They spent the rest of that day orbiting each other in a fragile sort of peace. Damian didn't leave her side. When his phone buzzed, he ignored it. When his assistant tried to call through on the intercom downstairs, he silenced it without even checking who it was.
Alina tried to pretend it soothed her. That the tension didn't still coil tight in her chest every time she remembered the cold gleam in that woman's eyes.
Celeste.
The name alone felt like a knife against her ribs.
---
Later that afternoon, Damian insisted they go out — somewhere far from his sleek, echoing townhouse, from reminders of old lovers and whispered threats.
He drove them out of the city to a private stretch of coastal cliff. The wind off the water was cool, whipping Alina's hair around her face. Damian tucked a strand behind her ear, then linked their fingers together tightly, as though daring her to slip away.
They walked for a long time without speaking. Only when they stopped to stand at the edge of the rocky overlook, the sea crashing below them, did he finally break the silence.
---
"I wasn't lying when I said she could use people against me," Damian said quietly, eyes on the horizon. "The men I do business with — they're not saints. And Celeste knows where the cracks are. Who to whisper to, who to threaten or bribe."
Alina shivered, not entirely from the wind. "So this isn't just jealousy."
"No." He squeezed her hand, hard. "She's smart enough to see that you're more than a distraction to me. That makes you leverage."
"So what happens now?" she asked, heart beating fast. "Do you push me away to keep me safe? Is that what you're going to decide for me?"
His jaw worked. "Every instinct I have tells me I should. But I can't. I can't let you go."
---
It was terrifying how much she wanted that answer — how much she wanted him, complications and all. Even as her mind screamed that she should be cautious, her body leaned into him, drawn by a force bigger than either of them.
He looked down at her then, eyes dark with hunger and something painfully tender.
"Come here," Damian said roughly.
---
He backed her toward the sleek black car, pressing her against the cool metal. His mouth found hers in a bruising kiss, hands roaming possessively over her hips. When she whimpered into his mouth, he pulled back just enough to whisper:
"Tell me you're still mine."
Alina swallowed, voice shaking. "I've always been yours."
A low, almost tortured sound escaped him. He fumbled open the back door and guided her inside, following her in one urgent motion. The door slammed shut behind them, cutting off the world.
---
They didn't bother with finesse. Damian pulled her onto his lap, kissing her with a fervor that bordered on savage. His hands slipped under her dress, dragging her panties down her thighs.
"Need you now," he growled. "Need to remind myself you're still here. Still choosing me."
"Always," she gasped, rocking against the hard line of his arousal. "Damian, please…"
He didn't tease. Didn't make her wait. He pushed into her with one smooth, desperate thrust that stole both their breaths. Alina clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, hips moving in frantic little circles to take him deeper.
---
It was messy and raw, the car rocking slightly with each thrust. But it was also a plea — his and hers both — for something solid to hold onto amid the chaos waiting for them outside.
When they came, it was together, muffled cries lost in the small, steamy space. Damian held her so tightly after, arms locked around her back, that it almost hurt.
"I'm not letting anything take you from me," he whispered into her hair. "Not her. Not business. Not the fucking world."
Her throat closed around a rush of emotion. She pressed her lips to his temple, feeling the faint tremble that betrayed just how close to unraveling he truly was.
"Then we'll face it all together," Alina whispered. "No matter what comes."
---
They stayed tangled like that until their breathing calmed. When Damian finally pulled back to look at her, there was a haunted softness in his eyes — as though he couldn't believe she was real.
"We should go home," he said quietly. "Before I'm tempted to keep you here forever."
She smiled faintly. "You say that like it would be a bad thing."
His answering laugh was low, strained — but genuine. "Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea."
---
They drove back to the city in comfortable silence, Alina's hand resting over Damian's on the gearshift. But beneath that quiet lay a promise forged in bruises, gasps, and whispered confessions.
Whatever storms waited for them — Celeste's schemes, the shadows of Damian's empire, the fears still caged inside both of them — they would weather them together.
Or they would break trying.