Chapter 62 - The Madness of the Nightclub

Sophie's reassurance brought only a temporary glimmer of comfort to me, and did not ease my sadness.
I know what I need right now, I need Damon, I need to detoxify all my grief by releasing my desire to forget about all this pain for a while.
After dropping Sophie off, I freshened up in my room and changed into my sexiest outfit.
I saw the mask sitting on the table, hesitated for a moment, and finally took it in my hand.
Damon's room wasn't far from me, just three or four minutes away.
I hesitated when I reached the door to Damon's room.
I suddenly remembered the scene I saw at the mall today, maybe I shouldn't have come to Damon.
"If you ask me, it would be better for Miss Morgan to be with Master Damon, and Missy would be a better match for Master William."
"Young Master Damon is the head of the family, and our lord's position is not to be associated."
While I was hesitating, the chatter of a few maids came in.
I hastily hid in the shadows around the corner of the corridor, not to be spotted by a couple of maids.
Hearing a few individuals chatting, my hands clenched and my chest heaving, I tried to control my hands from shaking, but it didn't help.
After the maids walked away, I couldn't contain this thought of wanting to see Damon any longer.
I put on my oft-used mask and prepared to knock on the door, only to find the door to Damon's room hidden.
There was a rustling in the middle of the room as well, by now I had lost all sense of reason, my mind had only one thought, the eagerness to see Damon and have a soul and body meld with me, no, I needed to fight him until dawn.
However that all broke down when I entered the room.
The room was very cluttered with furniture, and I didn't see Damon in the middle of the small living room as I carefully entered the bedroom.
My eyes widened and I pinched my thigh with one hand, the pain telling me I wasn't dreaming, and I covered my mouth with my other hand, not making a sound.
Damon was lying on the bed, his fiery red hair hiding half of his face, and I couldn't see if his eyes were open.
And Morgan, who had fallen to her knees beside the bed, her eyes now closed, reached out her head and slowly lowered it, the kiss falling on Damon's thin lips.
And there was no reaction from Damon on the bed, no intention of pushing Morgan away.
I just stood there in the doorway, watching Morgan's hand prepare to reach into Damon's shirt, and finally unable to resist, I turned and fled the room.
By the time I regained my senses, I was sitting in Tom's nightclub, with a number of empty bottles already on the card table in front of me.
On stage, my colleagues were hard at work, and there were hardly any women on stage except me.
I wore a mask that I normally only use at work, and I had quite a few people wanting to invite me to perform for them.
But they were all stopped by the security guard standing by the card table, and I gave the guard a grateful look.
Obviously, this was arranged by Tom, and I was very glad I had a friend like Tom, otherwise, I really couldn't believe what would have happened if I had lost my mind.
I looked at the people dancing wildly on the dance floor and for a moment understood their crazy antics, which may have been another form of catharsis.
I twisted and turned, wanting to get in on the dance floor too, to feel another kind of madness.
I was just standing up when a hand held me down.
Looking up I saw an exasperated Tom coming towards my card table and I was a little embarrassed to turn my head the other way and pretend I didn't see him, ready to slip away.
Tom didn't even give me a chance to escape, reaching straight for my clothes and carrying them all the way to the private dance room.
This private dance room was the one where Damon and I first met, and I struggled to escape from Tom's grip, but Tom wouldn't give me that chance.
With a kick to the door, I was thrown into the dance room.
I closed my eyes and prepared for a close encounter with the earth.
Instead of the expected pain, I was surrounded by a warm embrace, and the owner of this embrace caught me with a muffled grunt, presumably from the impact I had made.
The voice is very familiar, very similar to Damon's, but Damon should be in the middle of the room with Morgan ......
I peeked my eyes open, wanting to make sure I was thinking the right thing or not.
"Am I scary?" A familiar voice came from overhead, the magnetic voice of Damon.
My eyes snapped open and the first thing I saw when I looked up was Damon's fiery red hair, followed by his turquoise eyes.
I flinched in place for three seconds, pushing Damon away in a hurry and standing across from him, biting my lower lip tightly, my insides struggling with a lot of joy mixed with a lot of sadness.
"What's the matter little fox, don't you recognize me?" Damon saw my reaction, confusion written all over his expression.
He couldn't understand why I had become so rusty with him overnight.
Damon reached out and tried to pull me, and I took a few more steps back in quick succession, my hand touching the doorknob, ready to open the door and escape.
"What's wrong with you?" Damon grabbed my hand, stopping me behind the door.
He looked down at me with confusion, disbelief, and even a hint of hurt in his eyes.
I looked away and refused to look at him, and Damon squeezed my chin, forcing me to look at him, by now his eyes were blazing with rage.
"You already have Morgan, don't keep messing with me, and since you won't keep our agreement, I don't see the need for us to continue seeing each other."
I looked into Damon's eyes, holding back the tears that were welling up in my eyes, and said with a little tremor in my voice.
Damon said with a puzzled look on his face, "Morgan and I are no longer related, Fox, so why are you still angry about this?"
I looked at his bewildered face and remembered the image of Morgan kissing him with a pang of pain inside.
They're so close, does he still want to hide it from me?
The tears were no longer in control and fell in large globs onto Damon's hands.
Damon looked at me in panic, wiping my tears with his hands, but they grew, and his eyes took on an obvious look of anxiety.
"Something's wrong, little fox, tell me." Damon's kiss landed on my cheek, and he gently licked away my tears, his voice extra gentle, afraid of accidentally hurting me again.
"I'm here, who's bullying you, tell me."
Unlike William's reassurance, Damon's tone was more than a little domineering and forceful , making me have unconscious thoughts of wanting to rely on.