His lips devoured mine, rough and demanding, until I thought I might drown in him. I hated how much my body betrayed me, answering him when my mind screamed to stop. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me in place, deepening the kiss until my knees buckled.
But suddenly, he pulled away. The heat vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving me gasping, my eyes wide. My lips tingled, my chest heaved, and for a second I couldn't breathe. Damien stared at me, his face hard, but I caught the flicker of regret in his eyes. His hand fell from my neck, and he stepped back as if the nearness had burned him.
"I shouldn't have done that," he muttered, his voice rough, strained. "I'm sorry, Sofia."
The words hurt. He turned from me before I could answer, walked back to his desk, and lowered himself into the chair. The sound of his pen scratching paper filled the room again, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just torn me apart and left me standing there in pieces.
My chest ached so badly it felt hard to stand. But I forced my face still, acting like I didn't care because I refused to let him see how much he still had power over me. Ignoring him, I moved over and sat on the couch beside a sleeping Charlie. The room was awkwardly silent until the sound of the door opening broke through it. I turned sharply, my chest tightening the moment I saw her.
A woman stepped in—tall, elegant, with alluring eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Her hair was neatly pulled back, and she carried herself with a confidence that made my stomach twist. The faint sweet scent that drifted in with her was the same one I'd noticed earlier clinging to Damien's desk.
My heart sank. So it hadn't been my imagination.
She carried a folder in her hand, her heels clicking lightly against the floor as she walked in like she owned here. "Alpha Damien," she greeted, her voice smooth, professional—but there was a warmth in it too, too casual for someone who should have kept their distance.
I froze, my eyes narrowing. Secretary. She had to be. But why her? Why a woman? He could have picked anyone—a man, someone less… striking. Instead, it was her.
I felt my jaw tighten as I watched Damien look up. To my shock, his expression softened—just slightly, but enough to make my blood boil. "You're here," he said, his tone low, almost… friendly.
My stomach twisted with jealousy so sharp it made me nauseous. He never spoke like that to anyone. Only to me. And now here was this woman, standing in his office with her polished smile, speaking to him as though they shared some secret language.
She placed the folder neatly on his desk, and their eyes met for the briefest second in a way that made my fingers curl into fists. My nails dug into my palms as I sat stiffly beside Charlie, forcing myself to stay quiet, forcing myself not to explode. Then, as if sensing my stare, her eyes shifted—and landed on me.
Her brows lifted in mild surprise before her lips curved into a polite smile. "Oh… you must be Charlie's mother."
The words were friendly, but they only made my chest tighten more. Charlie's mother. That was all I was to her. Not Sofia. Not Damien's woman. Just… his son's mother.
I forced a thin smile, my voice clipped. "Yes."
She gave a small nod, her eyes flicking briefly to Charlie sleeping beside me. "He's adorable. Looks just like Damien."
My throat tightened. "He looks like me too," I said quickly, a little ruder than I meant.
She blinked at my tone but only smiled again, unbothered by my attitude. "Of course. Lucky boy."
Damien finally cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Thank you. That'll be all."
She glanced back at him, and for a second, the look they shared made my stomach churn. It was professional… but warmer than I liked. Too warm. She gave a small bow of her head, her heels clicking softly as she turned for the door.
Just before she stepped out, she looked back at me again with that same friendly smile. "It was nice meeting you."
I pressed my lips together, nodding once. "Likewise." The word was bitter on my tongue.
And then she was gone, leaving behind the faint trace of her perfume and a silence heavier than before.
I sat frozen, my fists clenched in my lap, every part of me burning. She was just his secretary… but for the first time, I wasn't sure that was all she was. And that thought alone nearly broke me.
The room went back to its awkward silence, but my mind refused to rest. Every second replayed in my head—her scent, her smile, the way Damien's voice had softened when he spoke to her. My stomach twisted, the fire of jealousy clawing up my chest until I could hardly breathe.
I hated myself for it. Hated that I cared. Hated that I was jealous.
The door opened again, and my chest tightened. It was her. Again. Her heels clicked softly as she carried in a tray. Two glasses of juice, chilled, sitting neatly on top.
"I thought you might want these," she said politely, her smile warm, directed at both of us.
She set the tray carefully on Damien's desk, then gave a small nod. "If you need anything else, Alpha, I'll be outside."
Damien only gave her a short nod before she turned and left. The faint perfume lingered behind her again, teasing my nose, taunting me.
My fists clenched in my lap. Why her? Why not a man? Why her? The questions ate at me until I thought I'd scream. Thıs text ıs hosted at 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚑𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥
Damien's voice broke through my thoughts. "Sofia, stop."
My head snapped toward him, frowning. "Stop what?"
His eyes pinned me in place, calm and blank. "Stop fuming. Stop glaring like you'll rip her apart. Stop acting jealous."
Jealous. The word stabbed deep, and my chest flared hot. "I'm not jealous," I snapped, my voice loud as I tried to hide my jealousy.
His brow arched, disbelief written all over his face.
I lifted my chin, my lips curling into a smile I didn't feel. "Besides… I have a man. So why would I care?"
The lie slid out smoothly, but it burned my tongue. My heart pounded so hard I thought Damien would hear it.
For a second, his brows furrowed, and I thought he would explode—but he didn't. Instead, he simply bent his head and returned to the document on his desk.