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Chapter 23 - Beautiful Things Break the Hardest

Ariana stood before the mirror, drowning in moonlight.

The gown she wore tonight was midnight blue, sheer and clinging — delicate silver embroidery kissed her waist and wrapped around her thighs like vines. Her skin glowed golden in the candlelight, her long hair falling in gentle waves down her back.

Her eyes, once soft, now burned with something ancient.

 She didn't look like a girl in love anymore.

She looked like a goddess deciding whether to destroy the world or rule it.

Damian watched from the shadows.

He had come to apologize.

To fight.

To beg.

But when he saw her…

 Her beauty carved the breath from his lungs.

The way her collarbones peeked from the gown.

The sharp tilt of her lips — like she knew exactly how much power she held now.

And worse… how little he deserved to touch her.

 "You shouldn't be here," Ariana said, voice calm — but her hands trembled.

 "You let him in," Damian rasped. "But not me?"

She turned to face him fully — and he nearly fell to his knees.

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears and fury. Her lips were glossed, tempting. Her body — divine.

 "Kairo didn't lie to me," she said coldly. "He didn't hide my past. He didn't make promises he couldn't keep."

 "I protected you—"

 "You protected your secrets, not me."

He crossed the room, slowly, like she was a storm he couldn't survive but still walked into anyway.

 "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he whispered.

 "Then why did you break me?"

Silence.

And then—he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone, as if to memorize her softness one last time.

 "Because I didn't believe I deserved you," he breathed. "And maybe I was right."

A tear slipped down her cheek — but she didn't pull away.

 "Then what now?" she asked.

He leaned in, lips barely grazing hers.

 "One last kiss," he whispered. "Before you choose."

And she let him kiss her.

Soft. Slow. Apologetic.

A kiss that tasted like goodbye.

But behind the curtain?

Kairo watched.

Eyes sharp.

Jaw clenched.

And a dagger in his hand.

 If she won't choose… then I'll make the choice for her.

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