A Night Out With Damien

Riley

Wear something red. Bring a friend. I'll pick you up at 9.

A smirk tugs at my lips as I read it. Of course. Damien doesn't ask—he just tells. It's part of his charm, the way he exudes control without even trying.

Still, the command catches me off guard. Something red? The only thing I have that comes to mind is a dress I haven't worn in ages—too bold for Callum's taste. But tonight? Tonight, I'll wear it.

I call Lea almost immediately.

"You busy tonight?" I ask, not bothering with any preamble.

"Depends," she replies, her voice curious. "Why?"

"I got a text from Damien," I say, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. "He told me to wear something red and to bring a friend. I figured you'd be the perfect partner in crime."

Lea lets out a low whistle. "Damien Frost? Red? Partner in crime? Yeah, count me in. Where are we going?"