Chapter 2. Marked by His touch

Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting faint golden streaks across the smooth expanse of Damien’s bedroom. I stared at the ceiling, feeling the unfamiliar weight of silk sheets draped across my bare skin.

The memories from last night lingered like the fading scent of his cologne on the pillow beside me – the heat of his touch, the way his mouth had claimed every inch of me, the rough edge in his voice when he whispered my name against my skin.

I turned my head, but the other side of the bed was empty. Cold.

Good, I told myself, swallowing the strange ache curling in my chest. It was easier this way. A clean break. One night and nothing more.

Slipping out from under the sheets, I scanned the room for my dress. It lay in a crumpled heap near the door. My shoes were half-hidden beneath the armchair, and my purse… somewhere.

I gathered my clothes, my bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floors. Every move felt too loud in the eerie silence that filled the penthouse.

I couldn’t afford to be here when he returned.

The clock on the nightstand read 7:14 AM. I still had time to make it to campus. Maybe even grab a coffee.

I hurried, sliding into my dress and smoothing the wrinkles as best as I could. I found my purse on the edge of the kitchen counter and glanced at the sleek space that felt more like a luxury showroom than someone’s home.

My gaze lingered on the heavy glass decanter on the bar cart, the half-filled glass beside it. He hadn’t been gone long.

Don’t overthink it, I reminded myself, clutching the strap of my purse tighter.

I didn’t belong in his world.

But just as I reached the elevator, a low voice echoed from behind me.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

I froze, pulse quickening.

Damien emerged from the hall, freshly showered, his dark hair damp and tousled. A towel hung loosely around his waist, low enough to leave little to the imagination. He looked every bit as dangerous and irresistible as he had last night.

I forced a tight smile. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he didn’t quite believe me. He stepped closer, and I swore the air shifted around him – heavy, commanding.

“You weren’t going to leave a note?” His voice was softer now, but something about it felt like a challenge.

I gripped the elevator button, watching the floor numbers flicker slowly.

“It was just one night,” I said, keeping my tone even.

Damien’s gaze darkened. “Was it?”

My breath caught. The space between us felt too small, the heat of his body too close.

“Don’t overcomplicate it,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face, and I hated how my body responded – how every nerve came alive at the faintest contact.

“I never do,” Damien said, but his fingers lingered, tracing the edge of my jaw. “But I don’t think I’m finished with you yet, Ava.”

The elevator dinged softly. I took a step back, slipping inside before I could lose what little composure I had left.

As the doors closed, Damien’s eyes held mine, and I knew – I wasn’t finished with him either.

---

I was late.

By the time I made it to campus, my hair still slightly damp from a rushed shower at home, Professor Carter was already halfway through his lecture.

I slipped quietly into the back row, hoping to avoid attention.

“You’re glowing,” Lila whispered, leaning toward me with a knowing smirk.

I shot her a glare, opening my laptop. “I’m not glowing.”

“Oh, you definitely are.” She nudged my arm playfully. “So? Was he worth it?”

I exhaled sharply, refusing to meet her gaze. “It was just one night.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously, Lila.” I kept my eyes on the screen, pretending to focus. “It’s not like that. We barely talked.”

“But you definitely did something other than talking.” She laughed quietly.

I couldn’t deny it, and the way my body still hummed with the ghost of Damien’s touch made it impossible to forget.

Before I could respond, Professor Carter’s voice called out from the front of the room.

“Miss Sinclair, care to enlighten us on the intricacies of New York contract law?”

I stiffened, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes turning toward me.

I cleared my throat, straightening in my seat. “The enforceability of verbal contracts depends largely on the presence of mutual assent, but New York law requires specific types of agreements to be in writing under the Statute of Frauds.”

Professor Carter’s gaze lingered for a moment, but he nodded approvingly. “Good.”

I let out a quiet breath, sinking back into my seat.

Lila grinned beside me. “Look at you, acing law by day and seducing billionaires by night.”

“Lila.” I nudged her. “Let it go.”

But even as I said the words, Damien’s face flashed through my mind – the intensity of his eyes, the roughness of his hands, and the way he made me feel things I’d sworn I’d never let myself feel.

I wasn’t sure how to let him go.

---

It was past eight when I stepped out of the library, the cold night air biting at my exposed skin. My coat wasn’t nearly warm enough, and I regretted not bringing gloves.

I hurried toward the subway entrance, already dreading the long ride home.

“Ava.”

The sound of my name stopped me dead in my tracks.

Damien leaned casually against a sleek black car parked at the curb, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. His suit from earlier was gone, replaced by dark jeans and a fitted shirt that somehow made him look even more dangerous.

“How do you keep showing up everywhere?” I asked, pulling my coat tighter around me.

His lips curved into a slow smirk. “Maybe I like the view.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stalking isn’t exactly charming.”

“I wasn’t stalking.” Damien pushed off the car, closing the distance between us in two long strides. “I had business nearby. I thought I’d offer you a ride.”

I glanced at the subway entrance just beyond him, weighing my options.

He must have sensed my hesitation. “It’s late. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe,” Damien said, brushing his knuckles over the side of my cheek. “But I’d rather not take that chance.”

I should’ve refused. I should’ve walked away.

Instead, I let him open the car door for me.

The moment I slid inside, I knew this wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.