Backstory – Damon’s POV

She was never supposed to belong to Michael. But she did. And I let it happen.

I watched her from the shadows even back then. Always just out of reach, always wrapped around someone else’s arm, her smile too bright, her laugh too soft. A distraction I hated and needed all at once.

She was Michael’s girl. Even when we all knew he didn’t love her.

He wanted Rika. Everyone saw that. But still, he kept her—maybe because he didn’t know what else to do with a girl so good, so sweet, so loyal it hurt to look at her.

And me? I watched her break, silently, piece by piece. I saw her eyes flicker to Michael when he looked at Rika. I saw the way she swallowed her pain and stayed anyway, hoping she’d be enough.

And I said nothing.

I wanted to. Fuck, I ached to. I wanted to drag her away, tear her off his arm, lock her in a room and make her look at me. Make her see me. The way I saw her. The way I always had.

But I didn’t. Because back then, I was chaos barely restrained. Poison wrapped in silk. And she was everything I could ruin with one touch.

She was Kai’s father’s secret—his dirty little truth. Half of the world didn’t even know she existed. But we did. We knew. Will called her “lightning in a bottle.” To me, she was wildfire. Beautiful. Destructive. Uncontainable.

Until one day she was just… gone.

No goodbye. No answers. No trace.

They said she went overseas. Something about ballet. Something about family. But no one really knew. And I didn’t ask. I couldn’t.

Because if I found out, I wouldn’t stop until I brought her back.

And back then, I wasn’t ready for what that would mean

————present day———

She wasn’t the same. And maybe that was the problem. Because I liked the new her too much.

The first time I saw her again, she was on a stage.

Low lights. Heavy bass. The kind of place that smelled like smoke and sweat. Not where you’d expect to find someone who used to cry into Will’s hoodie when the world was too loud.

But there she was.

Not sweet. Not soft. Hard lines, fierce eyes, and a body that moved like a weapon—lethal and graceful, begging you to get too close just so she could cut you down.

I didn’t even recognize her at first. Not until she looked straight at me from across the room.

And smiled. That same crooked, defiant little smirk she used to give when we were kids and she caught me watching her.

Only this time, it wasn’t innocent. It was a dare.

She came off stage, sweat-slick and electric, brushing past me like I was a stranger. But I caught her wrist.

“Where the hell have you been?” I growled.

She looked down at my hand, then back at me—no fear in those eyes. Just fire.

“Out of reach,” she said, yanking free. “You liked me better that way, remember?”

No hug. No hello. Just a punch to the gut wrapped in a fucking smirk.

I wanted to grab her again. Pin her to the wall. Force her to stop looking at me like I was just another guy in the crowd.

Because I wasn’t.

I remembered every damn thing about her. The way she used to hum when she braided Will’s hair. How she flinched when Michael touched Rika. How she stood between me and Kai when we fought like animals.

She wasn’t mine back then. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to belong to anyone else now.

Not when she’d become everything I’d ever wanted— And everything I could no longer control