Damian didn't wait for Lucian's response before twisting his arm further, another sickening crack echoing in the air.
Crescentia gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she stared at the scene, horror widening her eyes. Lucian let out a strangled cry, his face contorted in agony.
Damian and Lucian were nearly the same height, but Damian had a clear advantage—not just in size but in sheer strength. Even kneeling, Lucian was struggling, and it was obvious he hated how powerless he was in front of the growing audience.
"The fuck! That hurts," Lucian hissed through clenched teeth, attempting to break free. But Damian's grip was relentless, his fingers digging into Lucian's wrist like iron shackles.
A few guests who had been on their way out stopped, their eyes darting toward the commotion, murmuring amongst themselves.
"It should," Damian said through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous. "Because you just tried to hit my woman."
Lucian's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. He knew better than to dig his own grave.
Damian had been preoccupied with Magnus at the far end of the funeral, discussing a potential partnership that he couldn't care less about. But his attention had never wavered from Crescentia. The moment he saw Lucian approach her, he had a bad feeling. The second he saw Lucian's hand rise, ready to strike her, something inside him snapped.
Now, that same rage still coursed through his veins.
Lucian let out a strangled gasp when Damian twisted his arm even further. This time, an audible yelp escaped him, and a few tears spilled from his lashes.
"You're going to break his hand," Crescentia tried to interject, her voice shaky, but one sharp glance from Damian silenced her.
"Mr. Lorenzo," Magnus called out, stepping forward, his usually composed face betraying a flicker of panic. "Please, I assure you that what Lucian did won't happen again."
Magnus' eyes darted to Lucian, whose face was pale with pain. The last thing he needed was a public scandal at a funeral he had personally arranged to maintain appearances. He had invited influential figures—people he wanted as allies, not enemies. He needed Damian's partnership, not a fight between two grown men tarnishing the event.
Damian ignored him, his focus solely on Lucian. Only when he was certain Lucian's hand had gone completely numb did he finally release him.
Lucian collapsed forward, his body hitting the ground face-first with a dull thud.
Juliette gasped loudly and rushed toward him, her heels clicking against the pavement as she knelt beside him. She shot Crescentia a venomous glare as if all of this was somehow her fault.
Damian didn't even spare Juliette a glance. He crouched beside Lucian, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"I'll say this once," he warned. "Stay the fuck away from my woman. If I see you within three feet of her again, you won't have hands left to feed yourself."
The weight of his threat settled in the air, thick and suffocating. Even Magnus visibly tensed, swallowing hard.
Damian stood, turned to Crescentia, and without another word, took her wrist—this time, gently—and pulled her away.
They walked off like nothing had happened, leaving behind stunned guests and a groaning Lucian.
Once they reached his car, Damian opened the door for her like a gentleman, helping her inside. Then, without giving Magnus or his wife a chance to intercept them, he slid into the driver's seat and sped off.
The silence in the car was suffocating.
Crescentia stared out the window, unsure of what to say. Her wrist still throbbed where Lucian had gripped her, but the lingering heat of Damian's touch somehow overpowered the pain.
She finally broke the silence. "Where are you taking me?"
"To your friend's house," he answered simply.
Crescentia nodded, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly. She had been staying at Clara's house since that night with Damian, too emotionally drained to look for her own place. With the money he had given her, she could easily afford a decent apartment, somewhere safe where Noella could recuperate. But Clara had insisted she stay longer, offering to split the bills with her.
Crescentia didn't have the strength to argue.
Damian's fingers tapped against the steering wheel before he suddenly asked, "Was that your boyfriend?"
Crescentia blinked, turning to look at him. He wasn't even glancing her way, his gaze locked on the road ahead.
"My ex-boyfriend," she corrected.
"Why was he bothering you?"
She hesitated, frowning slightly. "Why do you care?"
Damian's grip on the wheel tightened. "Answer the question."
Crescentia sighed. "He cheated on me with my cousin," she admitted. "After you claimed I was your girlfriend, it set him off." She combed her fingers through her dark hair but winced as a sharp pain shot through her wrist. She cursed under her breath. "You weren't supposed to tell anyone about our fake relationship, especially since it already ended."
Damian glanced at her wrist, his expression hardening. The bruises were faint, but visible. If he could go back and beat Lucian within an inch of his life, he would. But for now, Lucian's fractured bone would have to do.
He leaned back against the seat. "Why? Do you want us to keep fake dating?"
Crescentia's head snapped toward him, her brows furrowing. "What?"
He was still looking at the road. "My grandmother's birthday is coming up," he explained. "Since you two didn't get a chance to talk properly last time, she wants to see you again. I want to offer you a real fake dating contract."
Crescentia blinked. "A real fake dating contract?"
"You'll be my girlfriend for a set period, and I'll pay you." His voice was casual, like he was discussing a business deal rather than offering to buy more of her time.
Crescentia opened her mouth, then closed it. This was the last time they were supposed to meet. Yet here he was, finding another excuse for them to see each other every day.
She thought about it. She already had good money saved up from what he had given her. Noella was out of danger. Once she finished college—if she ever found the strength to return—she could live comfortably enough.
"I don't want to be your fake girlfriend for a long time," she finally said. "Just for one more day—your grandmother's birthday. After that, you can make up some story about why we broke up, pay me, and I'll disappear from your life forever."
Damian's fingers curled against the wheel.
'She wanted to disappear?'
For some reason, the thought left him unsettled more than he cared to admit.