Page 49 of Sticks & Serpents

Two could play at that game.

The polished wood of the bar felt cool against my palms as I leaned forward, trying to steady my breathing. The bartender approached with a raised eyebrow.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Whiskey,” I replied sharply, my voice more demanding than I intended. I needed something strong—something to drown out the images of Damien and that girl wrapped up in each other.

The bartender poured a generous measure into a glass and slid it across to me. I was grateful he didn't card me. As I took a sip, the burn settled in my throat, igniting something fierce within me. It felt good—reminded me of how alive I could be when anger coursed through my veins instead of despair.

I glanced back toward Damien and found him still ensconced in his little world, that girl giggling beside him like she had stolen all his attention and affection. It made my blood boil; it shouldn’t matter what he did or who he chose to entertain himself with.

With another gulp of whiskey, I steeled myself for what was next. He thought he could toy with me? Make me jealous? Then let him watch as I played along—smiling at every guy who dared approach me at this ridiculous charity event while keeping an eye on him.

Let’s see how long he could keep up this charade before realizing he didn’t have me under his control anymore.

I took another sip of whiskey, the burn igniting a fire in my belly that I hoped would help drown out the sight of Damien with that girl. As I set the glass down, feeling a bit more grounded, I caught movement from the corner of my eye. A man approached—tall and polished, with an air of confidence that spoke volumes.

He wore a tailored suit that looked as if it had been made just for him. His hair was neatly styled, and his smile was easy, charming—clearly used to making women feel special. He stopped just a breath away from me, his gaze lingering on my dress.

“You look like you could use an escape from all this,” he said smoothly, his voice rich and inviting.

I forced myself to smile, reminding myself that he wasn’t Damien.

“Maybe I do,” I replied, allowing him to touch my arm lightly. His fingers felt warm against my skin, and for a moment, the world faded into a blur.

“Such a beautiful dress,” he continued, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. “I’m impressed you can pull it off in this crowd.”

“Thanks,” I said, glancing toward the sea of perfectly groomed faces surrounding us. “I think it’s more about surviving than thriving at this point.”

He chuckled softly, and it was infectious—a sound that drew me in like a moth to flame.

“I’m Andrew,” he introduced himself with a slight bow of his head. “And you are?”

“Holly.”

“Holly,” he repeated as if savoring the name. “It suits you.”

I found myself relaxing under his attention. I could feel Damien’s stare from across the room, a burning sensation that sent prickles down my spine. His jaw was tight, and I could almost see the tension radiating from his clenched hands. He stood there, surrounded by laughter and conversation, by that brunette, but I knew he was only focused on me.

Good.

Let him fucking burn.

Andrew leaned closer, a playful smile on his face as he teased, “What do you say we make our escape? This place is way too stuffy.”

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed in my purse, jolting me back to reality. I hesitated, feeling a knot of anxiety twist in my stomach. The message glared at me:

Don’t do this, little lamb.

My heart kicked up a notch. Part of me wanted to look again—needed to know what else Damien had to say—but I ignored it, determined not to let him ruin this moment. Not tonight.

“Want to get out of here?” I whispered in Andrew's ear, my voice low enough that only he could hear me. A thrill coursed through me at the thought of breaking free from this oppressive atmosphere and Damien’s unyielding gaze.

Andrew’s eyes lit up with excitement as he nodded eagerly. “Absolutely."

I felt a surge of relief wash over me as I stepped away from the bar, taking one last glance at Damien before we moved deeper into the crowd. His expression darkened when our eyes met for just a moment—a flash of something primal flickered across his face that made my breath hitch.

But I forced myself to look away, focusing on Andrew instead as we wove through the throng of elegantly dressed guests. The chatter faded behind us as anticipation bubbled within me.

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