Ayla's chest rose and fell in short, sharp bursts as she clawed at the doorknob. She had been trying for what felt like hours to leave the house — darting from the front door to the kitchen's side exit, even the balcony — but every attempt ended the same: Damien's shadow in the hallway, his voice, his presence.
The walls of the apartment felt smaller than they were, like they were closing in on her. Her fingers trembled as she abandoned the fight and retreated to her room, locking the door behind her.
She leaned against it, eyes squeezed shut, willing herself to hear the sound of a knock — someone asking for her, anyone. But the apartment was silent, except for the faint shuffle of footsteps beyond her door.
In the living room, Damien sat with her phone in his hand like it belonged there. The screen lit up, vibrating once, then twice. A message from Leon.
Leon: YOU SAID YOU WAS GONNA TEXT ME WHEN YOU GOT HOME, ARE YOU HOME NOW?
SORRY ABOUT MAUREEN. WE COULD FIX ANOTHER DATE TO TALK.
Damien's eyes narrowed as he read the words. Slowly, his fist clenched until his knuckles whitened, the tendons in his hand straining. But instead of rage, a proud smile crept across his lips.
"I knew it," he murmured to himself, almost giddy. "Maureen… you're up to the task. Go, girl. Destroy this little love story before it even has a chance to breathe."
The satisfaction in his voice was chilling.
Without a moment's hesitation, he began typing, his thumbs moving with precision.
Ayla: Yeah, I'm fine. I got home safe. Got caught with something, that's why I didn't text.
Would be going for a vacation with Damien. If I need you, I'm gonna text.
He hit send, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. Then, with one final glance at the screen, he pressed the power button, watching the glow fade to black.
Across town, Leon's phone buzzed.
The relief came instantly, loosening the knot in his chest. She was safe. That was all that mattered — at least, that's what he told himself. But as he reread the words, the jealousy bit deep. A vacation with Damien. The thought of her by his side, laughing, smiling, sleeping in the same bed — it was enough to twist his gut into knots.
He tapped out a quick reply, trying to mask his frustration.
Leon: I hope you're safe. Take care.
He dropped the phone onto the side of the bed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Earlier that day, he'd told Maureen he wasn't going home straight away, just so she wouldn't follow him. He regretted the day she saved his life — not because he wasn't grateful, but because it had shackled him to her, tied him in a promise he never truly wanted to make.
But he was a man of his word. And a man of his word didn't break a promise lightly.
Still… once he won Ayla back, that would be the end of it. Maureen could keep her smug smile and her games — he'd walk away from her even if it meant playing the villain.
With that thought lingering in his mind, he pushed himself off the bed and headed for the bathroom, hoping the steam of a hot shower might wash away the frustration burning in his chest.