Elara
I told myself the first rule the moment Damian appeared in the hallway.
Act like I don’t know him.
Not because I wanted to hurt him or pretend he didn’t exist, but because there were too many eyes on us, and too many questions I didn’t have the courage to answer.
Whatever had happened between us before didn’t belong here.
Not in this place, not in this version of me standing under dim bar lights in clothes that felt like someone else’s skin.
So when Damian stepped between me and Caleb, I forced my expression to stay neutral.
Like he was just another man in the room.
Like my heart hadn’t already betrayed me by reacting before I could stop it.
“I’m interested in her,” Damian said.
The words landed cleanly, controlled, almost casual.
But the room shifted anyway.
Caleb let out a short laugh, like he didn’t take it seriously.
“You?
Since when do you get involved in these things?”
Damian didn’t even look at him at first.
His attention stayed on me, steady and unreadable in a way that made my throat tighten.
“Since now,” he said simply.
Caleb studied him for a moment longer, then glanced at me as if reassessing the entire situation.
“She works here.
She’s part of the service.”
”That’s not how this works,” Damian replied, finally turning his gaze toward him.
“Not tonight.”
There was no rise in his voice.
No visible anger.
That was what made it unsettling.
He didn’t argue like someone trying to win.
He spoke like someone stating a conclusion that didn’t require approval.
Caleb’s smile thinned slightly.
“You’re serious.”
”I am,” Damian said.
The silence that followed felt heavier than anything earlier that night.
Then Damian turned slightly toward me.
“Come with me.”
I blinked, but then found myself moving before I had fully decided to.
I walked past Caleb without looking at him.
My steps were controlled, but my hands weren’t.
They were cold, slightly trembling, still carrying the aftermath of everything that had happened.
The hallway felt longer on the way out.
Damian walked beside me without speaking at first, giving me space in a way I didn’t expect from him.
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel safer or more aware of him.
Only when we were further from the noise of the room did he finally speak.
“Why are you working there?” he asked.
His tone wasn’t harsh or judgmental.
It was something closer to curiosity, but grounded enough that it felt heavier than casual conversation.
I kept my eyes forward.
“I didn’t know what kind of place it was.”
That made him glance at me briefly.
“You didn’t know?” he repeated.
“I thought it was just a bar job,” I admitted, the words coming out more honestly than I intended.
“My coworker told me it was good pay and simple work.
I needed extra income, so I didn’t ask too many questions.
I just… accepted it.”
The admission made something uncomfortable settle in my chest.
Not shame exactly.
More like clarity I hadn’t wanted to face earlier.
Damian didn’t respond immediately.
When he did, his voice was quieter.
“You should be more careful about what you agree to without checking.”
I almost laughed, but it came out as something softer.
“I know that now.”
”Why don’t you just let your boyfriend help you if you’re that short on money?” Damian asked, his tone even, like it was a simple gap in logic he couldn’t ignore rather than a personal intrusion.
I glanced at him, caught off guard by the question, then quickly looked forward again as if that would steady my thoughts.
“I didn’t say I was short on money because I need someone to rescue me,” I replied carefully, my voice tightening with quiet pride.
“I have a job.
I can earn my own money.
I don’t need to rely on anyone else just because things are difficult right now.”
Damian didn’t respond immediately, and the silence that followed made me more aware of how firm my answer had sounded even to my own ears.
“You’re stubborn,” he said after a moment.
“I’m practical,” I corrected.
A faint pause, then something that almost sounded like amusement.
“Same thing, depending on who you ask.”
We reached the entrance of the bar and the moment the cold night wind hit my skin, I hesitated at the door.
“Do you want me to take you home?” he asked.
It should have been an easy refusal.
I should have called a ride, walked away, kept distance between us like I had originally intended.
But the truth was, I was tired.
Not just physically, but in a way that made every decision feel heavier than it should have been.
And there was also the simple fact that going home alone dressed like this at this hour didn’t feel safe.
So I nodded slowly.
“Okay.
Just… drop me off.
That’s all.”
He didn’t comment on the hesitation.
He just turned slightly and led the way toward his car.
The walk felt longer than necessary and I became aware of how exposed I felt.
Without thinking, I lifted my hand slightly toward my chest, trying to cover myself even a little.
Damian glanced at me.
Then, without saying anything, he took off his suit jacket and placed it over my shoulders.
The warmth of it surprised me.
It carried his scent faintly, clean and subtle, something controlled and expensive in a way I didn’t know how to describe.
I pulled it tighter instinctively.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t respond immediately.
He just adjusted the jacket slightly so it stayed in place better.
Then, in a lower tone, he said, “I don’t see the need to cover up while talking to me.” He glanced at me, eyes lowering down my chest, which was now covered with his jacket.
“I’ve already seen and even touched everything.”
My face burned instantly.
I looked away.
“You didn’t have to say it like it’s funny.”
A pause, then something that sounded faintly amused.
“It is a little funny.”
I sighed and tightened my grip on his jacket.
“I won’t go back here ever again.”
He nodded.
“As you should.”