Chapter 9
Damian’s POV
Scarlett’s words churned my stomach with disgust. I sprang to my feet, yanking a handful of her hair and dragging her across the
floor. She screamed, but I didn’t care.
“You think I need you?” I slammed her head against a stone pillar. “Who the hell are you?” Blood trickled from her forehead, but my
fury was far from sated.
“Just two days ago, we-” she tried to protest.
“Two days ago?” I sneered, my hand closing around her throat, cutting off her words until her face started to turn purple. “You were
nothing but a warm body. A hole to fuck. That’s all you’ve ever been.”
“Do you really think I could ever love you?” My voice dripped venom. “Scarlett Black, you’re not even worth a single tear Elara shed
for you.”
“You… you said you loved me…” she choked, barely able to form the words.
“Love you?” I released her, watching her crumple to the floor, gasping and coughing. “I never loved you. You’re just a filthy animal
who spreads her legs, a shameless bitch who barks like a dog. Everything you do is vile–things Elara would never dream of doing.”
Tears streaked with blood ran down her face, but I wasn’t finished.
“You think a few meaningless nights make you queen of the Grayson family?” I crouched, gripping her jaw so my nails dug into her
skin. “Listen carefully, you worthless slut. Elara is a pure angel. And you? You’re nothing but a sewer rat.”
“If I’m so disgusting, why did you touch me?” she sobbed.
“Because saints don’t kneel in back alleys. I went looking for a sinner, Scarlett. I needed a sewer for my filth. Don’t ever mistake a
sewer for a throne.”
She collapsed completely, curling into a ball on the cold cathedral floor, sobbing like a forsaken creature.
“Now,” I said, standing, and kicked her coldly.
“The toy is broken. Now it’s time to get my queen.”
“Damian!” Scarlett lunged to grab my leg. “You can’t go! She won’t forgive you!”
“Take your filthy hands off me.”
“Let’s leave together! Let’s leave New York!” she begged, frantic, “We can start over!”
She leaned in to kiss me, but all I felt was revulsion. I kicked her away and stormed toward the door. Behind me, she chased, barking like a mad dog.
“You can’t leave! I won’t let you!”
Elara’s POV
The private jet waited at JFK, engines humming softly. Destination: Florence–an art retreat my father had arranged. A way to escape
14:29
My Fiancé and Best Friend Tre…
5.9%
Chapter 9
New York, to flee the nightmares.
“Miss Winters,” a stranger called my name. He handed me a phone. “It’s a video call.”
The screen showed a hospital room. Damian lay in bed, head wrapped in bandages, bruised and battered. Weak. Fragile. Like a
dying animal.
“Elara…” His voice was hoarse, desperate. “I was on my way… I got in a car crash. Scarlett and I fought over the wheel… we hit a
guardrail.” Alexander’s voice sounded faintly in the background.
“The doctors….” he continued, choking on his words. “…say there might be permanent damage.”
Damian’s tears soaked the pillow as he begged, “Elara, I fucked up. I should never have betrayed you, should never have hurt you. I’m
nothing without you. Please… don’t leave me. I’ll die without you.”
Alexander glanced at me, hope shining in his eyes. “Miss Elara, could you please-”
“No.” My voice was cold, sharp as winter wind. Alexander froze.
“What?”
“Listen to me, Alexander,” I said, my tone flat and unyielding. “Tell your boss that the Elara he knew is dead. She died in that club.
The moment I saw their betrayal, she died. The person standing here now is a stranger. Our families are nothing to each other
anymore.”
I ended the call and tossed the phone back to the man. “Deliver a message. If anyone ever dares to bother me again, my father will
not show mercy.”
The man flinched, fear etched into his features.
“And you can tell Scarlett she won. She can have the scraps. I hope they rot together in hell.”
Turning, I boarded the plane. I didn’t look back. Not once.
