Chapter 21
Apr 30, 2025
Damon’s POV
The sound of my phone’s alarm sliced through the quiet morning. Groaning, I rolled over and silenced it with a swipe. I blinked at the screen.
Five thirty.
Another early start. I turned to the other side of the bed and watched Miranda sleeping peacefully. For a second, I allowed myself to linger in the warmth of that moment.
Then the phone rang again.
“Damon speaking,” I answered curtly.
“Sir, there’s a situation at the office. You need to come in as soon as possible,” my secretary’s voice buzzed into my ear.
I sighed. “What now?”
“Felicia is here. She says she won’t leave until she sees you.”
I shot up from bed, the name instantly turning my pulse cold. Felicia. The woman who once promised me forever and broke me like I was made of glass. What the hell did she want now?
Miranda stirred slightly, and I leaned over, kissed her forehead softly, and whispered, “I have to go. I’ll be back soon.”
She mumbled something unintelligible, half-asleep.
Twenty minutes later, I was striding into the office, my expression stormy. I didn’t need this. Not now. Not after last night with Miranda. Something had changed between us, something soft, something real. And now Felicia, of all people, had decided to reappear.
As I walked through the doors, the receptionist stood, pale. “She’s in your office, sir. I tried to stop her.”
“Not your fault.”
I entered and there she was. Felicia. Leaning casually against my desk like she still belonged here. Like she hadn’t torn my life apart five years ago.
“Get out,” I growled.
She smiled like we were old friends. “That’s no way to talk to someone you once loved, Damon.”
“Loved?” I laughed dryly. “You left me when I had nothing. You disappeared when I needed you most.”
She shrugged, unfazed. “People make mistakes. I made one. I want to fix it.”
I turned to the security officer standing by the door. “Take her away. Now.”
“Damon! Wait!” she cried as she was being pulled away. “Just listen to me—”
The door slammed behind her and I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through my hair.
Rage bubbled inside me, every part of me vibrating with frustration. What gave her the right to walk back in like nothing had happened?
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Miranda.
I answered without thinking. “What?”
“Good morning to you too,” she said, a bit uncertainly. “I just wanted to know if you’d be home for lunch or—”
“Miranda, I’m busy. Don’t you get it? I don’t have time for this right now!”
The silence that followed was long and stiff.
Then she said, quietly, “Oh okay.”
She hung up before I could say another word.
****
Miranda’s POV
I stared at my phone like it had just slapped me across the face. What the actual hell was that?
“I don’t have time for this right now.” His words echoed in my head, over and over like a damn chant. Anger flared up my spine.
How dare he?
We’d shared something real last night. I wasn’t imagining it. His touches, his words, the way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. And now I was an inconvenience?
No. I wasn’t going to let him do this to me.
I paced the length of the living room, my fists clenched. My heart was pounding, not from heartbreak, but from rage. I wasn’t the fragile woman he could push aside when it suited him.
I picked up the phone and called him again. One ring. Two. No answer.
“Pick up the damn phone, Damon,” I muttered through clenched teeth.
Still nothing.
Fine. If he wanted war, he was going to get it.
I hit redial. Again. And again. Until, finally, the line connected.
“What?!” he snapped.
“The wedding is off,” I said, my voice trembling with fury. “You can go to hell, Damon.”
Then I hung up.
