It struck him then, in the stillness—that just as her journal was her quiet world, Maya herself had become his. Since the first moment he laid eyes on her, something inside him had shifted; the chaos around him dulled, the static in his mind faded, and all that remained was her.
She wasn’t his weakness; she was his poison—sweet enough to ruin him, potent enough to sharpen his every instinct. She made him want to protect, to claim, to destroy anyone foolish enough to touch what was his. She gave him the edge he never knew he needed.
Half an hour later, the bathroom door creaked open, and Damien was hit with the maddening scent of lavender and vanilla—her addictive, intoxicating fragrance. Maya stepped out dressed in a flare floral printed summer midi sundress that swayed gently around her
