Chapter 56 Chains Of Fire

• The silence that followed her confession was thick, almost unbearable, pressing into the corners of the dimly lit suite like a suffocating veil. Damien’s eyes, sharp as blades and dark with something she could not name, remained fixed on her, and Ivy wondered if he could hear the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. She had told him more than she had intended—admitted to feelings she had tried to bury, confessions that were as dangerous as they were true. And now, she waited for the storm that would inevitably come.
• Damien did not move immediately. He stood across from her, tall and immovable, his chest rising and falling with a controlled steadiness that belied the turmoil burning beneath his skin. His silence was worse than fury, worse than raised voices or slammed fists, because in that silence lived the weight of judgment. And Ivy felt every ounce of it pressing against her, reminding her that she had laid herself bare before a man who could destroy her with a single word.
• Finally, he spoke, his voice low, rough, carrying a dangerous calm that scraped against her nerves.