I scoffed, shaking my head. "Is that what this is about? Power? Control? What about me? What about what I want?"
"You lost the privilege of making your own decisions the moment you disgraced this family with your recklessness, marry Ryan and you will get your mother's company back."
My jaw clenched. "I haven't done anything wrong!"
My father's lip curled in disgust. "You think I don't know about your little rebellion? Your constant defiance? You go against me at every turn, Celeste. I've had enough. You will marry Ryan."
I shot up from my seat, my heart pounding in fury. "I would rather die than marry that manipulative snake!"
A muscle ticked in Richard's jaw. "You will do as I say, or you will no longer be my daughter."
My breath hitched. The weight of those words settled deep in my chest, but I forced myself to keep my chin high. If he thought he could control my life, he was wrong.
I turned on my heel and stormed out of the office, my father's voice echoing after me.
"You walk out that door, Celeste, and you will regret it!"
I didn't stop.
I didn't look back.
--
The bass of the club thrummed through my body as I drank another shot, the burn of alcohol numbing my raging thoughts. The strobe lights flashed, casting shadows across the crowded dance floor, where bodies moved to the hypnotic beat.
I wasn't the type to drink herself into oblivion, but tonight, I wanted to forget.
Forget my father's threats.
Forget the arranged marriage looming over me.
Forget that no matter what I did, I would never be enough for him.
"Another?" the bartender asked.
I nodded, but before I could grab the glass, a deep voice cut through the noise.
"I think you've had enough."
I turned, ready to snap at whoever dared to tell me what to do. But the words caught in my throat when I met the gaze of the man beside me.
Tall. Broad-shouldered.
Dark, messy hair that made him look effortlessly rugged.
A crisp white shirt stretched over his toned chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a hint of tanned skin. But it was his eyes that held me still-intense, piercing, like they saw straight through me.
"I don't recall asking for your opinion," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
The man smirked, his lips tilting at one side. "And I don't recall watching someone drown in liquor and thinking, 'Hey, that's a great idea.'"
I exhaled, torn between irritation and intrigue. "Do you always go around lecturing strangers at bars?"
"Only when they look like they're trying to forget something."
My chest tightened. He wasn't wrong.
"You don't know me," I muttered.
He leaned in slightly, his scent-clean, warm, with a hint of spice-flooding my senses. "No, but I know that whatever you're trying to escape, it's not worth letting it break you."
I let out a humorless laugh. "You have no idea."
The man studied me for a moment, then reached for my abandoned drink. Before I could protest, he tossed it back in one smooth motion and set the glass down.
"Hey!" I glared at him.
"You'll thank me in the morning," he said, smirking.
Before I could fire back, a couple stumbled past them, knocking me off balance. The stranger's hands shot out, steadying me with firm hands on my waist.
For a moment, the world tilted.
My heart pounded as I stared up at him, my skin burning where he touched me. His grip was strong, protective, and yet... gentle.
I swallowed. "Who are you?"
"Damien," he said simply.
I didn't know if it was the alcohol, the way his voice wrapped around my name like silk, or the way his gaze held something raw and unspoken-but suddenly, I didn't want to be alone anymore.
"I don't want to think tonight," she murmured.
His jaw tightened slightly. "Are you sure?"
I nodded.
And then I kissed him.
The next morning, I woke to the unfamiliar weight of a warm body beside me.
Blinking against the morning light filtering through the hotel curtains, my breath caught as I turned and saw Damien lying there, his dark lashes resting against his cheek, his bare chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
Memories of the night before crashed into me like a tidal wave.
The club. The drinks. His lips on mine. The way he had pulled me against him, his touch searing into my skin.
Oh, God.
What have I done?
My heart pounded as panic settled in. Carefully, I slipped out of the bed, searching for my clothes. I needed to get out of here. Now.
I barely spared another glance at the sleeping man as I grabbed my things and rushed out the door.
--
Later that night, in Richard Arden's office, the air was thick with silence.
Ryan Monroe leaned against the desk, watching as Richard's expression darkened while scrolling through the pictures on his phone.
Photos of Celeste.
Leaving a hotel.
With a man.
A man that Richard didn't recognize-at first. But when he zoomed in on the image, his blood ran cold.
He knew that face.
Ryan smirked. "You wanted to know why she refuses to marry me? Well, now you do."
Richard's grip tightened on the phone, his fury barely contained. "Who is he?"
"A nobody," Ryan said casually. "A disgraced doctor. Damien Cross."
Richard's eyes narrowed in anger.