Damon and I are in the elevator heading to his suite. I’m trying to play it cool, even though my insides feel like they’re twisting themselves into some kind of anxious origami.
God, why did I agree to this? The moment he told me to hand Shantelle my key and announced I’d be staying with him, it felt like a victory. Watching Shantelle’s face twist into barely contained rage had been a moment I’d savor for years. But then… that look. That calculating, venomous look she gave me before storming off. It wasn’t just anger; it was a promise. A silent, terrifying promise that this wasn’t over.
The elevator dings, the sound startling me out of my thoughts. Damon steps out, and I trail after him. My mouth feels dry, but I force myself to speak.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“What’s not a
