Save Me - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Damien
When I first laid my eyes on her, it felt as though I had been struck by fucking lightning.
She stood across the ballroom, glowing with an energy so pure and captivating it felt almost otherworldly. I was surrounded by plenty of women adorned in the finest silks and enough jewelry to buy a small country, and though she was wearing a plain blue gown with no visible jewelry, she still shone the brightest.
No, it had nothing to do with what she was wearing, the glow seemed radiate from within her. Drawing me in like a moth to a flame.
From the shadows, I blatantly stared at her, taking in her features. Nothing about them was particularly remarkable; She was petite, no taller than five two. Her hair, pulled back tightly, was a plain brown, and unlike the women flaunting their generous cleavage, hers was modest, almost boyish. By all accounts, she was far from my usual type. And yet, at that moment, as I studied her, I felt more attraction than I had ever experienced in my life.
As I continued to observe her, I noted that she looked uncomfortable, like this was not her usual scene. Which may have been the case because her face did not register in my head and I definitely would have remembered her. Though, to be fair, I did not often attend these tedious displays of wealth disguised as social events. I was only at this one as a favor to a client whose hotel was opening tonight. He had purchased security systems and appliances from Black Enterprises for this project, and it was good form to show up-especially since more deals were on the horizon.
But now, after seeing her, coming here felt like fate. I had to meet her. I had to have her.
Just as I was about to push off the wall and walk toward her, a man appeared by her side, and she offered him a tight, forced smile. White-hot rage coursed through my veins as he took her arm and led her toward a group of socialites.
How dare he touch what was mine? The thought startled me. The raw, primal possessiveness that surged through my body was something I had never felt before. Jealousy was a foreign emotion-I was never one to care if another man touched a woman I had been fucking. But this? This was something entirely different.
I knew the man. Vincent Hathaway. Grandson of a real estate mogul and current CEO of Hathaway & Co. My gaze darkened as I watched him slide his hand around her waist. She fidgeted uncomfortably, clearly not wanting his touch. That sealed Vincent's fate.
I had destroyed many men for far less.
"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you, Damien." Stephanie Rose's voice pierced my thoughts, but I did not shift my focus from Vincent's fucking hand.
"What are you doing lurking in the shadows? There are important people asking about you," she whined, putting emphasis on "important" as if that mattered to me.
"I do not care," I said, voice calm, though my heart continued to race, my entire being screaming at me to tear Vincent Hathaway apart for laying his hands on my angel.
In my dark, murderous thoughts, I barely registered Stephanie's presence until she wrapped her red clawed hand on my bicep. My gaze snapped to her, cold and sharp. She immediately withdrew her hand, fear flashing in her blue eyes. She knew she had crossed a line.
I lived by a set of rules, and every woman who shared my bed knew them well. And the most important rule-no one was allowed to touch me. Ever.
"It seems you have forgotten your place, Miss Rose." My tone was controlled, though the menace in it was unmistakable. She took a step back, understanding the danger that lurked beneath my words. "I suggest you leave immediately. Our arrangement is done."
Her lips trembled, and I internally rolled my eyes. I had seen this reaction a thousand times. They always thought they could change me, manipulate me with their declarations of love.
"Damien, I've fallen in love with you," she whispered. "Please, I'll do whatever you want. I'll never touch you again. I will do anything you want-just don't end this."
The sight of her begging was pathetic, predictable. They always fell in love with the wealth, the power, and the pleasure I gave them. They believed they were special enough to make me break my rules. What they never understood was that there was nothing but darkness where my heart should've been.
"You mean nothing to me," I stated, locking eyes with her. "Now leave."
I turned back, eager to refocus on my angel, but she was gone. My eyes darted around the ballroom, searching, but neither she nor Vincent were anywhere to be found.
Damn Stephanie Rose.
Ignoring the guests who tried to engage me, I searched frantically for her. My insides coiled with a kind of panic I had never known. After twenty minutes of searching, I finally left the hotel.
But as I walked out, I made a vow-I would find her. And when I did, I would never let her slip away again.