The photo haunted me. Even after Sofia deleted it and blocked the number, the image lingered, Damien’s hand on another woman’s waist, that intimate smile. I replayed his visit on loop, the way his voice had dropped into that possessive growl, promising to remind me exactly who I belonged to, the heat of his body crowding mine against the couch. My traitorous body had responded even through the pain, a familiar slickness between my thighs at the memory of his thick c**k stretching me raw.
But the evidence was there. He was moving on. Lila’s words weren’t just venom, they were reality.
I barely slept that night, curled on the couch with a hand pressed to my stomach. The future felt heavier than ever. No Damien. No wedding. Just me, fighting for my law degree and whatever scraps of stabilit
