–Damon–
She always stirred something primal in me. Desire clung to her like perfume—I could never escape it. My plan was simple: stay here, drown in her presence, indulge in what little time we had to call a honeymoon. But she had her own plans—shopping for a specific Korean product, a hair spa appointment, and all the little things she couldn't go without. I went along, swiping my card with no protest. Anything she wanted, she'd get. Anything.
"You look gorgeous, my love," I said, watching her emerge like some divine apparition.
"I'm ready for a fancy dinner, darling," she replied, extending her left hand with a grace that made my breath hitch.
I took it, eyes narrowing at the sight of her bare fingers. "Where are your rings?"
She didn't answer.
"You can't leave without them."
A soft, dismissive hum. That was all.
