*Isabella's POV*
"Okay, enough of that," he added, his voice a low, husky rumble that was still thick with sleep. He took the Nutella jar from my hand, placing it back on the nightstand. He leaned in, his thumb gently wiping a smudge of chocolate from my bottom lip. The gesture was so small, so... domestic, it made my heart do a painful little flip-flop.
He pulled me into his arms, turning and reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. The room was plunged into a soft, intimate darkness, only a sliver of moonlight cutting across the floor. I rested my head on his chest, the steady, rhythmic thump of his heart a soothing sound against my ear.
"I'm happy we talked," I said, my voice a soft whisper in the quiet. "I'm still dying to know all your secrets, but... I know you're going to tell me everything at your own pace." I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. "I don't know if it's the night... or me speaking... but I feel like I could tell you everything."
"And you can," he said, his voice a low, gentle murmur against my hair. "Please know that you can tell me everything. And thank you for not pressuring me." He planted a soft, lingering kiss on my forehead, then snuggled me closer, his hand tracing slow, soothing circles on my back.
I don't remember when I last felt this relaxed in my whole life. The constant hum of anxiety that usually lived in my head was just... gone. "You know, Isabella," he said, his voice a low, hesitant sound. "I don't remember when I last felt so relaxed. Thank you." He'd stolen the words right out of my brain, a perfect echo of my own feelings.
"No, thank you, Damien," I said, my voice thick with an emotion I couldn't quite name. "I'm not sure it shows, but my brain is constantly my enemy. I overthink, I worry too much about myself, my future. But in this very moment, my brain is quiet. And that's thanks to you." I could feel myself drifting off to sleep, a heavy, peaceful weight settling over me. He pulled me closer, his grip a secure, protective band around my waist.
It's interesting how the same man who'd completely ruined my body, who'd fucked me with a rough, possessive intensity that left me boneless and aching, also has the power to put me back together again. How it feels, with him... it's fucking bliss. "If this is a dream, I never wanna wake up," he mumbled, his grip tightening, pulling me flush against him in the dark. And in that moment, held in his arms, I knew I never wanted to either.
In the morning, I woke up to the awful sound of my phone ringing, a shrill, insistent buzz that sliced right through the most peaceful sleep I'd had in years. "Where the fuck is it?" I groaned, forcing my eyes open to look around the unfamiliar, luxurious room of his bedroom. My head was on his chest, his arm a heavy, warm weight around me.
"Who the fuck is calling at this hour?" Damien grumbled, his voice a low, sleepy rumble that vibrated right through me.
He sat up, his muscles rippling, and I found my phone near my pile of clothes from the night before. "It's... It's Jacob," I said, my heart doing a weird little flip-flop. I answered the video call, not even thinking that I was fucking naked, sitting in bed next to his brother.
"Hi, sweetheart," Jacob's cheerful face filled my screen, a bright, happy contrast to the dim, intimate room. He blew me a kiss.
"Hi, Jacob," I greeted back, trying to act casual.
"Sorry for the early hours, but I had something I was excited to tell you," he said, his eyes sparkling.
"Uhm, well, I'm here with Damien," I replied, and I noticed a slight change in Jacob's expression, but it was gone as fast as it came.
"Good! I need to ask him something too," Jacob said happily. "So, next week is your 30th, right, big bro?" he asked, directing the question to Damien, who was now sitting up beside me, a dark, unreadable look on his face.
"Yay," Damien said behind me, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, Jo has put together a party in the Hamptons for us" Jacob announced, beaming. "It's gonna be epic!"
"For me?" Damien asked, his brow furrowed. "You know I don't like parties."
"Okay, for me," Jacob said, rolling his eyes at his brother. "But you have to come. It's your birthday too."
"We haven't celebrated our birthday together since middle school. Why now?" Damien retorted, his voice laced with a sudden, sharp annoyance.
"Because now, we have Isabella," Jacob said, and his words, meant to be sweet, made me feel suddenly, painfully self-conscious. Like I was a prize they were fighting over.
"Isabella, you should go. He obviously called to invite you anyway," Damien said, his voice flat, dismissive. He was already pushing me away.
"Wait, but Damien..." I was saying when he cut me off.
"I have to go to Nicolai's anyway, he invited me to poker night," Damien said, already swinging his legs out of bed. It was such a transparent lie, I almost wanted to laugh at the pathetic excuse.
"Poker with the Russian's?" Jacob explained with a chuckle, not seeming to suspect a thing. "What are you up to?" he added, his attention turning back to me.
And just like that, I was left in the middle again. It felt like Damien's, building his walls back up, shutting me out, pushing me towards his brother. And Jacob, completely unaware, inviting me to a party I wasn't even sure I wanted to go to anymore.
"Chill, brother. I'm not the one with a big drug scandal inside my business," he said, his voice dripping with a sarcasm so thick you could choke on it. Jacob just rolled his eyes on the screen, a gesture so familiar it was almost comforting.
"I did nothing wrong," Jacob retorted, his own voice tight with defensiveness.
"Are you two done?" I asked, my voice laced with an annoyance that was purely mine. I was so fucking tired of their childish rivalries.
"Bottom line, Jacob, why did you call?" I cut in, not wanting to listen to them bicker. "To invite you to my birthday party in the Hamptons. Next week," he replied, his voice brightening again, trying to pull me back into his excitement.
"The Hamptons? Isn't that a bit too... domineering for you?" Damien asked, his voice a low, skeptical drawl from behind me.
"Yeah, it is, but I trust Jo She says it's good for business. We have a reputation to maintain. We'll have a luxurious party to show that everything is fine," Jacob explained, his tone all business-savvy.
"She's right," Damien said, and I could hear him getting out of bed, the rustle of sheets a sound of finality. "But I hope you understand that I can't come. I have business that night." He paused, and then he delivered the next line, a clean, fucking kill shot. "Isabella knew about this already."
My head snapped around to look at him, but he was already walking towards the bathroom, his back a rigid, dismissive line.
"Also," he added, his voice cold as he reached the bathroom door. "Isabella doesn't want us to make it public, so I'll be the third wheel. You guys have fun." And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft, final click.
"Damien..." I called after him, my voice soft, a pathetic plea. But I got no reply. The silence that followed was heavier, more suffocating than before. He had just made a decision for me. Lied about me. And pushed me away. Again.
I turned back to the phone, to Jacob's waiting, cheerful face. My own felt like a stone mask. "Jacob, I'll come to the party. Can I?" I asked, my voice flat, the words tasting like ash.
"Of course! Have a good day, doll," he said, blowing me a final, triumphant kiss through the screen before he hung up.
And I was left there, alone in Damien's bed, in his room that suddenly felt cold and unwelcoming. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of a shower starting in the bathroom.