Chapter 18 – Glass Walls
Chapter 18 – Glass Walls
[Aurora]
The night sky pressed heavily against the glass dome of the Solara Gala Hall, wrapping the evening in a surreal velvet hush. Inside, the place shimmered. Golden chandeliers rained soft light over a crowd that sparkled in designer silks and sharp tuxedos. Yet, Aurora barely noticed. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her champagne flute, heart tapping an erratic rhythm beneath the silver-beaded gown Luca had helped her choose.
She could feel Damon’s gaze before she even saw him. But she didn’t look his way. Not tonight.
“You look like you’re trying to turn invisible,” Luca murmured, stepping closer.
Aurora smiled, grateful for his warmth. “Trying? Or succeeding?”
Luca chuckled, the sound rich and soft. “You’d fail miserably. There’s not a soul in this room that could miss you.”
She turned toward him. His tailored navy-blue suit, the subtle scent of his cologne, the steadiness in his eyes—it all grounded her. And for the first time in weeks, she leaned into that steadiness.
“Dance with me?” he asked, offering his hand.
Aurora glanced toward Damon across the room. Celeste stood beside him, impossibly elegant in emerald green, her hand lightly brushing Damon’s arm as she spoke. Damon didn’t pull away.
Aurora’s chest tightened. She took Luca’s hand.
The music swelled, and Luca led her to the dance floor. As his hand settled gently on her waist, Aurora let herself breathe—just a little. The rhythm swayed around them, pulling her along. Luca danced with practiced ease, but it wasn’t his skill that comforted her. It was the way he looked at her, not as someone broken or fragile, but like she was someone worth waiting for.
“You’re thinking about him,” Luca said quietly, not accusing.
Aurora bit her lip. “I’m trying not to.”
“You don’t have to try with me,” he said, spinning her smoothly. “You don’t need to pretend.”
“I wish I could hate him,” she whispered, “but all I seem to feel is… confusion.”
“And love,” Luca added, his voice gentle.
Aurora didn’t answer.
But he smiled anyway. “Don’t worry, Aurora. I’m not here to compete. I’m here to catch you when you fall—no matter which direction you go.”
Her throat tightened. “That’s a dangerous promise.”
Luca leaned close, his lips brushing her temple. “Then let it be my mistake to make.”
[Damon]
Across the room, Damon’s jaw was set hard enough to crack. He watched Luca pull Aurora into his arms, spinning her with that stupid perfect smile. Damon’s fists clenched around his drink.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” Celeste said beside him, voice low.
He shot her a glare. “Who says I’m jealous?”
Celeste sipped her drink. “Your eyes. And the fact that you’ve been staring at them for five minutes without blinking.”
Damon forced his gaze away. “She can do what she wants.”
“She always could,” Celeste said, smiling faintly. “But that didn’t stop you from wanting her to want you.”
Damon ran a hand down his face. “Why are we even here, Celeste?”
“Because this is the first public appearance we’ve made since the trial, and your PR team insisted it would ‘rebuild goodwill.’” She smirked. “Also, I have a thing for diamond-studded ceilings.”
Damon gave a dry laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Celeste leaned against the wall beside him. “You know, Damon, I didn’t agree to date a ghost.”
“I’m not a ghost.”
“No?” She tilted her head. “Then where are you? Because when you look at me, all I see is her. When I kiss you—”
He turned sharply. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Why not?” she said, eyes flashing. “You don’t love me, Damon. You barely even see me.”
“I’m trying,” he said through gritted teeth.
Celeste exhaled. “Trying isn’t the same as wanting.”
Silence stretched between them.
“I thought if I could just get close enough,” Celeste said, more softly now, “I could make you forget her. But the closer I get, the more I see you trying to forget yourself.”
Damon didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His chest burned with the ache of truths he’d buried too deep. Every time Aurora smiled at Luca, it was a dagger to his ribs. Yet, it wasn’t because he’d lost her—it was because he’d pushed her away with his own hands.
Celeste reached out, brushing a finger along his jaw. “Do you dream of her, Damon?”
His silence was the only answer she needed.
“I thought so,” she whispered. “And I think she dreams of you, too.”
[Aurora – Later That Night]
Aurora lay tangled in silk sheets, the echo of music still humming in her bones. The warmth of Luca’s touch lingered on her skin—but so did something else. Something colder. More familiar.
She closed her eyes, sleep pulling her under fast.
The dream came suddenly.
She was back at the rooftop of the hotel in Madrid—the place where she and Damon had once argued until it turned into something else entirely. The night wind had been sharp, the city lights below flickering like stars fallen to earth. In the dream, Damon stood behind her, his voice soft but roughened with desire.
“I should hate you,” he said.
“Then do it,” Aurora whispered.
He spun her around, crashing his mouth onto hers.
Aurora gasped in her sleep.
In the dream, his hands slid down her spine, mouth trailing heat along her neck. “I can’t,” he breathed. “I tried.”
She arched against him, lips parted, a fire igniting inside her. But just as quickly, the dream shifted—Damon pulling away, pain in his eyes.
“You chose him,” he said, voice breaking.
“No,” she pleaded. “You pushed me away!”
He vanished into smoke.
Aurora jolted awake, panting. The sheets were twisted, her skin damp with sweat. And her heart—her traitorous, aching heart—beat only one name.
Damon.
[Damon – Elsewhere]
Damon sat alone on the balcony of his penthouse suite, nursing a glass of bourbon he’d barely touched. The city was quiet at this hour, the kind of silence that pressed in too tightly.
He hadn’t been able to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, she was there.
In his dream, she’d stood under a rain-drenched archway, her hair soaked, eyes burning. “You’re a coward,” she said.
He kissed her anyway. Hard. Desperate.
And she kissed him back.
But the moment their lips parted, her image began to fade.
He reached for her in his sleep, murmuring her name—but woke only to cold air and empty sheets.
[Celeste]
Celeste watched him from the doorway. She had come to check on him, to maybe talk things through. But watching Damon chase a ghost in his dreams was enough.
She turned away quietly, not bothering to wake him.
Whatever chance she thought she had… was already gone.
[Luca]
Across town, Luca scrolled through his messages, pausing over a photo of him and Aurora from earlier. Her smile had been real. He was sure of it.
Still, something in her eyes lingered—something he couldn’t quite reach.
He deleted the photo.
And made a silent promise.
If Damon Blackwell ever hurt her again… Luca would make sure it was the last time.