Damon’s POV:

I stood at the door, hands shoved deep into my suit pockets, my gaze fixed on Chloe. She looked slightly disheveled from sleep, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and surprise. The hallway was silent, save for the hum of the elevator in the distance.

Chloe hesitated for a moment, then instinctively opened the door wider. It was a silent invitation, though she still looked wary. My gaze darkened as I looked at her—this woman had a way of looking both fragile and incredibly stubborn at the same time.

Nate, sensing the heavy silence, stepped forward with the bags of lunch. "Miss Chloe, we brought..."

I didn't let him finish. I stepped into the apartment, my presence filling the small foyer. As Chloe backed away, startled by my sudden movement, I reached out. Instead of the aggressive grip of the past, I caught her wrist gently but firmly, guiding her away from the closing door. I pulled her toward me, her forehead resting against my lapel for a brief second—a momentary anchor in the chaos of our history.

The door clicked shut, leaving us in the sudden quiet of her home. Chloe froze, her initial instinct to retreat fading into a tense, expectant silence. She looked like a frightened bird, unsure whether to fly or stay. I looked down at her, seeing only the top of her head, the natural scent of her hair more calming than any expensive perfume.

My icy resolve softened. She felt small in my presence, too thin for my liking. I let her go as she slowly moved back to create some distance between us. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her usual composure replaced by a visible flutter of nerves.

"...What are you doing here?" she finally asked, her voice steadying.

"I'm here for lunch," I replied, my tone as low and indifferent as ever, though my pulse told a different story.

"I thought you said you were busy."

"I am busy," I said, meeting her eyes. "But I’m here nonetheless."

I continued to watch her. Even in a simple house dress, she carried an elegance that was impossible to ignore. She had no idea how much her presence affected the air around her, or how much effort it took for me to maintain this professional distance.

"Nate brought the food," I added, gesturing to the bags. "We should eat before it gets cold."

I knew my presence was a disruption to her quiet day, but as I watched her move toward the kitchen, I knew I wouldn't have spent my afternoon anywhere else.