Why is she here?
Ivy Veilith, flushed from running, chest rising and falling, palms pressed against her knees, looking at him.
It was almost laughable.
Almost.
Kairo froze.
Damian was just looking at her with a straight face, which was confused from inside.
But he didn't fed his curiosity.
Instead, he waited like a king granting an audience.
Ivy straightened, brushing hair from glowing cheeks. Her dress shimmered, but her expression? Bare, unpolished, real.
She gave him a soft, shy smile, innocent in a way that made him want to ruin it.
"Umm... Sorry," she said between breaths. "I don't... I don't know who else to ask for my help."
Kairo mouthed silently beside him, "Bro. BRO. She thinks you are NICE."
Damian resisted the urge to choke him, but outwardly, he merely raised a brow, "Help with what?"
She hesitated. "It's about... my fiancé. I mean, everyone around him, my parents, my friends, they all... sugarcoat everything. I can't... I can't tell what's real. I just... I want to know what kind of person he really is."
Damian's chest tightened for a split second, just enough for him to feel a spark of interest.
Lucky girl, he thought, thinking she's asking for help when instead she's walking straight into the wolf's jaw.
"Why come to me?" he asked smoothly. "I don't even know you and your fiancé."
Ivy's lips pressed together, "I don't know. You just seem different somehow."
Kairo turned to the other side to control his laughter. Damian ignored him. He leaned forward a little, letting a faint smirk curl at the corner of his lips.
"Different," he repeated, letting the word hang in the air like a warning. "Alright, I'll help you."
Ivy exhaled shakily, relief melting across her features. But before she could thank him, Damian's voice sliced through the moment, "What do I get in return?"
She blinked.
The warmth in her face froze.
"I... I will pay," she said quickly, almost too quickly. Her fingers fumbled to open her clutch.
So he is not different from them.
"I have cash. Or...or I can transfer whatever you want. I forgot that's how the world works, people will only stay if you give them something, so... I can give you what you want."
Kairo stared at her with his mouth slightly open. Damian didn't move; even his glance was the same.
But she kept on going, panic softening her voice, "I can get you invitations, access to events, jewelry, expensive cars. If you don't want to help, I understand, it's okay." Her eyes dropped to the ground, shoulders shrinking.
A girl who had been taught that affection is payment and that loyalty is a transaction. People stay only if you give them something expensive to bind them.
Damian hated the offer, but also loved it.
Because it made breaking her so much easier.
He rested his elbow on the open car window while leaning slowly forward more. "No," he said, his voice low, sliding over her like dark smoke, "I don't want your money."
She looked up, startled.
"I-I don't understand."
Damian studied her for a long, charged moment.
The wind, the lights of the mansion, the faint echo of champagne laughter... All of it blurred until there was only them.
"Keep your diamonds," he murmured. "Keep your invitations. Keep whatever you're told, people want from you."
Her brows knitted, confusion softening her features.
Damian's gaze dropped to her lips. Then rose.
"I want something else."
Ivy swallowed. "What... what do you want?"
He stepped out of the car. The door clicked shut behind him.
He walked toward her, slow and deliberate, until she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.
"Spend a few hours," he said softly. "That's all."
Her breath hitched. "A few... hours? Doing what?"
Damian smirked, leaning just a bit closer, close enough for her perfume to mix with his cologne.
"Talking," he said. "Let me see you, and talk with the real you, maybe?"
Ivy's lips parted as if no one had ever asked for that before. Her heartbeat fluttered so visibly that Damian almost felt it from where he stood.
"I... I will try," she whispered.
"Good girl."
Damian stepped back, letting the tension drip like honey. "Then I'll help you."
She nodded quickly, almost too eager, almost too grateful.
"T-thank you," she breathed.
Damian gave her a look that was equal parts charm and threat. "Don't thank me yet."
He slid into the passenger seat, a slow, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Kairo had been holding his breath. The moment Damian shut the door, Kairo exploded, "WHAT did you accept?!"
"Drive." Damian cut him off, eyes still fixed on the shrinking figure of Ivy in the mirror. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth, "She has no idea what she just agreed to."
Kairo practically vibrated in the driver's seat, already speculating. "Money? A car? Jewelry? Mansions? Please tell me you asked to fund my addiction for life-"
"I didn't ask for anything from what she offered me," he murmured.
Kairo's jaw dropped. "You said no to everything?! Are you sick? Are you dying? Blink twice if you're being held hostage by your stupidity-"
Damian tilted his head, eyes glittering, "I asked for her time."
Kairo stared at him, mouth open like a broken elevator door. "The worse you could say."
Damian smiled slowly, which was wicked and devastating. "Whatever you say."
Meanwhile, Ivy stood rooted to the spot, hugging her clutch to her chest.
The taillights disappeared down the driveway.
But the air around her still felt warm, haunted by his voice.
Spend a few hours with me.
Let me see you.
The real you.
The words replayed in her mind like a low, dangerous echo.
She felt lightheaded.
Not scared. Not hurt.
Something else.
Something she didn't have a name for because no one had ever asked anything so... simple from her before.
No one wanted her time.
Just her time.
Her company.
A small, unsure smile pulled at her lips.
And there it was.
The spark. The first one in years.
Her heartbeat fluttered a little bit longer.
Wrong feeling, wrong time, wrong man. But for once, she didn't care.
She turned toward the mansion, taking one slow step... And then someone's heels clicked sharply behind her.
"So this is where you were."
Ivy didn't even have to face the voice to know who it belonged to.
Celene Veilith.
Her uncle's daughter.
Jealous since childhood, cruel by nature, polished like a diamond with nothing but edges.
Celene circled her like a predator that smelled weakness.
"I saw a car leaving."
Her tone dripped venomous amusement.
"Have your standards lowered that much to seek attention from strangers? Ivy, honestly, you shouldn't be alone. You are looking desperate for male attention."
Ivy ignored all the bitterness Celene was throwing at her, but her eyes betrayed her courage to ignore.
"Do you know the staff calls you glass girl? Because you crack so easily." Celene leaned closer, whispering as if sharing a secret. "Sometimes I wonder if you were switched at birth. You don't look like us, don't act like us... don't belong with us."
Usually, that sentence shattered something inside Ivy.
But today.
Today, something foreign flickered under her ribs.
A small, warm, rebellious spark that shouldn't exist but did.
She didn't drop her gaze.
She didn't apologize for existing.
She just walked past Celene, requesting her eyes not to cry in front of her.
For the first time in her life.
Celene froze.
Ivy had never walked away from her before.
Never ignored a blow.
Never shown anything except quiet hurt.
Celene's face twisted, shock slipping into something meaner, darker.
"Oh... interesting," she whispered, eyes narrowing as Ivy disappeared down the hall.
A smug, chilling smile lifted her lips.
"So the little doll thinks she's grown a spine." She tilted her head, calculating, already plotting.
"Let's see how long it lasts... once I show my cards today."