CHAPTER 9

The moment Sienna stepped into the club, the familiar sights and sounds of the nightlife enveloped her. The chatter, the music, the dimly lit corners filled with laughter—all of it felt like a strange comfort. But tonight, there was something missing. Something—or rather, someone.

“Marco!” Sienna called out as she spotted him behind the bar, a wide grin spreading across her face.

“Ah, there you are,” Marco said, shaking his head but smiling all the same. “I was wondering when you’d show up. You’re late tonight.”

“I know, I know,” Sienna said, crossing the bar to give him a tight hug. “I almost didn’t make it here.”

“Oh, I bet. We almost had to send a search party out for you,” Marco teased, his arms around her briefly before pulling away. “But here you are, looking like you’ve been through the ringer.”

“Honestly, Marco, I thought I was going to die today,” she admitted with a sigh, sitting down on one of the stools behind the bar. She took a moment to collect herself before continuing. “I made a confession today.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “A confession? Like a proper confession?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice low. “At the church.”

“No way,” Marco said, laughing out loud. “Sienna, you? At church? What did you do? Steal someone’s hymnbook?”

Sienna rolled her eyes. “No. I mean, it’s not like I’m some kind of saint, but I needed to clear my head. I confessed about—” she hesitated for a second, not sure how to phrase it.

Marco raised both brows in interest, leaning closer. “About what?”

Sienna sighed. “About my... lust for Damian.”

Marco blinked. “Wait, Damian? Our Damian?”

“Yes, our Damian,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “And I was hoping that it would make me feel better. But it didn’t.”

Marco chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t even know how to respond to that. But I guess I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”

“Shut up,” she said, playfully shoving him. “It’s not like I wanted it to happen. It just... did.”

Marco looked at her with genuine concern now. “Well, you know you can always talk to me. We’ll sort this out.”

“I know. I just needed to get it off my chest.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the bar. “Anyway, enough about that. Let’s tend to the customers. We’ll talk after work.”

“Deal,” Marco said with a wink, reaching for the cocktail shaker.

The night began to flow smoothly as they took care of the customers, chatting and laughing in between serving drinks. Sienna kept herself busy, trying to keep her mind occupied as much as possible, though every so often, her thoughts drifted back to the confession.

The bar had picked up pace, and Sienna was once again in her element, mixing drinks and chatting with the regulars. The usual crowd was here—familiar faces who came to unwind and let loose. Most of them had already settled in for the night, but a few women lingered near the bar, talking amongst themselves.

Sienna caught snippets of their conversation as she worked.

“He’s not here tonight,” one woman said, sounding disappointed.

“I know, right? I was really hoping to see him. Where’s Damian? He’s always here by now,” another woman added, twirling her drink in her hand.

“Seriously, it’s like the night’s ruined without him.”

Sienna couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Damian has that effect on people, huh?” Marco said with a teasing smile, noticing her reaction.

“Apparently,” Sienna muttered, pouring drinks with a little more force than necessary.

“Don’t be so hard on him,” Marco said, winking. “He is a charming guy. I’ve seen how the ladies look at him when he walks in.”

Sienna narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure you’ve seen it.”

Marco laughed, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “Come on, Sienna, you’re not fooling anyone. He’s hot. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it.”

“Marco, please. I don’t need a recap of how everyone knows how attractive Damian is.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. But you know what I mean.”

As the night wore on, the customers continued to ask about Damian’s whereabouts, each of them more disappointed than the last. Finally, around closing time, just as Sienna was finishing up cleaning glasses, she heard the familiar sound of the door opening.

She looked up, her heart skipping a beat.

There he was.

Damian stepped into the club with that confident air of his, scanning the room like he owned it. His eyes immediately found Sienna, and a smirk played on his lips as he walked toward the bar. The women at the counter immediately perked up, whispering to each other.

Sienna could feel the heat in her cheeks, but she fought to keep her composure.

Damian leaned against the bar casually, his gaze flicking from Marco to Sienna. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his tone playful. “I heard you’ve been busy without me tonight.”

Sienna crossed her arms, trying to act like everything was normal. “Not too busy, but yeah, people have been asking about you.”

“I’m sure they have,” he said, his smile widening. “They miss me, huh?”

Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “Damian, you have a way with women, don’t you?”

Damian shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

Sienna rolled her eyes, trying not to let him see how much his confidence was rattling her.

“So, what brings you in so late tonight?” Marco asked, his eyes twinkling. “Did you need a drink?”

“Actually, yeah,” Damian replied, glancing at Sienna. “Sienna, could you make me my usual? The sweet and sour drink?”

Sienna blinked, taken aback by his request. “Uh, sure.” She quickly moved to prepare the drink, trying to keep her focus on the task at hand.

Damian leaned in, watching her with an intensity that made her heart race. “I always enjoy watching you work,” he said, his voice low and almost... intimate.

She fought the urge to shiver. “Don’t start,” she muttered, pouring the ingredients into the shaker with more force than necessary.

As she mixed the drink, Marco exchanged a knowing look with Damian, clearly enjoying the tension between them. Sienna handed Damian the glass once she was done, keeping her eyes averted.

“Here you go,” she said flatly.

Damian took the glass, taking a slow sip. “Perfect,” he said with a satisfied smile. “You really do make the best drinks.”

Sienna didn’t reply, turning her attention to cleaning the counter.

Sienna tried to keep her hands steady as she wiped down the counter, but she could feel Damian’s eyes on her. His stare wasn’t casual—it was piercing, almost as if he was peeling back her layers and exposing every secret she desperately wanted to keep hidden. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to focus on the customers rather than the way her heart pounded in her chest.

Damian sat at the far end of the bar, his fingers lazily swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He wasn’t speaking, just observing, and somehow that was worse. She hated that she could feel the weight of his gaze, hated that it sent a shiver down her spine. She had spent all day convincing herself that she could handle being around him, but now, with him so close, all those little reassurances crumbled like dust.

As she poured a drink for a customer, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"I was wondering where you disappeared off to," a sultry female voice purred. "I was disappointed when I didn’t see you behind the bar."

Sienna glanced up to see a blonde woman leaning against the counter, her manicured fingers twirling a lock of golden hair. She was stunning, the kind of effortlessly beautiful that made heads turn the moment she entered a room. Sienna recognized her as one of the women who had become a regular in the short time Damian had been bartending.

The woman ran a delicate hand along Damian’s face, her nails lightly scratching against the dark stubble on his jaw. "You should’ve told me you were taking a break," she said, pouting.

Damian smirked, not moving away but not exactly leaning into her touch either. "Didn’t know I needed to keep you updated on my schedule," he replied smoothly, taking another sip of his drink.

The blonde giggled, tilting her head. "You should. A girl gets lonely, you know. And I was really hoping for another… fun night."

Sienna stiffened. She didn’t want to care. She shouldn’t care. But something about the way the woman touched him, the way Damian didn’t immediately push her away, sent a surge of something sharp through her chest.

Jealousy?

No. That couldn’t be it.

She forced herself to focus on the drink in front of her, but her hands clenched into fists beneath the bar.

Damian’s expression remained unreadable as he reached for his glass again. "You had fun because I made your drinks right. That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?"

The blonde chuckled, her red-painted lips curving into a playful smile. "You know that’s not what I meant, Damian. But I wouldn’t mind you making me something strong tonight. Maybe something… sweet and sour?"

Sienna’s grip tightened around the bottle she was holding. That was Damian’s signature drink. She knew that because she’d seen him make it countless times. The fact that this woman was requesting it like an inside joke between them made her stomach twist.

Damian finally pulled away from the blonde’s touch, his attention flicking briefly to Sienna. "Unfortunately for you," he said, his voice as smooth as velvet, "I’m not the one making drinks tonight. But maybe if you ask nicely, Sienna will do it for you."

The woman followed his gaze, her eyes landing on Sienna for the first time. She barely spared her a glance before turning back to Damian. "Oh, I don’t think she could make it quite the same way you do," she murmured.

Sienna exhaled sharply through her nose. That was it. She reached for a shaker, throwing in the ingredients with more force than necessary. If this woman wanted a drink, she’d get a damn drink, and it would be just as good—if not better—than Damian’s.

She shook the cocktail aggressively, her movements precise but laced with irritation. She refused to acknowledge the way Damian was watching her, the way his lips curled slightly as if he was amused by her reaction.

Finally, she poured the drink into a glass and slid it across the counter. "Sweet and sour," she said, her voice level despite the fire burning inside her.

The blonde took a slow sip, licking her lips. "Not bad," she said, her tone dismissive. "But there’s something missing."

Sienna arched a brow. "I guess that’s just a personal preference," she said coolly. "Maybe you just like the taste of Damian’s hands on your glass."

Damian choked on his drink. Marco, who had been wiping glasses a few feet away, let out a bark of laughter.

The blonde’s eyes narrowed slightly, but instead of getting angry, she smiled—a slow, knowing smile. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, her voice dripping with condescension, "if you wanted his hands on something, you could just ask him yourself."

Sienna felt her face heat. Her lips parted to fire back a response, but before she could, Damian finally intervened.

"That’s enough," he said, his voice low but firm. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the bar. "Sienna makes a damn good drink, and if you don’t appreciate it, then maybe you should find another bartender."

The blonde blinked, clearly not expecting him to defend Sienna. She pouted dramatically before taking another sip. "Fine," she said. "I suppose I’ll let it slide this time."

With that, she strutted away, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappeared into the crowd.

Sienna let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

Marco leaned over, nudging her shoulder. "Damn, that was fun to watch," he muttered. "Didn’t know you had it in you."

Sienna rolled her eyes. "I’m not in the mood for this right now, Marco."

Marco grinned, clearly enjoying every second of it. "Oh, come on. That was gold. You basically just called her out in front of Damian."

Sienna groaned, rubbing her temples. She needed to get a grip.

Damian, meanwhile, was still watching her. He hadn’t said a word since the blonde left, but there was something in his expression—something unreadable.

She crossed her arms, meeting his gaze head-on. "What?"

He tilted his head slightly. "Didn’t know you cared so much about how I make drinks."

Sienna clenched her jaw. "I don’t."

Damian chuckled. "You sure? Because you seemed awfully invested in that little exchange."

She hated the way he was looking at her—like he had figured something out, like he knew exactly what was going on inside her head.

"You’re imagining things," she said, turning away.

"I doubt that."

His voice was too smooth, too knowing, and it made her want to throw something at him. Instead, she focused on serving the next customer, pretending that her body wasn’t still buzzing with irritation—and something else.

As the night went on, Sienna did everything she could to ignore Damian’s presence. But every time he moved, every time he spoke, she felt it. The tension. The heat.

And worst of all?

She didn’t hate it.

When closing time finally came, Sienna exhaled in relief. She hurried to the restroom, hoping that when she returned, Damian would already be gone.

But when she stepped out of the club and walked toward her apartment, her stomach dropped.

Damian was there.

Leaning casually against the door of her apartment, waiting.

Her pulse spiked as she approached, her feet hesitating for just a second before she forced herself to keep walking.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Damian smirked, his eyes flicking over her face. "Thought I’d walk you home."

Sienna scoffed. "I don’t need an escort."

"Maybe not," he said, pushing off the doorframe. "But we both know you don’t really want me to leave."

Her breath hitched, and she hated that he was right.

Damian stepped closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Tell me, Sienna," he said, his fingers lightly brushing against hers, "did making that confession to the priest really make you feel better?"

Her throat went dry.

She should push him away.

She should say something sharp, something to shut him down.

But all she could do was stand there, heart pounding, as Damian leaned in, his lips ghosting over her ear.

"You keep running," he whispered, "but we both know where you’ll end up."

Sienna swallowed hard, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine.

And deep down, she knew he was right.

Sienna’s breath hitched as Damian’s grip on her waist tightened, his fingers pressing into her like he had every right to touch her that way. Her body betrayed her, heat pooling in her core, making her knees weak. She wanted to fight it—to fight him—but he was so close, his scent wrapping around her like an intoxicating drug.

"Damian, please stop," she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

"No."

Her heart pounded at the finality in his tone. Damian wasn’t the kind of man who took no for an answer—not when he had set his sights on something. Or in this case, someone.

"Stop," she repeated, her voice more firm this time, even though her body was shaking. "I need space, Damian."

Damian exhaled through his nose, but he didn’t let go. If anything, his hands slid lower, resting possessively on her hips. His dark eyes bore into her, daring her to pull away—daring her to deny what was happening between them.

"Damian, people are watching," she hissed, trying to push at his chest.

He didn’t even glance around. "Just coworkers. No customers," he said casually. "And I don’t care about them."

Her lips parted in shock. How could he be so damn confident, so unapologetic about the way he wanted her?

"You are off tomorrow night," he continued smoothly. "You’ll be having drinks with me here tomorrow night. Okay?"

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A declaration.

Sienna wanted to scream, to argue, to tell him he was insane if he thought she was just going to sit and have drinks with him like they weren’t constantly circling each other like two animals in a war for dominance.

But her words failed her.

Because deep down, she knew she was going to say yes.

And that terrified her.

Instead of responding, she pushed his hands off her and stormed past him, heading for the exit. She didn’t look back, didn’t acknowledge the way her entire body ached from his touch.

Her apartment wasn’t far, but the walk felt like an eternity. By the time she reached her door, her hands were shaking so badly that she fumbled with the keys.

She finally shoved the door open, stepping inside, and the second it closed behind her, she let out a strangled scream.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she paced back and forth, her emotions warring inside her.

She was giving in to him.

The one thing she swore she wouldn’t do.

"Fuck!" she muttered under her breath, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes.

She needed to get a grip.

She had spent weeks fighting this pull toward Damian, refusing to let him get under her skin. But it was becoming impossible. He was relentless, breaking down every one of her walls, slipping into the cracks she didn’t even know existed.

And worst of all?

She liked it.

She liked the way he looked at her like he was hungry for something only she could give him. She liked the way his hands fit around her waist like they belonged there. She liked the way his voice sent shivers down her spine, how his presence alone was enough to make her heart race.

She wanted him.

And that was dangerous.

Because Damian didn’t just take what was offered—he took everything.

And she wasn’t sure she’d survive him.

She sat down on the couch, running a hand through her hair. Maybe if she ignored him tomorrow, he’d get bored. Maybe if she pretended this wasn’t happening, it would go away.

Maybe.

But deep down, she already knew the truth.

Damian wasn’t going anywhere.

And neither was her desire for him.