Selene knew she was being watched.
Even as she stepped into the dimly lit café, the weight of someone's gaze pressed against her skin. It wasn't paranoia—she had learned to trust her instincts a long time ago.
She placed her order, keeping her posture relaxed as she glanced around. The café was quiet, the morning crowd having trickled away, leaving only a few scattered customers.
Then she saw him.
Damien.
He was sitting in the back, perfectly at ease, one arm draped over the chair beside him. Dressed in an expensive black suit, he looked every bit the powerful man he was. The kind of man who never lost. The kind of man who took what he wanted and destroyed anything that dared resist.
A slow smile curved his lips when their eyes met, and Selene's stomach clenched.
He had been waiting for her.
Swallowing down her unease, she took her coffee and walked past him, pretending not to care.
"Leaving so soon?" His voice was calm, smooth, but it sent a chill down her spine.
Selene froze for only a second before turning to face him. "What do you want, Damien?"
His smile didn't fade, but something dark flickered in his gaze. "Sit."
She considered ignoring him. Walking away. But she knew Damien well enough to understand that wouldn't be the end of it.
With a sigh, she slid into the seat across from him. "Say what you need to say."
Damien tilted his head, watching her like a predator amused by his prey's defiance. "You've been keeping interesting company lately."
Her pulse spiked. Kieran.
"I don't see how that's any of your business," she replied, keeping her voice even.
Damien leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You're still my wife."
Selene stiffened. "You lost the right to call me that when you—" She stopped herself, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her unravel.
Damien chuckled, low and knowing. "When I asked for an open marriage?" He shook his head. "Selene, don't be naive. You knew what you were getting into when you married me."
Her fingers curled into fists under the table. "No," she said softly, but with steel in her voice. "I thought I did. I was wrong."
His expression darkened. "And now? Do you think running to Kieran will save you?"
Selene flinched before she could stop herself, and Damien's smile widened.
"Ah," he murmured. "So it is about him."
She forced herself to meet his gaze, her anger pushing past her fear. "I don't belong to you, Damien."
Something flickered in his expression—something possessive, something dangerous.
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. "That's where you're wrong."
Selene felt her breath hitch, but before she could respond, a new presence filled the space.
A familiar, commanding presence.
"I don't remember inviting you to this conversation."
Kieran's voice was quiet, but it held an unmistakable warning.
Selene turned just as Kieran slid into the seat beside her, his body radiating tension. His dark gaze locked onto Damien's with a challenge that thickened the air between them.
Damien smirked, but there was something cold in his eyes. "Kieran. What a surprise."
Kieran leaned back, utterly calm, but his presence was a storm waiting to break. "You should leave."
Damien's smirk deepened. "Why? Are you afraid of a little conversation?"
Kieran didn't blink. "No. But I have a feeling you won't like where it ends."
Selene exhaled slowly, her heart pounding between them.
Damien studied Kieran for a long moment before turning to Selene. "I'll be seeing you soon, darling."
With that, he rose, adjusting his suit as if nothing had happened, and walked away.
Only when the café door shut behind him did Selene let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Kieran turned to her, his jaw tight. "Are you okay?"
Selene nodded, but the truth sat heavy in her chest.
She had crossed a line with Damien today—one she wasn't sure she could ever come back from.
And the worst part?
She wasn't sure she wanted to.