A LINE CROSSED

Sienna paced the length of her bedroom, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The minutes stretched endlessly, and the silence in the penthouse was almost suffocating.

Damien had left without telling her where he was going.

And that terrified her more than anything.

She had seen the look in his eyes before he walked out dark, controlled, but beneath it, there had been something else. Something dangerous.

A man like Damien didn’t just handle things. He eliminated them.

A shiver ran through her.

Her phone sat untouched on the nightstand, but the urge to call him was overwhelming. She knew he probably wouldn’t answer.

Still, she picked it up, hesitating only a moment before dialing his number.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then straight to voicemail.

Sienna clenched her jaw.

Something was wrong.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, gripping her phone like it held all the answers. The uncertainty was gnawing at her, an ache in her chest that wouldn’t go away.

Then, finally, the front door opened.

She spun around just as Damien stepped inside.

Relief flooded her so fast it left her breathless.

But that relief quickly turned to concern when she saw him.

His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up, and there was a faint smear of something dark on his knuckles. His expression was unreadable, his eyes stormy.

He looked like a man who had just come from war.

Sienna swallowed hard. “What happened?”

Damien didn’t answer right away. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling them down as he took slow, measured steps toward her.

She didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

“I told you to lock the doors,” he finally said, his voice eerily calm.

Her stomach twisted. “I did.”

His eyes flickered over her, assessing her like he was making sure she was still in one piece. “Good.”

Her pulse pounded.

Damien was always controlled, always precise in his actions. But this was different.

His movements were slower. Tighter. Like he was holding something back.

Sienna took a hesitant step closer. “Damien…”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

Then, suddenly, he was right in front of her.

His fingers brushed over her jaw, tilting her chin up. “Are you scared of me?”

The question sent a jolt through her.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Damien’s touch was gentle, but there was something volatile beneath the surface. Something raw and consuming.

Was she scared?

No.

But she was scared of how much she needed him.

She shook her head slowly. “No.”

Something flickered in his expression.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful.

It was desperate.

Like he was unraveling. Like she was the only thing tethering him to reality.

Sienna gasped against his mouth, but he didn’t give her a chance to pull away not that she wanted to. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she melted into the heat of his body.

The world outside ceased to exist.

It was just them.

Just the fire between them, the unspoken words, the dangerous pull neither of them could resist.

When Damien finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, his forehead resting against hers.

His grip on her was tight, like he was afraid she’d disappear.

“I don’t know how to be gentle with you,” he admitted, his voice rough. “Not when I know what it feels like to lose control.”

Sienna’s heart pounded.

She should be careful.

She should protect herself.

But she didn’t want to.

Because the truth was… she didn’t want him to be gentle.

She wanted this.

All of it.