Chapter 5- THE RED ENVELOPE

~DAMIEN~

The cold air hits my lungs like ice as I walk back into the mall, forcing deep breaths, forcing distance, forcing control I barely have left.

Holly’s scent still clings to me….warm sugar and winter vanilla, and every step feels like I’m dragging myself through quicksand.

I shouldn’t have kissed her.

Moon goddess, I shouldn’t have touched her.

But I can still taste her on my lips.

I shake my head hard, trying to pull my mind back to where it needs to be.

Ella.

I need to find Ella.

I weave through the Christmas crowd….kids laughing, parents calling, carol music echoing, and I’m barely holding myself together when suddenly…

“Dad?!”

I turn.

Ella stands near the center fountain, holding two bags, her hair pulled into a messy bun and her expression frozen in surprise.

Her gaze locks on me, eyebrows shooting up.

“Dad, what are you doing here? I thought you were at home.” She walks toward me, confusion written all over her face. “Why did you come out?”

I swallow, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Decided to take a stroll. Was passing by and saw Holly just outside. She informed me you're in here” I say.

She opens her mouth to speak. Then she suddenly looks past my shoulder and lights up.

“HOLLY!” she shrieks, waving wildly.

I freeze.

My heart stops.

I turn slowly, carefully.

And there she is.

Holly steps out from behind a pillar, her cheeks flushed from our kiss, her hair slightly tousled, trying, and failing, not to look rattled. Her eyes meet mine for barely a second.

Barely.

But it’s enough to punch the air right out of my chest.

Holly quickly looks away, smoothing her hoodie as she approaches.

Ella rushes toward her. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over the mall for you!”

Holly exhales shakily.

“I decided to step out for a bit for fresh air. So sorry for making you worried” she apologizes softly to Ella. “Besides, you're busy taking pictures.”

Ella sighs and shakes her head.

“It is fine. I would have been out since, but I just went to grab one last thing.”

“It is fine. It's a season of happiness…you should do things that make you happy and not resist it,” Holly says.

And why do I feel she's indirectly throwing that statement at me??

I almost snort. She is. And I know why.

Ella links her arm with Holly’s. “Anyway, we’re done, right? Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Holly nods and forces a small smile. “Yeah… let’s go.”

She stands close to Ella, but her gaze flickers toward me once….quick, nervous, before she looks away again.

They turn toward the exit, walking together through the glass doors into the cold evening.

I follow behind, giving space. Too much space.

Because if I get close to Holly again, I don’t trust myself not to….

Something catches my eye.

A sudden flash of red.

A single red envelope is tucked deep in the large Christmas tree near the entrance. I wouldn’t have noticed it if a cold gust hadn’t blown through the open doors.

Branches shake.

Ornaments jingle.

And the envelope loosens, slips, and falls…..landing right at my boots.

I frown.

I bend down.

And then I see it….written in small, neat lettering:

To Santa—from HOLLY.

My breath stops.

A heavy, cold shiver runs down my spine.

I turn the envelope in my hand.

It’s sealed. Warm from the lights of the tree.

And absolutely unmistakably hers.

It must be her letter of wishes to Santa. The one she had written in the booth.

What did she write?

Why does my chest tighten like this?

I glance toward the glass doors where Holly and Ella just stepped out into the snow.

Then back down at the envelope.

And against every logical part of me, against every instinct screaming at me to walk away, I break the seal.

And slowly, carefully…I begin to read.

The moment my eyes hit the first sensual line—

I want him. The man I should never want…

my entire body goes rigid.

As I read further—every erotic detail, every sinful desire, every description of what she wants me to do to her ... .my jaw clenches harder, breath roughens, pupils dilate.

And by the time I read the last line….

Give me him this Christmas, Santa… just one night to be touched by him….

I am not breathing.

I fold the letter slowly, deliberately, like a man trying to control a wildfire spreading inside my chest.

Then I look up.

I see her across the snow-covered courtyard.

And something in me snaps.

~ HOLLY~

I see Damien walking toward me….not calm, not collected, but with a dark, focused intensity that makes the world fade.

“Go home now, Ella. Holly and I will join you later. There's something I need to show her,” he tells Ella.

It's a command. Her brows furrow in confusion, but she dare not argue…not when he used that tone.

“Okay, dad” she says softly, then to me. “See you later, Holly.”

And then she's on her way back home.

“Damien?” I whisper, confused as I watch Ella go home.

He doesn’t answer.

His hand wraps gently but firmly around my wrist, pulling me into the shadow behind the tree, hidden from the crowd and the lights.

The moment we’re out of sight, he pins me softly against the wooden beam behind us, not rough, but with the unmistakable hunger of a man who’s been pushed past restraint.

He holds up the red envelope.

“You hung this on the tree,” he says quietly.

His voice is deep, dangerous.

My heart stops.

What the fuck?? Did he just read all my sinful confessions??

Damn!!!

“I…Ella told me to…” I stammer, searching for words to say.

“Ella told you what to write??” He teases, his tone laced with dark obsession.

I shake my head. “No.”

“You wrote this.” His eyes burn. “You wrote every word.”

My breath trembles.

“Yes.”

The word barely leaves my mouth before he steps closer….so close that his chest brushes mine

and his breath warms my lips.

“You want me to ruin you for Christmas?” he murmurs, repeating my words back to me, sinful and slow.

Heat shoots straight through me.

I nod shakily.

He exhales a harsh, tortured breath—the sound of a man losing the last thread of control.

His hand slides to my waist. The other to the back of my neck. He tilts my chin up.

“Then look at me when you say it.”

My lips part.

“I want you.”

His grip tightens.

“Say it the way you wrote it.”

My knees weaken.

“I want you to touch me,” I whisper. “To kiss me. To take me the way I imagine at night. I want every forbidden thing…..”

And that’s all it takes.