The next morning dawned gray and heavy, clouds pressing low over the city skyline. Damian was already up, phone pressed to his ear, pacing by the window with a rigid tension that sent dread curling through Alina's stomach.
She lay in bed, half watching him, half pretending to still be asleep. But she couldn't ignore the clipped edge to his voice, the way he barked orders that sounded anything but legal.
"Pull the offshore assets. Freeze every account tied to their shell companies. If they want to play games with me, let's see how they like being bled dry."
He paused, listening, then his tone dropped dangerously soft. "No, Marcus. We don't warn them. We cripple them."
---
A shiver chased down Alina's spine. This was the side of Damian most people feared — the cold, calculating predator who had clawed his way to power without mercy.
She'd known it existed. But knowing and seeing were entirely different.
When he finally ended the call and turned, their eyes met. Something unspoken passed between them — guilt, fear, a raw need for reassurance.
"You heard all that?" he asked quietly.
Alina sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Enough to know you're starting a war."
"It was already a war," Damian said flatly. He crossed to the bed and sank down beside her, taking her hand. "I'm just making sure we're not the ones who lose."
---
She searched his face, heart aching at the hard lines etched around his mouth. "And what if it makes things worse? What if Celeste — or those investors — come after you even harder?"
His jaw tightened. "Then they'll learn exactly how ugly it can get when someone tries to take what's mine."
Alina's breath caught. Part of her recoiled from the cold certainty in his voice. But another part — the part that had always thrilled at his dark possessiveness — felt a pulse of heat low in her belly.
---
She swallowed. "Just promise me… if it ever comes down to it, you won't hide the danger from me again. I'd rather face it at your side than be left in the dark."
Damian's eyes burned with something fierce and troubled. "That might be the most terrifying thing you've ever said to me."
"Because you know it means I won't run," she whispered.
His hand came up to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing over her lower lip. "And I don't deserve that kind of loyalty."
"Maybe not. But you have it anyway."
---
His mouth crashed onto hers, and the kiss was nothing like gentle. It was savage, hungry, desperate — a silent plea not to let the shadows between them grow too large to cross.
He pushed her back into the pillows, hands roaming over her body as if needing to memorize every inch. When he entered her, it was with a punishing thrust that made them both moan.
But Alina didn't shy away. She wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting every deep, driving stroke, letting him anchor himself in the slick heat of her body.
---
"Say it," he rasped against her throat. "Tell me who you belong to."
"You," she gasped. "Always you."
His hand threaded into her hair, tugging her head back so he could see every shudder that crossed her face. "I swear to God, Alina, if anything ever happened to you…"
She cut him off with another kiss, fierce and trembling. "Then don't let it."
When they finally came, it was with a shared cry that felt almost like a vow — or a warning to anyone who might try to tear them apart.
---
Afterward, Damian lay with his forehead pressed to hers, both of them still struggling to catch their breath.
"There's more I have to tell you," he said finally, voice rough. "Things I've done. Deals I've made. Enemies I've created."
Alina's heart twisted. "Then tell me. Show me all the ugly parts. I'd rather know the whole of you — darkness included — than love some safe illusion."
His eyes closed, lashes trembling. When they opened again, they were glossy with a raw, almost pained tenderness.
"You have no idea what you're asking for," he whispered.
"Then show me," she whispered back.
And for the first time, Damian truly looked afraid.