—When the storm doesn't knock, but kicks the door down.
---
The morning came like a thief.
Stealing the softness of last night's embrace, robbing the silence of any sense of safety. Serena stirred under the warmth of the sheets, her limbs still tangled in Damon's. The world felt distant here—just breath, skin, and the low hum of comfort she'd never known before him.
But comfort doesn't last long when you're being hunted.
Damon's phone buzzed on the nightstand. Once. Twice. Then a third time in rapid succession.
Serena opened her eyes to see him already awake, staring at the screen. The muscles in his jaw had gone stone-hard, and the soft, reverent man who kissed her senseless hours ago was replaced by someone else.
Cold.
Calculated.
Dangerous.
"What is it?" she asked, sitting up slowly, pulling the sheet around her chest.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he rose from the bed, the phone still in hand, back turned toward her. His shoulders stiffened as he scrolled through whatever had come through.
She slid out of the bed, padding toward him barefoot, her voice lower now. "Damon. Talk to me."
He finally turned the screen toward her.
And she saw it.
A photo.
Her.
In Damon's penthouse.
Wrapped in his shirt, barefoot, eyes soft with something close to love.
It wasn't just one image. It was a whole collage. Blurred, zoomed, stolen from shadows. The angle from the balcony. A long lens.
The headline beneath it screamed across the screen:
"BLOOD & BEDROOMS: DAMON CROSS'S SECRET AFFAIR WITH THE DAUGHTER OF HIS RIVAL"
—Is this the end of the Cross-Lombardi truce? Or the beginning of a war?
Serena's stomach dropped.
"I don't understand," she whispered, grabbing the phone from his hand and scrolling through the rest.
There were captions. Accusations. Even a twisted narrative about her seducing Damon to gain leverage for her father's criminal case.
"They're painting me like..." She swallowed. "Like some kind of spy."
Damon didn't speak.
Not yet.
He just pulled on his shirt, one button at a time, his eyes dark as obsidian.
"Who leaked this?" she asked.
"Luca," he said flatly. "Or someone working for him."
Her heart hammered. "Why now?"
"Because we stopped playing by their rules," Damon muttered. "Because we gave them something real to destroy."
---
By the time they reached his office, the phones were ringing off the hook. His assistant, Mia, looked up from her desk with pale cheeks and trembling hands.
"They've already called three times from CapitalWatch," she said. "And your father's firm just issued a statement denying any knowledge of the relationship. They're... distancing."
Damon gave a sharp nod.
"Have our lawyers release a cease-and-desist to every outlet that ran those pictures. And tell PR to draft something neutral—no admissions, no denials. We need to stall."
Mia hesitated. "And Serena?"
He looked back at her, standing near the elevator in an oversized coat, hair pulled into a messy knot, eyes full of confusion and fire.
"She's off-limits. No comment. No contact."
"But—"
"Anyone who crosses that line answers to me."
---
In the private conference room, Serena paced in slow, tight circles.
"This isn't just a headline, Damon. It's my name. It's my face. They're twisting this into something ugly—like I'm just a scandal to be cleaned up."
"You're not," he said. "I'll handle it."
She turned, her voice trembling now. "You can't protect me from this. You can't control what people think when they see those pictures."
"No," he said quietly, stepping toward her. "But I can choose what I do next."
She blinked, caught off guard by the fury beneath his calm. "What do you mean?"
He exhaled slowly.
"We make it public. Not just the photos. Us."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"You want to confirm it?"
"I want to take control of the story," he said. "Let them know I'm not hiding you. That this isn't a fling. That you're not a pawn in anyone's game."
"And what if it backfires?" she asked, voice small. "What if they tear me apart anyway?"
His voice lowered.
"Then we burn with dignity."
Silence stretched between them, thick with fear and something even heavier—devotion.
She took a slow step toward him. "What happens now?"
He reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. "Now we stop hiding."
---
But as they walked out of that room together—hand in hand—the air shifted. Like something watching them from the corners of the world just stirred.
Because the people they had just dared to defy?
They were already writing the next chapter.
And this time, love alone might not be enough to stop what's coming.