Elena walked quietly through the corridor, the soft hum of the music fading as she stepped out into the garden.
But as she turned the corner, her steps froze.
There he was. Damian.
And beside him stood Isabel.
Isabel's hand rested on his arm as they both shared a kiss.
The sight made something inside Elena twist painfully. Her chest felt tight.
She really couldn't see Damian's face, but all Elena could see was they were kissing and smooching. How natural it looked. Her heart sank.
"So he...." she whispered, her voice cracking. The words barely left her lips before tears filled her eyes.
She quickly turned around, her heels clicking against the stone path as she walked away, trying to steady her breathing.
But the more she tried, the more her tears fell.
"What is this, she asked herself as she wiped the tears off her eyes.
"I'm I really crying because i saw Damian kissing his ex"
Back inside, she was too lost in her thoughts to notice Viktor turning around suddenly, accidentally bumping into her and spilling his drink.
"Oh—Elena! I'm so sorry," he said quickly, reaching for a napkin. But then he saw her face. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet.
"Elena, are you okay?" he asked gently.
She blinked fast, forcing a small, broken smile. "Yes… I'm fine," she said, her voice barely steady.
Before he could ask again, she walked past him and disappeared into the crowd.
By the time she returned to the main hall, the chatter had quieted.Grandfather was giving his birthday speech.
Everyone was focused on him, clapping and smiling. But Elena just stood there, trying to keep herself together.
Then Adrian appeared beside her, his usual smug expression softened with curiosity.
"What's wrong, Did you see him with Isabel?" he asked in a low voice, clearly knowing what he was doing.
Elena stiffened, not answering. Before Adrian could continue, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Elena!" Tatiana called, walking up quickly. She glanced at Adrian with irritation before taking Elena's hand.
"Damian won't like you talking to him," she whispered firmly, pulling her away.
As they walked off to the side, Tatiana's tone softened. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?"
Elena forced a small nod, but her eyes betrayed her. "I'm fine," she whispered again.
Tatiana sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Did any guy here try talking to you because your a beauty?"
Elena let out a shaky laugh, but deep down, her heart ached with the image of Damian and Isabel still burned in her mind.
***
His hands went to her thigs.
"Oh, Damian' I have missed this so much, I've missed us Damian! " she whispered at his touch.
He planted kisses on her thighs.
Her hands caressing his body. "Damn Elena!" Damian muttered and Isabel pushed him away and got on her feet after hearing him calling her Elena.
"You just called me Elena!" Isabel uttered furiously.
"Do I look like that wh**e?" She asked stomping her feet angrily.
Damian still in his thought on why he called Elena's name, snapped out of his thoughts after Isabel referred to Elena as a wh**e.
He chuckled lowly, "Get a hold of yourself Isabel" he said in a serious tone.
"Besides my cupcake tastes better than you" he uttered and left her alone in the garden.
Isabel stood there anger boiling in her after hearing his last words.
Damian walked out of the garden, his jaw tight, the echo of him calling her name when making out with another woman was still in his head till he heard footsteps, he looked up and saw one of his men Andrei approaching him.
"Boss, I thought you should know… your uncle Leonid and his son Adrian spoke to Miss Elena."
Damian stopped in his tracks, his eyes darkening instantly. "What?" His tone dropped low, dangerous.
Damian's fist clenched around his glass until it cracked slightly. "If they think of laying a single finger on her—"
Without another word, Damian turned and walked back into the grand hall, his stride sharp, his presence pulling the air tight around him.
The crowd was still buzzing with laughter, music floating through the chandeliers—but he saw nothing except her.
Elena.
She stood near the corner of the room with Tatiana, her head down slightly, her expression fragile.
Even from across the room, Damian could tell something was wrong—her shoulders tense, her eyes distant.
He moved through the guests like a shadow, ignoring the greetings and whispers. He only stopped when someone blocked his path—Irena. His mother.
"Where were you?" she asked softly, her tone mixed with affection and mild scolding.
"Garden," Damian replied shortly, adjusting his cufflinks.
She gave him a pointed look. "You should've stayed with Elena. She's not used to these events."
His jaw softened just slightly. "I'm going to her now," he said before stepping past her.
But when he finally reached Elena and she noticed him approaching, her eyes widened for just a second—and then she turned away.
She didn't wait for him. Didn't say a word. She just… walked.
Straight to Viktor.
Damian
"Is she avoiding me?" He asked himself.
Viktor leaned casually against the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching Elena approach.
She stopped beside him, pretending to fix her hair, though he could tell she was trying to avoid someone's gaze.
"Did you just walk past Damian?" Viktor asked, one brow lifting, a teasing grin on his lips.
Elena didn't answer. Her hands twisted slightly around the hem of her dress, her chest rising with a small sigh.
"Tell me…" she said softly, her tone calm but her eyes heavy with something deeper. "How was he with Isabel… when they were together?"
That question made Viktor blink. He wasn't expecting that. He straightened, setting his drink down.
"You're asking about that?" he said slowly, still studying her face.
"Well," he began, swirling the last bit of whiskey in his glass, "Damian and Isabel were more of a storm than a romance. Loud, fast, messy.
She loved attention—he loved control. They burned hot but never lasted. He tolerated her, that's all. You can't compare yourself to that."
Elena looked down, biting her lip, not realizing how much her expression gave away.
Viktor leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Why are you asking me this, Elena? Did something happen?"
She was about to respond when a sultry laugh interrupted them.
A curvy woman in a crimson dress—someone Viktor definitely knew from his long list of flings—walked up, her perfume wrapping around them.
"Viktor," she purred, tracing a finger down his sleeve, "you promised me a night, remember?"
Viktor gave Elena an apologetic grin. "Duty calls," he said playfully, giving her a wink before following the woman into the crowd.