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Somehow, Matthias remains calm as he responds. "I think I do."
His composure lends me temporary courage. "Damien... I promise you, it's not what you think."
But all it does is stoke his fury. "I'm pretty sure I told you that I never want to see or hear you ever again. So, your promises are worth fuck all to me, Clarissa. I don't know what spell you've put on my brother, but you listen to me, I'm not going to let you do to him what you did to me. Do you hear me? If I have to spend every last fucking dollar, every last second I have, I'm going to make sure he doesn't fall into the same trap I did."
Matthias holds his hand out, pushing on Damien's arm. "Okay, that's enough. I said stop it."
Damien hisses again. I've never seen him this angry, not even when I screwed up his life. "You're going to choose her over me? Really?"
"It's not about choice, it's about doing what's best for us. And what's best is us getting married."
"Do you love her?" he flings the question like a weapon.
Matthias stiffens.
"I said, do you love her?" Damien looks from Matthias to me and back to his brother.
"Damien..." Matthias says, his voice tight.
"Answer the fucking question, man! Are you marrying for love?"
Matthias doesn't even look at me when he answers. "No. This isn't about love. It's about business." The answer is clear, simple. Of course that's the answer, I never expected him to answer any differently. But it stings, it more than stings, it slashes at me.
He reaches out to touch me, but I duck out of reach. "Clarissa—"
I don't hear what else he has to stay. The air feels like incense burning my lungs, choking me.
Fuck.
No. Not now.
I can't.
I can't do this in front of them. Not Matthias, not again. And definitely not Damien.
My cells suck in whatever oxygen is left in my blood and with two hands, I push on Matthias's back, shoving him out of the elevator and pressing a button on the elevator floor panel.
Matthias realizes too late what I'm doing and by the time he turns and tries to step back into the elevator, the door slam shut.
Breathe.
You can breathe, Clarissa.
But the claustrophobia kicks in and I dig my hands into the gap between the elevator doors, willing them to open, to let me out.
By the time they open in the lobby, I'm drenched with sweat, each breath feeling like a fight to the death. And I'm on the losing end.
I run out to the street, flagging down the first taxi. Collapsing on the seat, I say, "Drive. Anywhere, just go."
And close my eyes, willing for escape.
***
"Miss. Miss, we're here."
I jolt awake and stumble out of the cab and out onto the street outside of Malt.
"Hey."
