The memory of that night two months ago came flooding back.

I had waited for four hours in Damien's penthouse.

I wore the black silk dress he loved. I lit a hundred candles.

Cigars and whiskey were on the table.

It was my perfectly planned proposal.

I was going to be his wife. The one light in his dark world.

The sound of the lock turning made my heart leap.

I took a deep breath, ready for his surprise.

But Damien didn't walk in alone.

Sophia Marcelli was clinging to his arm. Her red lips were practically at his ear.

The Marcelli family was one of Damien’s biggest rivals.

I knew exactly what her being here meant.

He wanted an alliance.

"Damien?" I stood up. My voice shook.

He glanced at the candles, at the dinner I’d arranged. A flash of annoyance crossed his face.

"Isabella, what is all this?"

"I thought we should talk. About our future."

Sophia let out a little laugh. "Oh, how romantic." Her fingers traced circles on Damien's chest.

My face burned with shame. "Damien, can we talk in private?"

"Sophia can hear anything I can hear." He walked to the bar and poured himself a whiskey. "Go on."

I took a shaky breath.

Even with her here, I had to say it.

"Marry me, Damien."

The whiskey glass froze halfway to his lips.

Then he turned. The look in his eyes made my blood run cold.

"Marry you?" he repeated, like it was the stupidest joke he'd ever heard.

"Yes. We can build a family. A real one. I can be..."

"You can be what?" he cut me off, his voice turning to ice. "A fragile vase I have to protect? A distraction?"

Sophia leaned back on the sofa, watching the show with a smirk.

"Damien, I love you," I choked out.

"Love?" He laughed, a cold, empty sound. "Isabella, do you know what I need? I need a queen to help me run this city. Not a piece of art I have to handle with care."

He walked over to Sophia. His hand stroked her cheek.

"Your purity bores me. This fairytale is over."

My world started spinning.

Three years of love. Three years of waiting. Wiped away with one word: "bored."

"You're not serious," I shook my head. "Damien, you can't..."

He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small box.

My heart stopped. For a second, I thought he'd changed his mind.

But he opened it. Inside was a massive emerald ring.

A ring that symbolized an alliance between two families.

He got down on one knee.

But not for me.

"Sophia Marcelli." His voice was low and steady. "Be my wife. Be the queen of the Costello family."

Sophia shrieked with joy. She held out her hand for him to put the ring on her finger.

"Yes! Of course, yes!"

I just stood there. I watched it all happen. It felt like a sick movie.

The candles were still burning. The smell of whiskey still hung in the air.

But it all felt fake.

Damien kissed her hand, then stood up. He finally looked at me.

"Isabella, you can go now."

My legs felt weak. "Damien..."

"Security will see you out," he said, his voice flat. "Get your things."

Sophia hung on his arm, her new ring sparkling in the light.

"Darling, when are we going to Italy for our honeymoon?"

"Next week," he answered, his eyes still locked on me. "Everything's already arranged."

I turned and ran for the door. Tears blurred everything.

"Isabella," he called out one last time.

I stopped, a final, stupid sliver of hope in my heart.

"Don't ever pull a childish stunt like this again."

I surfaced from the haze of the past.

Now, standing in this elevator, facing Damien’s cold stare, a rage I’d never felt before burned in my chest.

He walked toward us slowly. Each step was a claim of ownership.

"A perfect piece of porcelain," his voice was a low hiss. "Such a shame it breaks so easily."

He stopped in front of me. He reached out to touch my face.

"But it's still my porcelain to break."

Damien’s hand hung in the air, inches from my face.

My body trembled.

Not with fear. With rage.

"Don't touch her."

Julian’s voice was like steel.

He stepped forward, shielding me with his body.

I could feel his warmth. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne.

The feeling of being protected made my heart race again.

Damien slowly lowered his hand. His eyes shifted to Julian.

The two men sized each other up. The air crackled with danger.

"Julian Thorne." A cold smile played on Damien's lips. "I've heard of you. The lawyer who never loses in court."

"My reputation precedes me, it seems," Julian said calmly, but I felt the muscles in his back tense.

"This isn't a courtroom, counselor," Damien moved closer. "This is my world. And in my world, I make the rules."

Marco shifted on his feet, his hand inching toward his jacket.

The redhead, Sophia, pressed herself against the elevator wall, her eyes wide with excitement.

She loved watching men fight over a woman.

"Your world?" Julian chuckled softly. "Mr. Costello, I'm afraid you're mistaken."

His hand found my back, a simple touch that sent a shiver through me.

"The lady has already made her choice."

A flash of raw murder crossed Damien's eyes. "A choice? She has no idea what she's choosing."

"Maybe you should ask her," Julian said, not moving an inch. He was still a wall in front of me.

"Isabella," Damien’s voice became a low, seductive purr. "Tell this stranger who you belong to."

I stepped out from behind Julian. I looked Damien straight in the eye.

"I don't belong to anyone."

Damien's face darkened. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

"A threat?" Julian cut in. His voice was still calm, but it carried its own danger. "How predictable."

Damien turned on him, the fire in his eyes about to spill over. "You have no idea what you're playing with."

"On the contrary." Julian smiled, an elegant and deadly curve of his lips. "I know exactly what I'm doing."

The tension in the elevator was so thick I could barely breathe. A fight could break out any second.

Suddenly, Damien took a step back. He held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright," he said, the chilling smile returning. "I'm a gentleman. Everything for you two tonight is on the house."

He gave Marco a look. "Call the manager. Tell him Mr. Thorne and Miss Rossi get whatever they want tonight."

Marco pulled out his phone and started dialing.

"Of course," Damien continued, his eyes darting between Julian and me. "I'll have some special 'gifts' sent to your room. To make sure you have a good time."

His words were laced with poison. My face went hot.

"That won't be necessary," Julian replied smoothly. "We have our own plans."

"Oh?" Damien raised an eyebrow. "Quite the appetite. Just be careful not to play too rough, counselor. Some dolls break easier than they look."

Humiliation and anger choked me.

He was shaming me in the cruelest way possible.

Julian sensed it.

His hand found mine. He laced his fingers through mine.

"Mr. Costello." His voice was still calm, but it held absolute power. "Some games, I prefer to make the rules myself."

Damien's smile vanished.

"We'll have plenty of time for games," Julian continued, looking Damien dead in the eye. "And you... Mr. Costello. Your time is up."

The words hit Damien like a punch to the gut.

His face went from pale to red.

"You..."

Julian hit the 'door close' button.

"Goodnight, Mr. Costello."

The doors began to slide shut.

In the last second, I saw a primal rage explode in Damien’s eyes.

BANG!

A loud crash echoed from outside the elevator. He had punched the wall.

The elevator began to rise, sweeping us away from his raw, possessive rage.

Damien's POV

I stood in front of the elevator. Blood from my knuckles dripped onto the marble floor.

There was a deep dent in the wall. A sharp pain shot through my hand, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my gut.

"Boss?" Marco asked carefully. "Should I get the doc?"

"Get lost."

I turned and stalked toward the casino downstairs. Sophia trotted after me on her heels, trying to take my arm.

"Honey, your hand..."

I shoved her away. "I said, get lost."

The casino was a sea of bright lights and noise. The rattle of dice and chips filled the air.

Smoke, booze, and perfume hung heavy.

I went to the VIP corner where a few of my guys were at a poker table.

"Boss!" Tony jumped up to give me his seat. "Just in time, we were just..."

"Just what?" I sat down and nodded for the dealer to continue.

"Uh... talking about what happened upstairs," Tony said, trading a look with the others. "That Thorne kid has some balls."

"Yeah," another guy, Vince, chimed in. "Trying to pick up the Boss's girl on the Boss's turf."

My hand balled into a fist. "She's not my girl."

"Right, right," Vince corrected himself quickly. "I mean... ex-girl."

"You know," Tony lowered his voice, like he was sharing a secret. "You know what they say. When a saint finally decides to sin, she sins harder than any devil."

Blood rushed to my head. "What did you just say?"

"I mean..." Tony realized his mistake. "No disrespect, Boss."

"That lawyer Thorne is a lucky man tonight," Vince chuckled. "Three years of being all pent-up... imagine what that's like when it finally breaks loose..."

CRACK!

I slammed my fist on the table. Chips flew everywhere.

Glasses shattered. Liquor splashed across the felt.

"SHUT UP!"

Everyone froze. The whole casino went quiet.

Only the distant chiming of slot machines continued.

I stood up and kicked the chair over.

Sophia tried to get close. I shoved her away. She stumbled, almost falling.

"Damien!"

I ignored her and stormed toward the security room in the back.

"Boss!" Marco ran after me. "Where are you going?"

I shoved the door to the monitoring room open.

Two techs sat inside, staring at a wall of screens showing every corner of the building.

"Pull up the elevator footage," I commanded.

"Which elevator, Boss?"

"The private one. From a few minutes ago."

The tech’s fingers flew across the keyboard. An image appeared on the main screen.

Inside the elevator, Isabella and Julian were wrapped around each other. Her hands were on his collar. His arm was around her waist.

She never looked at me like that.

Hungry. Needy. Completely lost in the moment.

"Replay it."

The footage started again. This time I saw more.

Isabella standing on her toes to kiss him first.

Her body pressed against his. No hesitation at all.

"Again."

I saw her fingers twist in his hair.

I saw her parted lips. I saw the fire in her eyes.

A fire that never burned for me.

For three years, she kept a polite, elegant distance.

Even in our most intimate moments, she was a perfect princess, giving but never taking.

But now, for this stranger, she was showing a side I never knew existed.

"Boss." Nico's voice came from the doorway.

He was my most trusted man. The only one who dared to tell me the truth.

"What?"

"The men outside are waiting for orders."

I didn't turn around. I kept my eyes glued to the screen. The footage replayed the moment Isabella offered her lips to another man.

"Boss," Nico came and stood beside me. His voice was quiet. "You've been more on edge than ever since you and Miss Rossi broke up."

My fists clenched. "I'm not on edge."

"You've flipped three card tables, fired twelve employees, and pushed Sophia over twice."

"That's because they weren't listening."

"Or is it because you can't stand seeing her with another man?"

On the screen, Julian’s hand stroked Isabella's cheek. She closed her eyes, a look of pure bliss on her face.

CRASH!

I grabbed the whiskey glass from the desk. I hurled it at the screen.

Glass exploded. Amber liquid dripped down the shattered monitor.

"ISABELLA!" I roared, the sound tearing through the small room. "YOU'RE MINE."