Celeste didn't remember walking to the rooftop terrace. One moment she was at the bar, locked in Damien's gaze, and the next she was standing beneath a canopy of stars, the city glittering below like a thousand watching eyes.
He followed her, of course.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence between them stretched taut.
"You always run when you're cornered," he said.
She turned slowly. "And you always chase what doesn't want to be caught."
Damien stepped closer, the moonlight carving shadows across his face. "You came to me."
"I came to the gala."
"No," he said, voice low. "You came to me."
Celeste hated how right he was. She hated the way her pulse quickened when he was near, the way her carefully curated detachment unraveled in his presence. He didn't just see her—he dissected her.
"You think you're dangerous," she said.
"I know I am."
He reached out, brushing his fingers along her wrist. She didn't pull away. His touch was cool, deliberate, like he was testing the temperature of her resistance.
"You wear your beauty like armor," he murmured. "But I wonder what you look like when you bleed."
She stiffened. "Is that what you want? To break me?"
"No," he said. "I want to see if you'll break yourself."
The words hit harder than they should have. Because deep down, she knew he wasn't wrong. There was a part of her—buried beneath silk and steel—that longed to be undone. Not by just anyone. By someone who could hold the pieces and not flinch.
Damien leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "I could ruin you, Celeste."
She turned her head, lips inches from his. "Then do it."
For a moment, the world stopped. The stars held their breath. And then he kissed her—not gently, not sweetly, but like a man claiming something he'd waited too long to touch.
Her hands gripped his jacket, pulling him closer, and the rooftop disappeared. There was only heat and hunger and the terrifying thrill of surrender.
When they finally broke apart, her lipstick was smeared, her pulse racing.
Damien smiled. "You taste like defiance."
Celeste stepped back, breathless. "And you taste like danger."
He tilted his head. "Then we're perfectly matched."