The night before

The club was alive with thunderous bass, red lights flickering like heartbeats against the walls, and bodies pressed together in dizzying rhythm. Laughter, shouts, and music filled the air. Yet, in the VIP section, Damien sat like a sovereign upon his throne, untouched by chaos. A glass of apple juice swirled lazily in his hand, his cold gaze watching everything. Men bowed, women whispered, and still he remained untouchable, an emperor among mortals.

Marco had already left his side to chase a girl he’d been eyeing for weeks, leaving Damien surrounded only by silence and shadow.

Then he saw her.

At first, she was just another girl weaving through the dance floor. But when her head lifted and her eyes locked with his, fragile, trembling, yet shimmering with defiance. his glass froze in his hand.

Lily.

“What in God’s name is she doing here?” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening.

But before he could even rise, he noticed the wolves. Three men circled her like predators who had scented weakness. She laughed nervously when one handed her a drink, but she declined. Another shoved it toward her, and she took a tiny sip, trying to be polite, but regret followed instantly. They drew closer, their smiles sharpening.

“Come on, princess,” one sneered, brushing her arm.

“I said no,” Lily replied, her voice wavering. She took a step back. “Please, I’m not interested.”

Their laughter rose. “Not interested? A goddess like you in a club like this? Don’t play hard to get.”

Her chest tightened. The music blurred into background noise. Panic rose like a flood inside her, dredging up memories she had buried. Her breaths came shallow and quick, her body trembling. She turned, desperately scanning for help, and her eyes found Damien again.

His brows furrowed. His glass hit the table with a sharp clink. He stood.

Lily stumbled backward, trying to escape, but the men caged her in. “Just one dance, sweetheart. One night. No one says no to us.”

“Stay away from me!” she cried, her voice breaking.

She turned, trying to run…but her heel caught on the step. She gasped, her body pitching forward.

Strong arms caught her mid-fall.

Her tiny frame pressed against Damien’s chest, his scent of smoke and leather wrapping around her. And in her panic, without thinking, she clung to him and cried out:

“This is my boyfriend!”

The men froze. For a heartbeat, then laughter erupted.

“Boyfriend? Him? Sweetheart, do you even know who you’re lying to?” one of them mocked, pointing at Damien with drunken boldness.

They didn’t recognize him yet.

Lily, trembling, looked up at Damien with tear-brimmed eyes and whispered, “Please… just play along.”

Before he could answer, she stood on her tiptoes, her lips brushing his in a desperate kiss. It was clumsy, trembling, unpracticed,but painfully sincere. Her first kiss.

Damien stiffened, shocked. But then, slowly, dangerously, his hand slid to her waist. He kissed her back, effortlessly, like a man who knew no fear, no hesitation. Her knees nearly gave way, and he lifted her easily, her legs instinctively wrapping around him.

He broke the kiss, his glare snapping to the men.

“Back. Off.” His voice was low, guttural, a warning that carried like thunder.

They smirked. “Or what? You’ll…”

He raised his hand.

From the shadows, his bodyguards appeared like wraiths, dressed in black, eyes cold as death. The men’s laughter died instantly, their drunken bravado crumbling.

Recognition struck them. Their faces drained of color.

“The Reaper…” one whispered, his voice cracking.

Damien’s gaze was a blade, sharp enough to slice through bone. “Touch her again, and you won’t leave this building alive.”

Their bravado evaporated. They stumbled back, muttering apologies, vanishing into the crowd with their tails between their legs.

But Lily didn’t notice. Her arms were still tight around his neck, her face buried in his chest.

Only when silence fell did she pull back, cheeks blazing. She hurriedly climbed down, smoothing her dress. “I-I’m sorry… I… I just… panicked…”

Damien smirked, leaning close. “Panicked? Or did you just want to kiss me?”

Her eyes widened. “What? N-no!”

“Mm.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “You’re terrible at kissing, by the way.”

Her jaw dropped, her face burning red. “You..you are arrogant !! I didn’t ask you to kiss me back!”

“Oh?” His voice dropped, velvety with danger. “You wrapped your legs around me. That didn’t look like a no.”

“You!! ” she stomped her foot, flustered, eyes shimmering with indignation.

He leaned back lazily, enjoying every second of her reaction. She was drunk, flushed, trembling, yet still beautiful, still fiery, still Lily.

“Adorable,” he murmured under his breath.

She scowled. “I don’t need your teasing! I’m leaving!”

She spun and stormed off, her small frame weaving through the crowd.

Damien watched her go, a strange heat stirring in his chest. He had saved countless women, seen countless faces, but hers lingered like fire in his blood.

And as the music rose again, he whispered to himself, lips curling into a dangerous smile:

“You won’t escape me, lily”

The bass still thundered inside the club, but Damien’s night had already been rewritten. His apple juice sat abandoned, his dark eyes fixed on the doors Lily had just stormed through.

He leaned back into the velvet couch of the VIP lounge, the lights slicing shadows across his sharp face. The corner of his lips lifted into a slow, devilish smirk.

“She kissed me,” he muttered to himself, almost as if savoring a forbidden secret. His finger tapped the rim of his glass, thoughtful. “Her first kiss… stolen by me. And she doesn’t even know what she’s done.”

He lifted his hand slightly. Three of his guards immediately appeared, heads bowed.

“You two,” he said, pointing at two women dressed in sleek black suits, their hair tied back tight. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of death. “Follow her. Don’t let her notice you. Make sure she gets home safely. If anyone dares touch her…” His jaw tensed, his smirk cutting sharper. “…break their bones.”

“Yes, boss.” They melted into the crowd.

His gaze slid back to the one male guard standing at attention. “As for you,” Damien’s tone darkened, lethal. “Find those bastards who touched her tonight. Drag them out of their filthy holes. I want them breathing, but broken. Keep them for me.”

The guard swallowed hard, bowing. “Understood.”

“Do not kill them,” Damien added, his smirk returning, dangerous and amused. “That pleasure is mine.”

Outside, Rome’s cool midnight air.

Lily stumbled a little as she walked home, her heels clicking unevenly on the pavement. Her cheeks still burned from the kiss, her lips tingling like fire.

She kept replaying it in her mind, over and over. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her. The way he’d glared at those men until they ran. The way her heart nearly burst from her chest.

Her hand brushed her lips unconsciously. Why… why did I do that?

Behind her, two female guards walked in silence at a distance, their sharp eyes scanning every shadow, every alley, every stranger who came too close. A black car trailed farther back, the male guard behind the wheel, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

At the shop, late at night.

The lights were still on. Lucas paced back and forth like a restless storm. The second Lily pushed through the door, he nearly exploded.

“Lily! Finally!” His voice cracked, half with worry, half with anger. “Where the hell have you been? Do you even know what time it is?”

She blinked at him, startled, her small hands clutching her bag. “Lucas… I…. Ermmm… I’m..”

“You look flushed!” He stormed toward her, his hands hovering like he wanted to shake her but didn’t dare. “Your face is burning red, your hair is a mess, and your eyes, God, Lily, did you drink? Did someone touch you? Did something happen?”

Her heart skipped violently. The memory of Damien’s lips pressed to hers, his overwhelming presence, slammed into her mind. Her cheeks heated more.

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

“Fine?” Lucas barked a laugh, running his hand through his hair. “Do you even know how many hours I’ve been waiting? I thought something bad happened! And now you come back looking like this and say you’re fine?”

She flinched at the sharpness of his tone, and guilt pricked her. But she couldn’t tell him. Not about Damien. Not about the kiss. Not about the danger.

“I said I’m fine, Lucas.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “Don’t ask me anymore.”

Lucas stared at her, his chest heaving, his eyes searching hers. “You’re hiding something. I can see it. Lily…” His voice broke softer. “…please don’t shut me out. You know I can’t stand it when you do this.”

Her throat tightened. She turned her face away, her hands trembling. “Not everything needs to be explained.”

She brushed past him and disappeared into her room, closing the door gently behind her.

Lucas stood frozen, fists clenching, frustration boiling inside him. He wanted to scream, to demand answers, but something in her eyes fragile, trembling, almost pleading stopped him cold.

He slumped into the chair, groaning, burying his face in his hands.

The shop computer pinged. A notification popped up on the screen.

New Emails (5):

• Versace HQ Milan – Exclusive Modeling Proposal for Lily

• Dior Paris – Urgent: We want Lily as our Ambassador

• Valentino Roma – A once-in-a-lifetime contract offer

• Prada Milano – We are willing to wait for her answer

• Cartier Paris – A personal invitation to join our campaign

Lucas clicked through them, his eyes widening with each line. They weren’t just offers. They were begging. Promises of wealth, fame, prestige.

He looked toward Lily’s closed door, his voice a whisper. “Why, Lily… why are you refusing all of this? You’re throwing away the whole world, and I don’t even know why.”

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