Chapter 5 - Dinner with the devil

The restaurant was one of those glossy, high-ceilinged temples of excess crystal chandeliers dripping light onto white linen tables, waiters gliding silently like shadows. Damien had chosen it, of course. He always liked to be seen in places where appearances mattered.

Raven arrived in a dress that clung like liquid night, her hair a glossy curtain over one shoulder. Emily would never have worn it too daring, too bold. But Raven wanted Damien to choke on the difference.

He was already seated when she approached, a bottle of wine breathing on the table. Damien Louis was handsome in the way wolves were sharp smile, sharp eyes, dangerous if you didn’t know how to bleed them first.

When he saw her, his smile widened. “Emily. You look…” His gaze dragged slowly down her body. “…different.”

Raven slid into the chair opposite, crossing her legs with deliberate grace. “Do I?” she asked softly, her lips curving.

Damien studied her, his eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t used to her Emily meeting his stare without flinching. He wasn’t used to her voice carrying that silken edge.

“More confident,” he said finally, pouring her a glass of wine. “I like it.”

Of course you do, Raven thought. You like anything you think you control.

She lifted the glass, swirling the liquid lazily. “Confidence looks good on me, don’t you think?”

Damien leaned forward, his smile tightening. “It does. And it makes me wonder why we ever ended things.”

Raven tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Because you were sleeping with my stepsister, perhaps?”

The words were soft, casual but they landed like knives. Damien’s smile faltered for just a second before he recovered.

“That was… complicated,” he said smoothly. “Stephanie and I….”

“ deserve each other,” Raven cut in, setting her glass down. Her eyes glittered, cold and sharp. “And you think I don’t know how you helped her bleed this company dry?”

Damien froze, his mask slipping again. “Emily, listen!”

“No,” she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. “You listen. I may look like the woman you used to toy with, but I’m not her anymore. The days of me being weak are over.”

Damien stared at her, the muscles in his jaw working. He searched her face as though trying to reconcile the woman in front of him with the one he had once controlled.

And failing.

⸻

Luguard was never far. He stood discreetly by the bar, his broad frame blending into shadow, but his eyes never left her. He watched every shift in her body language, every flicker of Damien’s expression.

When Damien leaned closer, lowering his voice, Raven leaned back deliberately, her lips curving. She could feel Luguard’s gaze burning into the space between them, sharp as a blade.

“Emily,” Damien said quietly, “we can still fix this. You and me, together we could run this company. Stephanie doesn’t matter. She never did.”

Raven arched a brow. “You betray me with her, and now you want me to believe she never mattered? That’s your pitch?”

Damien’s hand slid across the table, reaching for hers.

Before he could touch her, Raven withdrew her hand, her smile never faltering. “You always did mistake my silence for weakness. But silence can be sharper than a scream.”

The waiter appeared with their meals, breaking the moment. Raven lifted her fork gracefully, dismissing Damien without a word.

He stared at her for a long moment, then leaned back, frustration tightening his features. He wasn’t winning. And Damien hated not winning.

⸻

When the dinner ended, Raven let him walk her out, her heels clicking against marble. Outside, the night air was crisp, headlights flashing across sleek cars at the valet stand.

Damien caught her arm lightly, his smile trying for charm but fraying at the edges. “Emily… whatever’s changed in you, I want to understand it. I want to be part of it.”

Raven turned to him, her smile cold, her eyes glittering. “You’ll understand soon enough, Damien. But you won’t like the ending.”

She pulled her arm free and stepped into the waiting car.

Luguard was already inside, his dark gaze flicking from her face to Damien’s furious figure as the door closed.

As the car pulled away, the silence between them was thick. Raven leaned back, crossing her legs slowly, deliberately. “Well,” she said lightly, “that was entertaining.”

Luguard’s jaw was tight, his eyes forward. “You’re playing with fire.”

Raven tilted her head, watching him. “And you’re here to put it out, aren’t you?”

For the first time, he turned to her fully. His gaze was sharp, hard but beneath it was something else. Something hotter.

“Only if you want me to,” he said, his voice low, rough.

The air between them snapped, thick with unspoken tension. Raven’s lips curved, her heart pounding not from fear, but from the thrill of it.

She leaned closer, her voice a whisper. “Careful, Luguard. One day, you’ll forget which side of the fire you’re standing on.”

And before he could answer, she leaned back, her smile sharp as the night swallowed them whole.

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