Chapter 4

The next afternoon, I arrived at Elysium Club as planned. The tremendous success of last night's fragrance showcase still felt somewhat surreal to me.

Dressed in the lavender dress Declan had chosen for me, I walked into the main hall with light steps. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows cast a brilliant glow across the marble floor.

"Violet! Last night's performance was absolutely stunning!"

"I can't wait to receive that 'Rebirth' fragrance!"

As I walked, people greeted me with genuine admiration in their eyes. This feeling was wonderful. I could sense that the way people looked at me had completely changed—no longer with pity and sympathy, but with appreciation and respect.

I was about to head directly to the fragrance studio to find Declan when a familiar voice called out to me.

"Violet."

I instinctively tensed, then slowly turned around. It was him.

Damian stood not far away, holding a glass of whiskey, his deep eyes fixed directly on me. Once, such attention would have made my heart race and my face flush.

But now I only felt disgust.

"Damian." I responded in the most polite yet distant tone, as if addressing any ordinary club member.

I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, which filled me with vindictive satisfaction. Good, let you taste what it's like to be treated coldly.

"We need to talk, about what happened that day..." His voice sounded somewhat urgent, lacking his usual composed demeanor.

I couldn't help but curl my lips into a mocking smile: "That day? Which day? You mean the day you treated me like a prostitute?"

I spoke each word lightly, yet watched his face turn ashen.

So even the high-and-mighty Damian could have such expressions. So he could also be hurt by my words.

"You..." He stared into my eyes as if searching for something. "You've changed."

"Yes, I've learned my worth." I adjusted my purse, savoring this sense of control. "Now please step aside, I'm going to see Declan."

I moved to walk past him, but he reached out to block my path. In that instant, I caught his familiar cedar scent, the fragrance that once intoxicated me.

But now, it only reminded me of that humiliating night.

"Wait, I..."

"You what?" I stopped and looked directly into his eyes. I saw panic, unease, and vulnerability he was trying to conceal. "Are you going to apologize? Or remind me again how cheap and replaceable I am?"

He opened his mouth but couldn't say anything.

Watching this man who once made me look up to him in such a pitiful state, I felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction. Is this what revenge feels like? So exhilarating.

"I never..."

"You never what? Never trampled on my dignity? Never humiliated me in front of everyone? Never treated me as a one-night plaything?" My voice was surprisingly calm even to myself, but every word came from the depths of my heart.

His expression completely crumbled.

"Well, if there's nothing else, please step aside." I walked around him toward the fragrance studio, feeling his burning gaze on my back.

I knew he was watching me, I knew he was suffering. And I didn't care anymore.

Back in the fragrance studio, the warm fragrant air immediately enveloped me. This was my sanctuary, the safe haven Declan had created for me.

"Baby, you're back?" Declan's voice was gentle as he walked up behind me, his hands softly caressing my shoulders.

"Mm, I just ran into some unpleasant people." I leaned into his embrace, enjoying this feeling of being cherished.

"You were breathtakingly beautiful on stage last night." He whispered in my ear.

I turned to look at him, warmth flooding my heart: "It's all because you believed in me..."

He lowered his head and kissed my lips gently. In that moment, I felt completely safe and loved. This was entirely different from how Damian made me feel—not possession, not conquest, but treasure and protection.

Just as we were kissing passionately, his phone rang.

"Sorry, baby, I need to take an important call." He kissed my forehead softly. "I'll be right back."

I nodded, continuing to focus on my fragrance work. Through the crack in the door, I vaguely sensed someone lurking outside.

A few minutes later, I heard urgent footsteps at the door. I thought Declan had returned, but when I looked up, I saw an enraged Damian.

"You threw yourself into his arms so quickly? It's been less than a week since I rejected you!" His voice was hoarse, his eyes burning with fury I'd never seen before.

"What gives you the right to question me? Didn't you say I was cheap and replaceable?" I raised my chin, meeting his gaze defiantly.

He strode toward me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. My lower back hit the edge of the lab table hard.

"Let me go!" I tried to break free, but he was too strong.

"You think he really loves you? He just wants to prove he can get what I didn't want!" He trapped me completely between the lab table and his body, hands braced on either side of me. "And you... damn it, you should be mine!"

"Yours? When did I become your property?" I sneered, pushing against his chest, but he didn't budge.

"You ARE mine! From the moment you first created a fragrance for me three years ago!" His voice was low and dangerous. One hand suddenly gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "From the first moment you looked at me! I won't allow you to belong to anyone else!"

"Damian, you're insane!"

The words had barely left my lips when he suddenly leaned down and captured mine.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, but one filled with anger and possessive desire. His kiss was heavy, urgent, as if he wanted to devour me completely. I struggled desperately, pounding my fists against his chest, but he only held me tighter.

"Mmph... let go... mmph!" My protests were muffled against his lips.

He kissed me deeply, with an almost frenzied longing. In that moment, my mind went blank, my body involuntarily responding to his kiss.

This was the embrace I had dreamed of for three years, yet now it filled me with anger and humiliation. I hated him, but my body's response betrayed my rational mind.

When he finally released me, we were both breathing heavily.

"You see," his thumb traced over my swollen lips, his voice hoarse, "your body still remembers me."

"You bastard!" I raised my hand to slap him, but he caught my wrist instantly.

"I am a bastard, but you belong to me!" His eyes burned with dangerous light. "No matter who you're with now, you'll never forget me!"

"What a magnificent performance, brother."

Declan's voice came from the doorway, cold enough to send chills down one's spine.

Damian spun around abruptly, and I took the chance to push him away, straightening my disheveled clothes. My lips still stung, and my heartbeat hadn't settled.

"It seems you still prefer using force." Declan slowly entered the room, his eyes filled with fury. "But she's my woman now."

"She'll always be mine!" Damian showed no remorse, only growing more enraged. "You think a few days can change three years of feelings? Dream on!"

"Feelings?" I finally found my voice. "What feelings? You mean the kind where you used me as a tool?"

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, my eyes burning with anger: "You think forcing a kiss on me proves anything? It only proves you're a bastard who doesn't respect women!"

Declan came to my side, gently examining my lips: "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine." But my voice was still trembling.

"Very good, brother." Declan turned to Damian, his gaze terrifyingly cold. "Now you know what crossing the line means."

"Crossing the line? She was mine to begin with!"

"No, she's mine!" Declan pulled me into his arms. "And from now on, if you dare touch her again..."

The tension in the air grew thicker, the two brothers locked in a standoff.

Just then, I noticed that the studio door wasn't completely closed, and I could faintly hear footsteps in the hallway—people passing by, people who might have heard our argument.

My heart raced, not from fear, but from an unprecedented complex emotion.

The vanity of being fought over by two men satisfied me, but at the same time, a terrifying thought began to take root in my mind:

To them, was I a woman, or just a pawn in their brotherly games?

"Enough." I suddenly spoke, my voice calmer than I had expected. "If you're really going to fight over something, then I set the rules."

Both brothers turned to look at me, surprise flashing in their eyes.

"I'm not an object you can dispose of at will." I looked directly at them. "If you want me, you must prove that you truly love me, not that you're just competing with each other."

With those words, I pushed past both men and walked straight out of the fragrance studio.

The silence that followed was more suffocating than their earlier argument.