Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 120

POV: Damian

The moment our eyes met across the crowded lounge, the world seemed to slow down. The low murmur of conversation, the clinking of ice in glasses, the soft piano music—it all faded into a distant, meaningless hum. There was only her, standing under the soft lights of the entrance, a vision of cool, untouchable power.

This was it. The moment I had engineered. The confrontation I had forced.

My plan snapped into action. My arm tightened around Sylvie's waist, pulling her flush against my side in a gesture of blatant possession. I leaned down, whispering something meaningless in her ear, and was rewarded with her delighted, upturned smile. I let my own lips curve into a relaxed, confident smirk, the very picture of an Alpha completely content with his chosen mate.

I began to walk toward them, a predator closing the distance. Sylvie moved with me, her steps light and triumphant. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room following our progress. This was better than I could have imagined. A public stage for her private humiliation.

"Seraphina," I said, my voice smooth and casual, as if bumping into a long-lost but insignificant acquaintance. I stopped a few feet from her and Killian, letting my gaze drift over her with feigned politeness before pointedly turning to the woman beside me. "What a coincidence. I'd like you to formally meet my partner, Sylvie."

I smiled wider, a calculated, taunting expression. "But of course, you two already know each other, don't you?"

The barb was meant to sting, to remind her of Sylvie's place in our home, in my bed. I waited for the flicker of pain in her eyes, the tightening of her jaw, the barely suppressed tremor of hurt.

I received nothing.

Seraphina's gaze didn't even waver toward Sylvie. She rendered the woman on my arm completely and utterly invisible. Her eyes, devoid of any discernible emotion, remained fixed on my face.

"Blackwood," she said, and the use of my surname was a deliberate, brutal severing of any past intimacy. Her voice was calm, crisp, and utterly professional. "We will see you at the arbitration tomorrow morning. As for anything else, I believe we have nothing to discuss."

Seraphina didn't struggle. She didn't flinch. She simply stood there for a long moment, her gaze dropping to my hand on her wrist, then lifting back to my face.

Slowly, deliberately, she pulled her arm back. Her strength was not aggressive, but it was absolute, and I was forced to let her go.

Her eyes, once full of love and then of hate, now held only a calm, devastating pity. She glanced for a single, dismissive second at Sylvie, who stood frozen in confused humiliation beside me. Then her gaze returned to me, and she delivered her final, quiet judgment.

"Your greatest punishment, Damian," she said, her voice clear and cold, cutting through the silence of the room, "is that you will be forced to live with your own regret. Alone."

She turned, without a backward glance, and walked away. Killian Vance, who had not said a word, simply placed a steadying hand on the small of her back and escorted her toward the elevators, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, exposed, defeated, and utterly, completely alone.