Confrontation with Damian
The scent of expensive cologne and deception hung heavy in the air. My pulse pounded as I stormed into Damian's office, my hands clenched into fists. He lounged in his leather chair, exuding an infuriating calm, as if he hadn't just ripped my world apart.
"Tell me the truth," I demanded, slamming my palms onto his desk. "Did you ever care about me, or was I just another piece in your little game?"
Damian barely looked up, exhaling a bored sigh. He steepled his fingers, dark eyes cold and unreadable. "Celeste, don't be so dramatic."
The casual dismissal stung like a slap. Fury and betrayal burned in my chest. "Dramatic? You led me on, used me, and tossed me aside the second I stopped being useful. Was any of it real?"
A slow, cruel smirk tugged at his lips. "You were convenient. Ambitious. Eager to please. But love?" He let out a humorless chuckle. "Let's not pretend you weren't climbing just as much as I was."
My breath hitched. The room swayed slightly, my vision blurring at the edges. How could I have been so blind? So naïve? I had given him everything, only to realize I had been nothing more than a stepping stone.
"You're disgusting," I spat. "I gave you everything, and you—"
"And I won," he cut in, his tone final and sharp. "That's all that matters. You were a means to an end. Don't take it personally."
Rage coiled in my stomach, hot and searing. My nails dug into my palms as I fought the urge to hurl something at his smug face. "You're a coward, Damian. A heartless, spineless coward."
A soft chuckle echoed from the corner of the room, sending a chill down my spine. Bianca.
She sauntered forward, her designer heels clicking against the marble, a glass of red wine swirling in her manicured fingers. That smirk—so perfectly cruel—was a knife twisting in my wounds.
"Oh, Celeste," she cooed, tilting her head in mock pity. "Did you really think you were special? That you could win against me?"
My stomach tightened. Of course. She had known all along. Damian had played me, and Bianca had sat back, watching like it was her favorite show.
I met her gaze, steady and unwavering. "Enjoy this while you can," I said coolly. "Because men like Damian? Loyalty isn't exactly their strong suit."
For the briefest second, her smirk faltered. Barely noticeable, but I caught it. A tiny crack in her perfect confidence. Good.
Damian chuckled, shaking his head. "Run along, Celeste. You lost. Accept it with some grace."
I refused to let him see me break. Lifting my chin, I squared my shoulders and met his gaze head-on. "I may have lost this battle, Damian, but the war isn't over."
Without another word, I turned on my heel and strode toward the door. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to shatter, to crumble, but I wouldn't—not here. Not in front of them.
My fingers wrapped around the handle when his voice stopped me cold.
"You'll regret this."
I hesitated just for a second, then, without looking back, I whispered, "No, Damian. You will."
With that, I stepped out, shutting the door behind me—closing the chapter on everything we had been. But as I walked away, one thought gnawed at me.
What was my next move?