Chapter 10 010

Damian's Pov

I barely registered the moments that followed. The lights dimmed, the music, which had once been a thumping beat, now just a soft background hum. Emma's delicate fingers were still pressed against my chest, her breath heavy, her eyes lost in the haze of her own emotions. She was fading. She was drowning in that drink, in the weight of everything that had shattered her tonight.

I noticed her flagging down a server from the corner of my eye-her movements lazy, disoriented, the glass in her hand trembling ever so slightly. It was the same server I'd seen earlier. She walked toward the table, but I was already up, swiftly moving to intercept.

"No more," I said quietly, my voice firm yet gentle. She didn't seem to register the words, her gaze still clouded, eyes glassy as if she were already lost somewhere far away.

The attendant hesitated for a moment but nodded, turning to leave without another word. I didn't need her to bring more poison to Emma's already broken soul.

My gaze shifted back to her. She was a mess of contradictions-a beautiful, delicate mess. How had things spiraled so quickly? I had barely even known this woman. Yet here I was, my thoughts tangled with hers, my body drawn to hers in a way that was reckless, unexplainable, and definitely dangerous.

I moved back to the plush, velvet sofa, sitting beside her. Emma's head had fallen against the backrest, her lips parted as if waiting for something-anything. A response, perhaps, to the storm that raged behind those soft brown eyes. And I... I felt it too, a tension thick in the air between us. Not just the liquor, not just the heat of the night.

Her voice broke through the silence.

"I don't want to feel anymore, Damian..." she muttered, her words slurred, but the weight of them hung heavy between us.

I leaned in closer, my breath slow, deliberate. My hand found hers, trembling against my touch. Without thinking, I kissed her.

At first, it was tentative-a brush of lips, as if testing the waters. But then, her hand slid around my neck, pulling me closer, and the kiss deepened. She kissed me back with desperation, with need-emotions crashing into one another, tangled like the mess we both were. There was no clarity, no understanding. Just raw, passionate escape.

I could feel the world around us slip away, the pain, the confusion, everything. She felt so fragile in my arms, yet there was a fire in her that I couldn't ignore. And as much as I told myself to pull back, to stop it before it went too far-before it turned into something I couldn't control-I didn't.

There were no words. No thoughts. Just the sensation of her pressed against me, the soft scent of her skin, and the heat of her body.

The night unfolded in a blur after that - sheets tangled, the world outside forgotten. We were two lost souls finding solace in each other, even if just for a few hours.

I woke with a heavy head, the kind that promised both regret and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. The sheets were twisted around my legs, and the soft scent of her lingered in the air-her perfume, faint, mixed with the scent of the night. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the sleep that clung to me, but there was no escaping the reality that hit me as soon as I opened my eyes.

She was gone.

Emma.

The thought shot through my mind, sharp and unexpected. I sat up quickly, my mind still foggy as I scanned the room. The silence was deafening. The lounge was pristine, untouched, and yet the absence of her felt like a wound in the air. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of it. What had happened last night? The passion, the fire-it had felt so real. But now, it felt like a dream. Was it all just a moment of reckless abandon?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up. I should've known. I should've kept my distance. This wasn't my usual thing, and yet... with Emma, it had been different.

My head was still buzzing as I moved to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. I didn't have time to think about it. Not now. I couldn't let myself spiral. There were more important things to do-things that required focus, not the mess of emotions that I was clearly getting tangled in.

When I stepped back into the lounge, I saw the faint trace of where she had been-her side dress tossed over the back of a chair, her purse neatly placed on the small coffee table. She hadn't left in a panic, but she had left. And that alone felt like a punch to the gut.

I should've known better than to let it get this far.

There was a knock on the door, breaking my thoughts. It wasn't a gentle knock. It was urgent, fast. I opened it without hesitation, expecting one of the staff. But it wasn't just anyone-it was my right-hand man, Blake. His face was unreadable, but I could see the tension in his posture.

"Everything okay?" he asked, stepping into the room, his eyes scanning the space. He noticed the disarray-the fact that Emma wasn't here, and the absence was just as loud as any words could have been.

"I need to find her," I said, my voice sharp, almost desperate, though I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like me to get wrapped up in something like this. But I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more going on.

Blake nodded. "We'll look into it. You should take a breath first. You need to focus, Damian. Last night was-"

"I know," I cut him off, the words hanging in the air. I didn't need him to tell me what had happened. I knew it all too well.

He didn't press me further, but the silence that followed was thick. He knew I wasn't ready to talk about it-not yet.

I grabbed my coat, feeling the weight of the situation settle on my shoulders. "I'll find her," I muttered, more to myself than to Blake. "And when I do, I'll figure out what the hell just happened."

But as I walked toward the door, another thought struck me. The last time I'd seen her, she had been lost in the crowd, the weight of her pain palpable. She hadn't seemed like the kind of woman who would disappear after a night like that. She didn't seem like someone who would let me get so close, only to run.

And yet, here I was.

Blake caught up to me just as I reached the hallway. "Damian, I don't think you understand. She left without saying anything. It wasn't just about the night. Something's off. I've been keeping an eye on her for a while now, and I can tell she's hiding something."

I turned to look at him. "You've been watching her?" I asked, my voice cold, the protective instinct rising in me again.

Blake raised his hands in defense. "Not in a creepy way, man. But she's been... I don't know.

His words hung in the air like a heavy fog, and for the first time, I found myself questioning just how much I really knew about Emma.

"I'll figure it out," I said, more to myself than anyone else. I turned and left the lounge, stepping into the main part of Nocturne. The club was quieter now-fewer people, a more subdued atmosphere. But even in the calm, I could feel the storm that was about to hit.

The last thing I expected was for Emma to vanish after a night like that. But as I looked around the room, my gut told me something wasn't right. She wasn't just some woman I could forget about. I didn't know what this was yet, but I knew I wasn't going to let it slip away so easily.