CHAPTER THIRTY CHLOE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHLOE
THEN
TEN YEARS AGO
“Always running from me, aren’t you, Duchess?” His deep voice startles me from my thoughts.
When I heard the light footsteps in the distance, I assumed it was Ronan following to make sure I was safe or one of the attendees searching for fresh air.
Honestly, if I’d made a list of everyone I thought might follow me out here, Damon Lombardi would have been at the very bottom.
Because this is the first time we’ve been alone in…years.
He’s made sure of it, and eventually I gave up trying.
Damon has made it clear that any friendship we may have had is over, and that’s something I’ve had to learn to live with.
Even though it broke my heart in a way I never knew it could break.
I don’t turn, don’t make any effort to look away from the garden despite the way his fingers flex around my throat.
He could kill me so easily I probably wouldn’t even feel it, but that’s not why he has me cornered, and although he hates me, his hatred doesn’t extend far enough to murder me during his engagement party.
I’m not sure why I even came out here in the first place. It’s not like his engagement to Mikayla is a surprise. It’s been arranged for as long as I can remember.
But knowing something’s going to happen doesn’t make seeing it any easier.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask, keeping my voice even despite the way my pulse kicks up a notch against his fingers.
“I needed some air,” he replies, pressing himself closer until I can barely breathe through the heat at my back.
I hate how affected I am. Loathe the way my body sings at his touch despite his continued cruelty.
My eyes fall closed, and for a moment I imagine things are different.
I imagine he never woke up one day despising my very existence.
I imagine the fragile love we shared all those years ago had a chance to blossom.
But most of all, I imagine that his marriage was never agreed upon and that I wouldn’t have to watch him with another woman for the rest of time.
I’m being selfish, greedy even, but I can’t help that somewhere along the way the childish affection for my two best friends moved into something else, something more.
“Your heart’s racing, Duchess,” Damon murmurs against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver through my body. “How would your boyfriend feel to know your body craves his brother?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, not trusting my voice not to give away how true his words are.
Shame spreads through my chest because I fucking hate that his touch doesn’t repulse me. I hate that I want him despite his disdain toward me. And I hate that Ronan is none the wiser.
He chuckles, the sound both amused and cruel, only making my chest tighten more. “Really? Because the flush spreading across your pretty throat would say otherwise. And the way you’re leaning against me like a needy whore? That’s just the cherry on top.”
“I am not,” I snap, immediately trying to put space between us, but his hold on my throat makes it impossible.
“Whatever you say, Chloe.” The sound of my name on his lips is a sharp mix of pain and pleasure. It’s been so long since he’s acknowledged me as anything more than an inconvenience, and there’s a part of me that’s desperate for his kindness, even if it’s a trap.
Because that’s exactly what this is.
Damon didn’t wake up this morning and decide to be nice to me.
He didn’t see me on his brother’s arm as we congratulated him on his upcoming nuptials and decide I’m no longer his enemy.
He’s just using this as another excuse to be cruel, and even as my body begs to enjoy the rare show of kindness from someone that means so much to me, my mind knows this is just another one of his tricks.
“I need to go back inside.” I move to sidestep away from him, but he tugs me against him, wrapping his other hand around me and holding me tightly in place.
My breath whooshes from my chest when his hardness presses into my lower back, and I’m not talking about his toned chest.
No, the evidence of how I affect him is more than obvious, and his heat makes it hard to breathe.
“There you go again, trying to run from me.”
My eyes fall closed, and for a single second I let myself believe this isn’t another one of his games. That he could want me the same way I want him.
It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed my mind to drift to a place where I could have them both, where my heart could feel complete in a way I feared it never would with only Ronan.
And I fucking hate myself for it.
He is enough. He’s kind and respectful. He’s everything I always imagined I would want in a boyfriend and, in the future, husband. Ronan is the love of my life, but there will always be a part of me that loves Damon too.
“Damon,” I warn, my chest tightening at the sound of his name on my lips.
His warm lips drag over the place where my neck and shoulder meet, sending a shiver through my body at the rush of sensations that overwhelm me.
Fuck.
“What is it, Duchess?” he croons.
The hand resting across my belly moves higher, brushing over my peaked nipples, giving away how much every touch affects me.
“You have to stop,” I say weakly, because no matter how wrong it is, the last thing I want is for him to walk away.
Maybe it’s the knowledge that this is the only time this can ever happen, or perhaps it’s because I’ve wanted it for so long it feels impossible to deny myself this rare show of kindness.
“Is that what you really want, Chloe?”
“Yes.”
“Little Liar,” he chuckles. “Your body betrays you. The way your perky ass presses against my cock. Your pretty, peaked nipples so hard they could cut glass. And the blush that’s spreading all the way down your chest? It’s all telling a very different story to your pouty lips.”
I suck in a stuttered breath, trying to regain some kind of composure but quickly realizing it’s impossible. My body and mind are not on the same page about what’s happening here.
“This is your engagement party,” I remind him, hoping one of us can stop this before it can go any further. “Mikayla is going to come looking for you.”
“She might,” he agrees. “What do you think she’d do if she found you grinding on me like a bitch in heat?”
“I am not,” I snap.
Without warning, he presses me forward until my hips dig painfully into the railing of the gazebo, his hard body holding me in place.
“Answer the question, Chloe,” he growls against the shell of my ear.
“I don’t know,” I whimper as another sharp pain shoots through my hips.
There are a million differences between Ronan and his brother, but their brutality is the most obvious. Damon will always default to cruelty, where the youngest Lombardi is far gentler.
A single tear rolls down my cheek at the thought of him. Somewhere inside he’s waiting for me to return, and here I am being pinned down by his brother, my body on fire despite how wrong this is.
Maybe Damon’s right. Maybe I am a whore.
“Do you think she’d run inside to tell Ronan what a slut his precious girlfriend is?”
A fresh wave of shame hits me in the chest, and it’s only now I realize that this is just the latest installment in his torment.
How stupid of me to think he could ever really want me.
Damon has made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me, so why would I ever think his opinions of me have suddenly changed?
Bracing myself on the railing for balance, I lift my heeled foot, and with every ounce of strength I can muster, I slam it back into his shin.
A roar of pain fills the dark night, and before he has a chance to right himself, I slip out from between him and the railing, putting some much-needed space between.
“Never fucking touch me again, Lombardi,” I hiss, not bothering to turn back before running inside, my heart beating so hard against my ribs I can barely breathe.
Glancing back to make sure Damon’s not following me, I allow my pace to slow when I find no one in the darkness.
Just as I turn back to look where I’m going, I slam into a hard chest and a startled scream tears from my throat.
“Chloe, it’s just me.” Ronan’s soft words should bring me the same comfort they normally do, but they don’t. They just make the guilt eating away at me that much stronger. “Did something happen?”
I shake my head. “I thought I saw a snake.”
If only I were talking about the same creature that adorns the Lombardi crest instead of the man that wants nothing more than to see my downfall.