The evening air was crisp as the final rays of sun dipped behind the skyline. Inside Damien's penthouse, soft golden lighting spilled across the polished floors, warm against the expansive glass windows overlooking the city. The space was quiet—almost too quiet—after the buzzing engagement meeting earlier that day.
The Xu and Lu families had finally sat down together, voices filled with cautious warmth and long-held expectations. Dates were discussed. Plans were tentatively made. Smiles exchanged. And when Liyana slipped her hand into Damien's under the table, he hadn't let go once.
Now, it was just the two of them.
Damien loosened the collar of his shirt as he stood by the minibar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the veins along his forearms—Liyana's gaze flicked to them for a moment too long before she turned away, pretending to admire the view.
"Want one?" he asked, his voice low.
She shook her head, settling on the edge of the plush sofa, crossing her legs. The slit of her deep plum dress revealed a glimpse of her thigh, and Damien's eyes caught the motion—just a flicker, but she noticed.
"You've been quiet since the meeting," she said.
"I'm processing," he replied, walking over to her and setting the glass down. "And trying to believe this isn't a dream."
She smirked. "Because we're engaged?"
"No," he said, his tone shifting as he sat beside her, "because you're here… like this… with me."
For a moment, nothing was said. Their eyes locked. The weight of history, longing, and stolen moments pressed in.
Liyana reached out, her fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. "You still look at me like I'll disappear."
"Because I've almost lost you too many times."
He leaned in, his breath brushing against her cheek, but didn't kiss her.
The tension stretched.
"I'm not going anywhere, Damien," she whispered.
"Promise me."
"I just did."
A silence lingered, heavy with everything unspoken. Damien's hand slid across the space between them, fingers brushing her bare knee, resting there with quiet intent. Liyana's breath caught—not from fear, but from how deeply she felt the heat of that simple touch.
"I want you," he said softly. "But I'll wait until you ask for me."
She leaned into him, lips brushing his ear. "What if I already am?"
His grip on her knee tightened slightly. "You're playing a dangerous game, Liyana."
"I think we've always been dangerous together," she whispered, eyes hooded, voice like silk.
But just as the moment began to burn too brightly, she stood, walking toward the balcony. Her heels echoed against the marble, leaving Damien seated, jaw tight with restraint.
"Come," she called, looking over her shoulder. "Show me the stars."
He followed, the night wind catching his shirt, the space between them charged. As they stood side by side, the city glittering below, his arm slipped around her waist. She didn't pull away.
In the silence, intimacy bloomed—not loud, not rushed, but deep and anchored.
When she rested her head against his chest, she felt the steady beat of his heart.
"I love you, Damien," she said into the dark.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"And I've loved you," he whispered back, "since before I even knew how to love."