LİLY'S POV
The drive to Damien's office felt like it took forever, though it was only a short distance. Every second seemed stretched thin, the weight of my thoughts bearing down on me with increasing pressure. The article about Damien and Samantha being remarried was still fresh in my mind, gnawing at me like an open wound. I had tried to push it aside, to ignore the anger, the confusion, the betrayal. But as much as I tried to bury it, it wouldn't stay hidden.
I had to go to Damien. I had to get answers. No more running, no more hiding from what had been happening. The confusion had eaten at me for days, and now, finally, I was driving toward him-toward the truth, whether I was ready for it or not. Jess had urged me to talk to him, to get to the bottom of it. So here I was, heading to the one place where the truth, whatever it was, would be exposed.
The drive seemed to last an eternity. The usual hum of the city around me barely registered. My fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter with each passing minute, my heart pounding in my chest, my thoughts spiraling. What would I find? What was he hiding? Was this all just a game to him?
By the time I arrived at Damien's office building, my pulse was erratic. My hands were clammy, and I had to steady myself as I stepped out of the car. The elevator ride to the top floor felt like an eternity. With every upward movement, my heart dropped lower and lower. This wasn't just about confronting him-it was about confronting everything he had been hiding from me.
The moment the elevator doors opened, I didn't hesitate. I stepped out, walking down the hall with purposeful strides. My mind was blank, but my gut told me I was about to witness something that would change everything. My breath caught as I neared his office door. It was slightly ajar.
I paused, hesitated for a moment. Should I knock? Should I just walk in? But no, I didn't want to play games anymore. I didn't want to pretend that this wasn't a raw, ugly moment.
I pushed open the door.
The scene before me struck like a punch to the gut.
Damien was in the middle of the room, standing over Samantha-his ex-wife-who was lying on the table with her body bare and her legs spread wide. The scene in front of me felt unreal, my mind unable to fully process what I was seeing. Damien's hands were gripping her waist, his face twisted in concentration as he looked down at her. The intimacy, the closeness, the possessiveness-it all hit me at once, like a tidal wave. Every part of me froze.
For a long moment, Damien didn't notice me. He was completely absorbed in the moment, his gaze locked on Samantha's body, his entire focus on her.
But I was there. I saw it all. The way his fingers brushed against her skin, the way his breath quickened, the way his eyes darkened with something I couldn't place. He was claiming her. He was with her, in a way that I never had been. And for that brief, awful moment, I wasn't sure if I could breathe.
The silence in the room felt deafening, and it stretched on until the sound of my footsteps echoed in the room. I took a single step forward, then another. Damien's body tensed, a flicker of realization crossing his face. He didn't look up. But his hands stopped moving, and he stilled.
"Lily..." He whispered, his voice strained. The word fell from his lips like it didn't belong there.
I felt my heart beating in my throat. I couldn't speak. I couldn't find the words to confront the man I thought I knew. I just stood there, staring at the sight in front of me-at the betrayal, the lie, the hurt that came crashing down with each passing second.
Samanthas face was flushed, her body exposed as she lifted her head and looked at me. There was no shame in her eyes. No guilt. Nothing but satisfaction, as if she had every right to be there.
"You..." I finally managed to choke out, my voice barely a whisper. The words were lodged in my throat, and for a moment, I didn't know whether to scream or collapse.
Damien slowly turned around, his face a mask of confusion, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes that made my skin crawl.
"Lily..." he started again, but I wasn't going to give him the chance to explain. I wasn't interested in his words. Not now. Not after what I had just walked in on.
I took a deep breath, the air thick with disbelief, and walked toward him, my steps slow but deliberate. His eyes followed me, his expression shifting as he tried to comprehend what was happening.
"Don't you dare say my name again," I snapped, my voice shaking but firm. "Don't even think about explaining this away."
Damien opened his mouth to speak, but I was already done listening.
I walked up to him, my heart pounding in my chest, but there was a fire building in my stomach-fury, disgust, betrayal. I reached up with shaking hands and slapped him across the face with all the strength I could muster.
The sound of the slap reverberated through the room like a thunderclap, but the impact wasn't just on his skin-it landed on everything between us. The slap wasn't just physical-it was a declaration. A message. I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I wasn't going to be a passive participant in his games, in his lies.
Damien's face jerked to the side, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. He blinked, as though trying to process what had just happened, but I wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
"You disgust me," I spat, my voice venomous as I stepped back from him, the distance between us growing with each passing second. My chest heaved with anger, my body shaking with adrenaline. "You had the audacity to lie to me. To use me like some disposable plaything, while you're still wrapped up in her...your ex wife."
I pointed at Samantha, who was still lying on the table, staring at me with cold, calculating eyes. "You've been playing me all along, Damien. While I was stupid enough to think you cared for me, you were still obsessed with her. The woman who mattered enough for you to let go of."
Damien didn't say anything, his hand coming to his cheek where my slap had landed, but there was no remorse in his eyes-only surprise and a faint hint of anger. His jaw clenched as if he couldn't decide whether to lash out or remain silent.
I didn't care. I didn't care what he thought.
"You don't get to do this to me," I continued, my voice cold as ice. "I'm not your fucking toy. Not anymore."
He finally seemed to snap out of his stupor, his eyes flicking between me and Samantha, his posture tense, his anger rising. But I didn't flinch. I was done flinching. This wasn't about him anymore.
I turned, my back to both of them, and walked toward the door. Each step felt like a triumph. Each step further from him felt like an eternity of freedom.
But before I reached the door, I stopped. I turned my head to look at him one last time. The man who had lied to me. The man I had trusted.
"Don't ever come near me again," I said, my voice low and final.
Without another word, I stepped out of his office, the door swinging shut behind me with a finality that echoed in my ears.
I had walked away. I had finally, truly walked away.