Nicole
I should have listened to Weslee.
Coming back to the villa was the last thing I wanted right now.
I couldn't bear to face Damien—though honestly, I doubted he'd even come home tonight.
He was probably still at the hospital with Yelena, holding her hand while doctors tended to her injuries.
"Harry," I said, my voice slightly slurred from the alcohol, "do you have time for another drink?"
What I really needed was to forget everything—to drown the image of Damien carrying Yelena away while leaving me to face the whispers and stares alone.
"Sure," Harry replied softly. He understood I was in no mood for lectures or sympathy.
He was simply there, offering silent support when I needed it most.
We soon found ourselves in a bar with pulsing neon lights and music
