name made me think of that old movie, The Omen—his parents had chosen it well. Damien might as well be the Devil’s son. His family’s hunger for power was never sated.
At first, I’d believed that what we had together could become special. Even after he began ghosting me, I’d refused to let go of the illusion I had of him—the man I’d secretly fallen for as a teenager from afar while reading stories of him in GQ.
I’d turned twenty in August, and that birthday had become a milestone occasion—the beginning of the countdown to my loss of freedom.
“Where were you going?” Damien’s tone was almost kind.
“Getting some fresh air.”
“Right.” He stepped closer until he towered over me. “How am I meant to protect you if you run off like that?”
Even now his nearness sent a thrill through me. “Sorry.”
His eyes darkened. “I have a reputation to live up to. If I appear to have no control over you, others will take advantage.”
“No one noticed.”
“Oh, they noticed.”
“I’ll go back to the party.”
“Yes, you will. You’ll smile at everyone’s conversations, laugh at their jokes. You’ll hang on my arm and be the pretty young thing you are meant to be while you entertain our guests. You will make my father—” He gritted his teeth. “Look good.”
I hated all of these self-entitled assholes.
I glanced at the clock.
“Are you even listening, Pandora?”
“At least let me visit the restroom.” My tone sounded calmer than I expected.
His eyes narrowed and his gaze fell on my lips. “Of course, darling. I’ll escort you.”
“Thank you.” I was starved for any sign of kindness from him, no matter how fleeting.
He weaved his fingers through mine and led me out of the room and along the sprawling hallway, his palm hot against mine, possessively controlling our pace.
“I’ll make you proud,” I said softly, trying to appease him. “I promise.”
“You have a lot to make up for.”
I shouldn’t have been shocked when he preceded me into the bathroom, intending not to give me any privacy. He locked the door behind us and then leaned against the sink, his dark eyes following my every move.
Damien dragged his teeth along his bottom lip. “Hurry up.”
My nostrils flared with annoyance at being rushed, but I turned and lifted my hem, pulling down my panties to sit on the toilet. “I can’t go with you watching.”
He stepped closer until he was looming over me. “I think you should get used to this.”
I avoided his stare.
“You’re my trophy, Pandora.”
I didn’t want to believe the elite private finishing school I’d attended had been all about preparing me to be his wife and nothing more. But our relationship had come about so two American families could forge a powerful alliance through marriage, hijacking all the power in Washington through this allegiance.
Mine and his.
I had flown into this gilded cage. At first, I’d entered willingly because I didn’t know this man. The papers painted Damien Godman as a modern-day hero. A man who fought for social justice. A senator’s son who was willing to dedicate his time to those trapped in poverty, to see them lifted out of it.
They didn’t know him like I did.
“Damien, please step back.”
He rested his palm on my head as though anointing me. “Do you want me to run the tap for you? Help you pee?”
I shivered at his touch, squeezing my eyes shut.
I finally managed to relax enough to empty my bladder.
After wiping myself, I stood quickly and flushed the toilet. I had to push past him to him to get to the sink.
Damien followed me. “You belong to me now. Let me protect you.”
There was no arguing with him. Not when he was in this kind of mood.
Washing my hands under the warm water, I rallied my courage. All I had to do was smile and play nice. Feign innocence. After tonight, when Damien and I were alone, we could talk and I would remind him that I deserved to be treated with respect. After all, I was a Bardot…American royalty.
I dried my hands on a cotton napkin and turned to face him. “We should get back before your father notices.”
“He noticed.”
I shot him a fearful look.
No one crossed his father more than once.
“Please, explain to the Senator I needed some air.”
“You want me to lie to him?” Damien frowned.
“Protect me.” I straightened my back. “As a husband should.”
“We’re not married…yet.”
I raised my chin defiantly, trying to hide the fact that he scared me.
His fingertips trailed along my forearm. The gesture seemed