Never Letting You Go

Chapter Eleven

Damien

I smiled and posed for the cameras, my eyes on the press in front of me, screaming questions and the loud sounds of the cameras flashing, but my mind was elsewhere.

It was on Mila, who stood in the far corner dressed elegantly in a backless, silk olive green dress with thin straps and a sweetheart neckline. Her hair was up in a messy yet sophisticated bun with tendrils of her bangs falling out, framing that angelic face.

Her lips were a glossy nude with matched heels that wrapped around her ankles in a way I wish my hands were.

She was fucking beautiful, standing there, and all I wanted to do was reel her flush to my side and kiss those pouty lips.

We were at the last event before we both took off for Christmas. It was a Christmas-themed ball-gala-event type hosted by one of the board directors, and even though Mila didn't have to come with me.

I always brought her along. I told her I needed her beside me in case something arose, but I only forced her to come because I wanted her by my side.

I fixed my suit and gave them one more smile before walking inside. Mila saw my movement and hurried along, her heels tapping the concrete floor as she all but raced to get to me.

I walked slower, and once we were at the door, she was by my side, and I inhaled that hallucinogenic, honeyed scent that was all Mila. The gala was held at one of the many fancy banquet halls.

With gold and glass chandeliers framing the expensive and painted ceilings. Tiled marble floors with decorated tables and reserved chairs, all donned in light gold colors and sheets.

They always went all out with these events, and I only started enjoying them recently because Mila was with me. She was quiet and mostly stayed in her seat, but I still had the time of my life with her.

The ostentatious stage had an even grander piano where a man in a suit played a melody while a woman at the center of the stage sang a softer remedy of Christmas songs.

Some people were sitting, some were dancing, and others were eating and drinking. Even though it was crowded, it wasn't loud or overbearing.

I mostly zoned everyone out and focused on Mila, who was also looking around the hall. There were open bars, caterers in matched uniforms walking around the busying crowd of people offering champagne and other appetizers and sweets.

I grabbed two flutes of champagne from one passing by and handed one to her.

"Thank you. Do you need me to do anything specific?"

"No, I might be giving a toast later. Just enjoy yourself."

"I feel spoiled when you bring me to events like this." She murmured, leaning closer so that I could hear her. She took a sip, her golden eyes shining as she smiled at me.

Oh, baby girl. You deserve to be fucking worshipped.

"You let me know if you need anything," I said, and she gave me a nod. "There's our table over there."

Without thinking about it, I placed my hand on the middle of her bare back, and she gasped. I pulled away quickly.

"Sorry. I didn't-"

"It's fine. Your hand is just a little cold." She whispered, not meeting my eyes.

"I apologize."

I didn't touch her but led her to the table by walking in front of her. I pulled out her chair, and she sat down with her little clutch on her lap.