You Can’t Run

The hall stood still as Damien made his way to the platform. The chattering, slurping of champagne, and whispers of his presence all came to an abrupt stop.

He looked at the audience, carefully picking his next words.

When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with just the right amount of confidence to keep the crowd entertained.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "It's a pleasure to welcome you all tonight. I see many familiar faces - some of you have been regulars at this event for years, yet still somehow manage to lose every major bid- your persistence is admirable." He said with a light chuckle.

Soft laughter rippled through the audience. A few murmurs of mock protest rose, but Damien let them settle before continuing.

"Of course, tonight isn't just about winning," he looked up straight at the crowd before his eyes rested on a particular section where Ryan was seated, still and pale.

"It's about the thrill of the chase, about knowing when to strike…." He said, his voice twisted in danger "and when to fold."

Damien took his time, revelling in his prey's constantly changing expression. "So," he concluded raising his glass, "get drunk on fine wine and may the best bidders win."

The hall erupted into applause as Damien made his way down from the podium.

Every step he took felt like a tighter squeeze in Ryan's chest.

Each word from Damien's lips made his throat dry.

His pulse raced as he gripped the edge of his suit as if the fabric could somehow ground him. The walls felt like they were closing in on him and he needed an escape.

He turned to Sienna, forcing a strained smile. "I'm stepping out for some air."

She barely glanced at him, engrossed in the discussion at their table. "Mmh, sure."

His movements were stiff at first, slow and measured so as not to attract attention.

But as Damien descended with the same unnerving calm he had always possessed, Ryan's panic surged. It clawed at his chest urging him to move faster.

In a fit of shock, he turned sharply, colliding straight into Chloe who was deeply immersed in Damien's address.

A startled gasp escaped her lips as the impact sent her stumbling slightly backwards. "What the hell?" Chloe snapped, steadying herself. Glasses clinked on trays nearby as waiters bumped into one another. and heads turned towards them.

His heart began to hammer against his chest. 

But then he felt the room stifle, he paused as he turned to look at the crowd who had witnessed everything.

He saw Chloe who was steadying from her fall, Sienna whose eyes showed nothing but embarrassment and in the far corner of the room his eyes locked with his predator….but Damien said nothing, did nothing.

He didn't step forward, he didn't narrow his eyes in immediate confrontation. He simply watched, his expression plain. Then just as Ryan braced himself for the inevitable, Damien walked away.

Ryan suddenly found his breath again. He forced out a breathless chuckle, stepping back.

"Shit, sorry"

He didn't wait for her response instead in a flash, he bolted out the door.

_____

Chloe settled in her seat, still irritated by Ryan's recklessness. She adjusted her dress while wiping off the wine stain with a paper towel.

The atmosphere in the hall had shifted as the bids were getting intense. 

The air buzzed with anticipation as the next item was unveiled.

The auctioneer stepped onto the stage, adjusting his microphone as the room settled into an expectant hush. He flashed a smooth smile before gesturing toward the next painting, a striking masterpiece.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the next piece up for bidding is Celestial Veil, a rare and breathtaking work by Marcello D'Orsi. This is one of his final paintings before his passing—a true collector's item."

The spotlight illuminated the massive canvas, deep blues and silvers swirling together like liquid stars.

"The bidding will open at one million dollars."

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but it wasn't hesitation—it was anticipation.

Almost immediately, a paddle shot up.

"One million. Bid placed by Mr. Laurent."

"One-point-five million." Another bidder joined.

Chloe leaned forward slightly in her seat, fingers grazing the edge of her paddle. She didn't know if she should join in.

"Two million." A woman near the front called out.

Noah, seated beside her, arched a brow. "You're going for this?" 

Chloe smirked and raised her paddle. "Two-point-five million."

The auctioneer's gaze swept the room. "We have two-point-five million from Miss Bennett. Do I hear three?"

A pause settled in the room and then—

"Three million."

Chloe turned her head, already knowing who it was.

Damien. Of course.

Their eyes locked, a silent charge sparking between them.

"Three million from Mr. Cross," the auctioneer announced. "Do I hear three-point-five?"

Chloe lifted her paddle. "Three-point-five million."

Damien didn't hesitate. "Four million."

She exhaled slowly. He wasn't even looking at the painting. He was looking at her.

The auctioneer smiled, sensing the tension. "Four million from Mr. Cross! Do I hear four-point-five?"

Chloe tapped her fingers against the paddle. It wasn't about the painting anymore. It was about not letting Damien win.

"Four-point-five million."

Damien's lips curled slightly as if entertained. "Five million."

A hush fell over the audience.

Noah muttered under his breath, "You could let this go, you know."

Her grip tightened. She should. She should let it go.

But she didn't. "Six million."

Damien raised his paddle again. "Six-point-five million."

Six-point-five million from Mr Cross."

"Seven million." Chloe countered.

The entire room turned toward Damien.

The auctioneer, almost breathless, raised his hand. "Seven from Miss Bennett! Mr. Cross, do we have seven-point-five?"

Chloe waited, her pulse thrumming.

Damien leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lazily against the table. He looked at Chloe with an expression neither of them could explain.

And then—he lowered his hand.

"Seven million going once… going twice…"

A pause settled in between the attendees.

"Sold! To Miss Chloe Bennett for seven million dollars!"

A round of applause swept through the room, but Chloe barely heard it.

She turned to Damien. He didn't look frustrated. He didn't look like he had lost.

He looked like he had let her win. She caught the smile on his face and her stomach twisted. Why?

She should have felt victorious, triumphant. Instead, all she could feel was the way Damien's eyes lingered on her.

And that bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

_____

Outside, Ryan was spiralling. Sienna had followed him and her patience was wearing thin.

"What is wrong with you?" She demanded. Her arms folded as she blocked his path.

"You've been acting like a caged animal all night."

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to mask his anxiety. "It's nothing Sienna, just drop it."

"Drop it?" She scoffed. "You've been embarrassing me all night."

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Go back inside."

"Not when you look like you've seen a ghost."

But Ryan had. In a way. But he couldn't tell her that.

"Or is this because of Chloe?" She asked.

Ryan looked up, confusion clouding his face. "What?"

"Are you jealous because she came with someone else?"

"That's ridiculous," he said.

"No, the only thing ridiculous is you humiliating yourself in front of everyone."

"Sienna, just fucking go inside, okay? Just go."

Ryan growled, he was already losing his cool and Sienna kept making it worse.

She stepped forward, challenging him.

"And what would you do if I don't?"

———

Back inside the evening transitioned into dancing.

Noah extended a hand toward Chloe. "Dance with me?" 

She hesitated briefly before accepting, allowing him to lead her to the floor.

The music was steady and rhythmic, but she barely focused on the steps.

"You don't look so bright." He said noticing how sluggish she moved.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm not having the best night." 

"Ah!…well on the bright side. You outbid Damien Cross." Noah gave a light chuckle.

"Well, if you call that a win." She said forcing a smile.

"So," he said casually, "you and Damien."

Chloe scoffed. "There is no 'me and Damien'"

"Right," he said. "Is that why you two just had a bidding war?"

Before she could respond, Noah nudged his head at an incoming figure.

"Speak of the devil." 

Chloe turned as she heard a voice ask.

"May I steal her for a moment?"

Chloe spun to find Damien stretching his hand, her pulse faltered as he stood there. His gaze was steady, awaiting her response.

Noah hesitated, but with a light-tipped smile, he nodded and stepped aside.

Damien's hands found hers, not possessively, not intimately, just firmly as he led her into the dance.

"You look beautiful tonight." He said as he followed her steps.

"Well, you don't look so bad yourself."

"Is that a compliment, Bennett?" Damien asked as he firmed his hands on her waist.

Chloe arched a brow at him. "Why did you let me win? She asked.

"Damien's lips twitched slightly. "Would you rather I didn't?"

"That's not an answer."

"Well, that's what gentlemen do." He said, spinning her around.

"And you're a gentleman, I suppose?" 

"When I need to be." He said, throwing her a wink.

Chloe narrowed her eyes at him, something had shifted and for the first time, she felt something other than disdain toward him.

And she didn't know if she liked it.

From a distance, Noah watched. How did a night of flattering end up with his date dancing with another man?

Without a word, he turned and left.

Damien who had noticed every expression he made, halted.

"You should go after him," he said. Pointing toward Noah.

Chloe lingered a bit, she nodded before she eventually followed.

As she made her way through the crowd, she caught up with Noah outside.

"Noah wait," she yelled. Catching her breath.

"Where are you going?"

"Well, it seems like you've got yourself covered for the rest of the night." He said, his tone laced with disappointment.

"Come on Noah."

"It's okay," he said. "I'm not mad.

"Then why does it feel like you are?"

"Right. Because I had to stand there and watch you and cross -" he took a deep breath. "Forget it."

"Watch me and Cross what?….it was just a dance."

"Sure, and he just lets you win the bid too."

Chloe didn't know what to say and as Noah watched her, he saw the flicker of uncertainty in her expression.

"Good night Chloe," he said as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek, walking away.

As she turned back toward the entrance, a sharp voice cut through the night.

"Are you seriously going to act like I'm imagining things?" Sienna's voice was tense, edged with frustration.

Chloe turned her head, her gaze landing on the couple standing a few feet away. Ryan had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture stiff, defensive.

"I already told you, you're making a big deal out of nothing."

Sienna scoffed, folding her arms. "Nothing? You've been acting shitty all night."

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Just leave it alone."

Chloe tilted her head, watching the exchange with mild interest. It was rare to see Sienna anything less than perfectly composed, always playing the role of the devoted girlfriend. But now?

She looked… desperate and Ryan looked trapped.

Chloe smirked slightly. So their perfect relationship wasn't so perfect after all.

Shaking her head, she turned back toward the entrance. Whatever was going on between them wasn't her problem.

And yet, as she stepped inside, something about the way Ryan kept glancing around—the tension in his shoulders, the flicker of unease in his expression—stuck with her.

What are you so afraid of, Ryan?