Isabelle’s POV
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not because I couldn’t.
But because I wouldn’t.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Damion’s face—sober, serious, stripped of every layer of the man I once knew. Not the cold executive. Not the man tangled up in his father’s lies or Kaia’s games.
Just him.
Apologizing.
Offering help.
And it made everything so much more complicated.
Because now I didn’t just have enemies at my back. I had memories clawing at my chest.
I paced the length of my bedroom, arms folded tight against my ribs, half-wishing I could peel the moment off my skin like old paint.
It should’ve been easy to push him away.
But when he said my name… it still did something to me.
“If you ever need anything…”
I hated how sincere he sounded.
I hated that I believed him.
B
