You were in a secret relationship with Damiano, you didn't want to reveal it yet because he was at a stage in his career where even the slightest rumor could turn into a full-blown scandal that would have a negative impact on his development.

And you had been so good at hiding it. The stolen glances. The secret meetings. The late nights spent tangled in each other, behind locked doors.

Until tonight.

The event was huge, industry names everywhere, photographers lurking at every corner, flashes blinding as soon as you even breathed wrong.

And there he was—Damiano, standing under the dazzling lights, looking like a devil in a perfectly tailored black suit.

You couldn't help it. Last night, alone in his hotel room, you'd gotten a little carried away. Maybe more than a little.

The hickeys dotted along his neck and collarbone were evidence enough. Big, blooming, dark marks, unmistakable, even though he'd tried to cover them up with makeup.

You were standing across the room, pretending to talk to someone about absolutely nothing, when you caught him out of the corner of your eye.

Meanwhile, his bandmates started to notice. Victoria raised an eyebrow, not hiding her amusement. "Looks like someone went full vampire mode on you."

In response, Damiano just shrugged, but glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He made eye contact with you for a moment, and you saw him barely holding back a smile.

"Cover it up, idiot," Ethan muttered, throwing him his scarf.

Damiano grabbed the scarf, but instead of obediently covering himself, he hung it loosely over his shoulders. As if on purpose. As if he wanted to show that he regretted absolutely nothing.

Paparazzi were looking at him, taking pictures, whispering among themselves.

You saw his lips twitch. He dared a glance across the room—straight at you. And the bastard winked.

You nearly choked on your drink, quickly turning your head to hide your laughter.

Minutes later, you felt a warm hand slide against the small of your back, hidden just enough from view. His voice brushed your ear, low and teasing.

"Next time," he murmured, "at least admit to your artwork on my body, bella."