Page 199 of The Contract

Damien exhales, running a hand through his hair. For a man who is always so perfectly composed, he looks wrecked.

“Elena,” he starts, voice low, rough, like he’s been choking on this for days. “I was wrong. About everything.”

I lift my chin, crossing my arms over my chest, bracing myself for whatever version of the truth he’s about to feed me.

“You didn’t just call me a liar, Damien.” My voice is steady, but my hands are shaking as I hold myself. “You threw me out. You humiliated me. You—” I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “You didn’t even listen.”

That last part comes out as a whisper, my sorrow threatening to choke me.

“I know.” He steps forward—just the slightest movement, like he wants to reach for me—but I take a step back, my body going rigid before I can stop it.

It’s instinct. Reflex.

But the second I do it, something flickers across his face.

Something that guts him like I just drove a knife straight through his ribs.

He swallows hard, his hands sliding into his pockets, like he’s physically stopping himself from touching me. From closing the distance between us.

“I know,” he says again, his voice quieter now, like the weight of it is crushing him. “And I hate myself for it.”

I shake my head. Firm. Resolute. Even though inside? I’m seconds from shattering.

“I don’t need your self-loathing, Damien,” I whisper.

“Then what do you need?” His voice breaks, his chest rising and falling unsteadily. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me how to?—”

“You can’t.” The words slice through the air like a blade. Final. Absolute.

His jaw locks, like he was bracing for it, but it still hits him hard.

“Don’t say that.”

I can’t do this.

I can’t stand here and listen to him apologize, watch him look at me like he’s drowning and I’m the only thing that can save him.

I need to breathe. I need to get out of this moment before it pulls me under.

So I shift, forcing my focus away from him. Away from the desperate, haunted look in his eyes.

Instead, I gesture around us, my voice sharp.

“Why here, Damien?” I demand. “Why bring me to the one place I lost? The one thing that was taken from me?”

Something changes in his face.

A flicker of something else. Determination. Resolve.

“Because it’s yours, Elena.”

My breath catches.

“No.” I shake my head slowly, not daring to believe what he’s saying. “It’s not. Someone else bought it.”

His gaze holds mine, steady and unyielding.

“No, baby. It’s yours.”

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