The black bulletproof SUV rolled to a smooth stop outside the heavily guarded entrance of the Michelin-starred restaurant.
The doorman rushed forward and pulled the heavy door open.
Brook took a deep breath, preparing to step out into the freezing night.
Damon suddenly reached across the seat.
His large hand grabbed the thin strap of her Dior dress that had slipped down her shoulder.
He pulled it back up, his rough knuckles deliberately brushing against her cold collarbone.
Remember who you belong to.
He whispered, the warning vibrating with suppressed violence.
Brook did not turn her head.
She slapped his hand away.
She stepped out of the car, her heels clicking sharply on the pavement, and walked straight through the revolving glass doors.
Damon sat in the dark cabin, watching her back disappear.
The shadows in his eyes grew darker, swallowing all the light.
He did not tell M. Black to drive away.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Carmelo Woods.
Inside the restaurant, the hostess led Brook through the opulent, softly lit dining room.
They walked toward the highly exclusive VIP section in the back.
Brook immediately spotted Dr. Julian Croft sitting by the window.
He wore a tailored navy suit, his posture relaxed and elegant.
Julian stood up the second he saw her.
He pulled her chair out and offered a polite compliment about her dress.
Brook forced a professional smile onto her face and sat down.
She tried to push the physical memory of Damon's heavy body out of her mind.
As she reached for her water glass, her eyes caught movement at a booth diagonally across from them.
A woman in a custom Chanel suit was laughing loudly.
It was her half-sister, Aliyah Velazquez.
Brook's stomach dropped.
She looked at the man sitting across from Aliyah.
It was Carmelo Woods, Damon's best friend.
Aliyah turned her head, her eyes locking directly onto Brook.
A toxic, calculating smile spread across Aliyah's face.
She picked up her champagne flute and raised it slightly in Brook's direction, a silent declaration of war.
Brook's fingers tightened around her glass until her knuckles turned white.
This was not a coincidence.
The restaurant was a trap.
Julian noticed the sudden tension in her shoulders and asked if she was feeling cold.
Brook shook her head, forcing her eyes back to her date, trying to maintain the illusion of a normal conversation.
Outside on the street, Damon sat in the SUV, holding his phone to his ear.
Carmelo was giving him a live play-by-play from inside.
He is leaning in close. She is smiling at him. They look very comfortable.
Carmelo exaggerated the details, his voice dripping with amusement.
Damon's jaw locked so tight he felt a muscle pull in his neck.
His breathing turned heavy and ragged.
He pressed the lit end of the cigar directly against the car's custom leather armrest. The sickening smell of burning hide instantly filled the small space, matching the destructive urge clawing at his insides.
Carmelo casually added that Aliyah was dropping hints about Brook's mother doing dirty business.
Damon did not care about the Velazquez family drama.
His brain was entirely consumed by the image of Brook smiling at another man.
He shoved the car door open and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
He ignored M. Black's warning look and took three heavy steps toward the restaurant entrance.
His body was radiating pure violence.
But as his hand reached for the brass handle of the door, he froze.
I will hate you for the rest of my life.
Her voice echoed in his head, freezing the blood in his veins.
If he walked in there and dragged her out, he would lose her permanently.
Damon stepped back into the freezing wind.
He ripped his tie completely off and threw it onto the pavement.
He stared through the thick glass windows, his eyes wild and desperate like a starving wolf.
He turned to M. Black.
Call the security team. Lock down every exit on this block.
His voice was a low, terrifying growl.
He was not going to interrupt her dinner.
But he was going to make damn sure no other man took her home tonight.
