Chapter 5

For the latter half of the celebration, Damon was on pins and needles.

Amidst the clinking of glasses and lilting laughter, Lydia, dressed in the evening gown he had picked for her, leaned against his side.

Damon was in a daze, his mind involuntarily seeing Elliana in Lydia's place.

He tugged irritably at his tie. An inexplicable heat crept up from his chest, as if something was irreversibly spiraling into an abyss.

He downed glass after glass of red wine, yet he felt no trace of intoxication. His mind was consumed by the image of Elliana's utterly lifeless eyes from earlier.

He remembered her collapsing onto the sofa like a broken doll, her breathing so shallow it was almost imperceptible.

And yet, he had done nothing. He had simply watched with cold detachment as she shattered, piece by piece, under the weight of the silver poison and humiliation.

"Damon, why the long face? Don't tell me you're still thinking about that bitch?"