Chapter 83- Champagne and Cherry Blossoms

The rooftop shimmered like something out of a dream.

At its center stood a majestic cherry blossom tree, its petals gently rustled by the wind. Twinkling lights, carefully wound around every delicate branch, glowed like stars suspended just out of reach. Small, elegant tables with cushioned chairs were scattered across the rooftop, framing the space like a carefully set stage. To the far left, nestled against the brick barrier that edged the roof, a small platform held a live band. Soft jazz filtered through the night, melodic and easy, giving the air a kind of hushed reverence.

A young woman approached us, menus clutched to her chest. She bowed low before speaking, her voice warm but formal.

“Mr. and Mrs. Losten, welcome. Your table is ready—please, follow me.”

It struck me then—the way she looked at us. It wasn’t just politeness. It was reverence. Respect. The kind people gave Damon, but tonight… it was extended to me too.

I blinked as the breeze played with my hair, brushing it behind my ear with a nervous hand. Damon gently touched the small of my back, nudging me forward. I could sense his pride radiating off him like heat.

“She’s human,” I whispered under my breath as I moved ahead of him, casting a quick glance over my shoulder.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Most of the staff here are. They volunteered after the Accord.”

As we walked, I felt dozens of eyes watching us. Conversations dwindled, murmurs replaced by silence.

“Why is everyone staring?” I whispered, my heart pounding a little faster.

“Because they’ve never seen you before,” he said, close to my ear. His fingers pressed gently into my waist. “You’re the one who saved them.”

“Me?” I nearly stumbled. “They’re looking at me?”

“They are,” he confirmed with a smile in his voice. “You’re more than a mystery to them—you’re hope.”

We reached the far end of the rooftop, where a set of white stone steps led to an elevated booth. It was far larger and more ornate than the other tables. Vines of tiny white flowers wrapped around the posts and railings, and the soft overhead glow from the sculpture above gave everything a halo of golden warmth.

“It’s beautiful…” I whispered, unable to say anything else.

Damon took my hand and led me up the steps. We slid into the cushioned booth and the waitress leaned in, her voice lower now.

“Would you like to begin with something to drink?”

“Champagne,” Damon answered without hesitation. “Your best bottle.”

He didn’t even glance at the menu. Nor did he ask for mine. Instead, he waved it off with a gesture and said coolly, “One of everything. But double the steak.”

My eyes widened. “That’s… a lot of food.”

He shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

Within minutes, the table began to transform. A towering seafood platter appeared, gleaming with oysters, shrimp, and lobster. Bowls of delicate appetizers, garden-fresh salads, roasted meats, creamy pastas, and perfectly seared steaks followed. Every time I thought it was over, another dish arrived.

I tasted a little of everything, savoring the flavors as best I could. But Damon? He devoured each plate with feral grace, never missing a beat, his appetite voracious but elegant.

I leaned back after dabbing my mouth with a napkin and took a sip of the bubbly, the sweetness tickling my tongue.

“You’re staring,” I said playfully, feeling the pleasant fog of the alcohol setting in.

“I can’t help it,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “You’re impossible not to look at.”

I giggled, warmth creeping up my cheeks. “You know, I could get used to this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. This treatment? Being spoiled? I might demand it every weekend.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping a pitch. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”

I stood up, swaying a little. “I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t stare at my ass.”

His laughter followed me, mixing with the evening breeze. I walked past curious gazes and soft whispers:

“She’s the one…”

“The girl who saved the us…”

"The doll that changed him."

“She’s even more beautiful in person.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I hadn’t felt this light, this… adored, in a long time.

In the bathroom, I leaned over the sink, staring at my reflection. My eyes were bright, glowing even. My cheeks were flushed. I looked… alive. Truly alive. I wondered if I was finally becoming the woman I was always meant to be.

I thought of Malios. How soft his voice had been. How sincere his eyes were when he called me beautiful. I blinked hard, hating myself a little for thinking of him tonight, of all nights.

A knock startled me from my thoughts.

“I’m in here—” I called.

The door slammed open. Damon stood there.

“What are you—”

He didn’t answer. He just locked the door behind him and closed the distance between us. His hands grabbed me, his mouth finding mine with a kind of desperation I hadn’t felt in him before. He kissed me like the world was ending.

“Someone might—” I started, muffled by his lips.

But then his hands slid up my thighs, parting the slit in my dress. He gripped my ass and pulled me into him. I gasped at the sensation of his arousal pressing against me, and I melted. My hands fumbled at his belt, unzipping his pants as I kissed him back with equal hunger.

His grip tightened on my throat, his tongue claiming mine, and my dress ripped as he spread my legs. I didn’t care. I guided him to me, my body aching for his, and he entered me in one rough, perfect thrust.

I moaned against his shoulder, my voice swallowed by the jazz and the murmurs outside. Even as the knocks began—once, twice, three times—we didn’t stop. Damon moved harder, faster, slamming into me so fiercely I feared the mirror would crack behind us.

But I didn’t care. I wanted to shatter. I wanted to break with him.

My orgasm came fast, devastating in its intensity, drawn out by the chaos—the knocking, the music, the alcohol, and Damon. Always Damon.

We stayed like that for a long second after, pressed against each other, hearts racing.

And still, he didn’t say a word.

He didn’t need to.