect me this much. I shouldn't care this much. I knew this whole marriage deal was too much. I tried to ignore her but she evoked strange emotions from me.
I couldn't even do anything to the bartender. I was pissed that she could smile that widely and be so care free with someone she didn't even know, yet she stared at me with so much resentment.
I wasn't jealous but I was supposed to be the only one that made her laugh that much. I should have punched the guy in the face but I just stood staring as she walked away.
I wanted to walk up to him and let him know who she belonged to. She was mine.
No! She wasn't I cautioned quickly. This was a dangerous game.
Trina Sinclair was dangerous for me. I shouldn't be feeling all this thing's but here I was wondering why I didn't go after her.
She is a business arrangement. A means to an end.
But then why does the memory of her eyes lighting up at the sight of another man set his teeth on edge?
I was still brooding when my phone rang.I recognized the number before I even answered.
My father.
"Damian," his voice was sharp, clipped. "Enough playing around. The board wants a wedding date."
I closed my eyes briefly, exhaling. "We're handling it."
"No, you're delaying it," he snapped. "You and Trina might enjoy your little media games, but the company needs stability. I don't care if you like her or hate her, this wedding needs to happen. No more waiting."
I knew this was coming. Knew that eventually, the leash would tighten.
"How long?" I asked, voice even.
"Six weeks."
A muscle in my jaw ticked. Six weeks. Barely enough time to breathe.But I knew what this was. A test, One last way for my father to remind me who was really in charge.And I hated that more than anything.
Trina's penthouse was too perfect, much like her. Everything was curated, expensive, pristine. On the outside you could feel the coldness of everything. It was the perfectly cut grass and trees. It reminded me of somewhere else I knew.
My house.
I once always hoped to start a family where my house wasn't just a house but an home. Well, now, I called it wishful thinking. Here I was in front of my fiancee's house going to tell her the board had set a date for our wedding.
This wasn't the life 10 year old me imagined. But well, I figured at an early age that my whole life was going to be a business transaction. At that point, you have no option than to make peace with it.
I walked in looking round for a sign of life in the large living room.
There she was.
She was curled up on the couch when I walked in, scrolling through her phone, looking entirely unbothered.
I shut the door behind me, crossing my arms. "You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"
She glanced up, a slow smirk pulling at her lips. "You'll have to be more specific, fiancé." I ignored the way my stomach twisted at the word.
She had her hair in twin braids.i was sure she wasn't planning on leaving home at all. Her face was makeup free,she was dressed in very short shorts and a ribbed crop top. It did things to my insides. I could let this distract me.
Instead, I tossed my phone onto the table. The screen still showed the latest news alert—another headline speculating about our relationship.
"The wedding is happening in six weeks."
Trina's brow lifted, but she didn't look surprised. "That fast? My, my, Damian. I didn't know you were so eager. Who knew you wanted us together so fast. Here I was thinking you where bothered by my existence and wanted to do everything in your power to control your puppet. Or, this is your quicker way of putting a leash on me."
I clenched my jaw. "This isn't about eagerness. It's about business."
She tilted her head, studying me, before her lips curved into something too pleased. "Oh?" she mused. "Then why did you look so pissed when I spoke to the bartender?"
My fingers curled into fists.
She was baiting me. And damn it, it was working.
I took a step forward, lowering my voice. "I wasn't pissed."
Her smile widened. " Are you fine? You're clenching your jaw."
I exhaled slowly. "You think you're clever, don't you?" I was sure she wanted to get a reaction out of me. I didn't want to give her the upper hand but with her looking and dressed like this, resistance was a major issue.
She shrugged. "I know I am." She leaned forward slightly, voice teasing. "You could've followed me, you know."
I moved before I could stop myself. One step closer. Just enough to make her tilt her head back to hold my gaze. "And what would you have done if I had?" I murmured.
Her smirk flickered. Just for a second. And that's when it hit me. She was as affected by this as I was.
This wasn't just a game anymore. This was dangerous. We stared at each other for what felt like hours. Everything else blurred. I stared right into her eyes, the atmosphere tense and warm. I was enveloped in her intoxicating beauty and I couldn't look away.
My head was screaming to abort but I was stuck. She had me locked. This girl didn't know how much she confused and infuriated me.
"What are we doing Damian?" She asked as I moved closer into her space.
My eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips. They were so full, and inviting. I stared down at her, my self control seeping through little cracks. If I didn't step away I knew I was going to do something I was going to regret.
All the bells in my brain warned me to leave. I couldn't. All my right senses leaving as I looked at her short figure. The top exposed a silver of skin as she stood.
My hands as if controlled moved to her side. I had to know what her skin felt like in my arms, even if it was for a second.
The moment my fingers grazed the side of her stomach, a jolt ripped through me hot, sharp, and electric. It wasn't just a spark; it was a surge, a raw, consuming current that left me breathless.
She tensed, just for a second, and I felt it, the way her body reacted to my touch, the way my own pulse slammed against my ribs. The air between us thickened, charged with something unspoken, something undeniable. If I didn't let her go I was going to do something I wasn't ready for.
I slowly pulled away like I was trying to memorise how she looked in that moment. I stared t her intensely and said.
"The wedding is happening. Start preparing."
Her eyes followed me as I turned to leave, my pulse pounding against my ribs.
And as I walked away, for the first time, I wasn't sure if I was running from her or from myself.