Chapter 18 I Don't Want To Be Weak

• The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a dull, orange glow through the tall windows of the estate. But the atmosphere in the mansion was anything but calm. The air hung heavy with tension, laced with secrets yet to be uncovered. Ivy sat curled up on the settee in Damien’s private study, wrapped in a blanket far too large for her petite frame. Her eyes, swollen from crying, were fixed on the fireplace even though it lay dormant.
• She hadn’t spoken much since Vivian had been taken down to the basement. Her heart still hadn’t caught up with the reality that she’d been saved. The ache in her chest, the helplessness of being drugged, auctioned, and betrayed—it didn’t just go away because Damien had found her. It lingered, a storm waiting to erupt.
• Damien entered the study, quietly. His footsteps were softer than usual. He knew she wasn’t ready for more questions or explanations, not yet. He placed a tray beside her with a cup of tea and sat next to her in silence. He didn’t reach for her. He knew better. But he watched her closely, his hand resting on the couch, mere inches from hers.