My Dark Desire: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Dark Prince Road)
My Dark Desire: Chapter 30

He stood me up.

The telltale signs of disappointment looped around my ankles and tugged.

It was stupid. I had no reason to be upset. After all, I’d get my paycheck for this training session either way.

Now I had a rare ninety minutes of free time to do with as I pleased.

And still, almost ten minutes had passed since the appointment time, yet I hovered by our piste, wrapped up in full fencing gear, my helmet clutched in my fist as I surveyed the gym.

Did I keep waiting?

Only if you’re an idiot.

Hmm… debatable these days.

With a huff, I plopped down on the piste, my elbows digging into my knees.

Another ten minutes passed.

Then fifteen.

After twenty, I called it quits.

He wasn’t going to come.

Screw this.

I hopped up, swung my weapons carrier over my shoulder, and strode out the gym. Fencers around me battled in full force.

The humming air conditioners and clinking swords assaulted my ears. Envy licked at my chest, something dark blooming within.

Anger.

He could have texted me.

He should have texted me.

I could be home. In bed. Perhaps sleeping a full four hours for the first time in two years.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. How dare he? The last decent sleep I had was in the womb.

My feet slapped the tiles as I stomped into the locker room, traded my gear for a plain t-shirt and jeans, and bulldozed toward the exit.

I marched by indoor basketball courts, Pilates studios, pickleball fields, and golf simulators.

The more uber-rich assholes I passed that reminded me of Zach, the more the temperature spiked inside me. I could crack an egg in my veins right now and fry it in two seconds flat.

By the time the club’s spa stretched before me, I’d added hunger to my list of reasons Zachary Sun had landed on my shit list.

Perhaps I’d begun hallucinating, because I swore that I saw Andras head inside.

Odd.

The man wouldn’t recognize a Botox needle if it stabbed him in the eye.

Frowning, I darted after him, diving to catch the door before it closed and planting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, about our conversation…”

The man turned, and I realized it wasn’t Andras at all.

“Sorry.” I yanked back my hand. “Wrong person.”

“Hey, Fae.” Stacey, the receptionist, grinned at me from behind her station. “How’re you doing?”

“Great.” I smiled back. Lies tasted like nothing these days. “You?”

I crept toward the door without turning, too tired to carry on a conversation with someone I barely knew. The club employed us both, but I could count on one hand the number of times we’d spoken and still have fingers left over.

“Not bad. My boyfriend is taking me to Spain next month. I think he might pop the question.” She twirled a curl around her finger, eyes sweeping over the ceiling as if the drywall had her Pinterest wedding board projected on it. “Oh. I forgot to ask… Are you sick or something? Need anything?”

Common sense, maybe, with the way I’ve been thinking about my asshole boss.

I frowned. “No, why?”

“No reason.” She tucked her pen behind her ear. “It’s just that I saw your student entering the sauna, so I figured you canceled your class.”

“What do you mean you saw my student?” I scratched my temple. “He was here?”

“He is here.” She cocked her head to the back of the spa. “In the sauna. If he hasn’t evaporated by now.” She giggled. “Been in there for forty minutes.”

Son of a…

He’d made it to the venue but never went in? Why?

I bit the corner of my cheek, cursing my foolishness. I’d forgotten rule number one in life: never expect anything from anyone. It only leads to disappointment.

“Excuse me.” I ramped up my fake smile, already headed to the sauna. “I think I left something back there.”

She frowned. “But you never went in⁠—”

Her voice drifted into the distance with the speed I trotted past her. Latent anger drummed a beat against my veins.

Something else intertwined with it.

Excitement—at the prospect of seeing him in nothing but a towel.

Correction—at the prospect of maiming him in nothing but a towel.

Zach sat alone in the deserted sauna, head pressed against the shadowed wall, oblivious to the Peeping Tom before him.

On my tiptoes, I peered inside through the small square window, pulse ratcheting at the sight of his carefree expression.

He rolled his neck, massaging away a knot in nothing but a white towel. His raven hair dripped sweat across his face. He looked like a bronze god, his biceps and abs bulging and glistening.

The dull ache between my legs intensified, and that was when I realized it had always been there. That it had never really left since I got myself off in his library.

My backpack hit the floor with a soft thud. I pushed the door open and strolled in, still clothed.

Zach’s eyes remained firmly shut, but somehow, he still said, “How did you replace me?”

“Followed the stench of wealth.”

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to get offended?”

“This is the part where you tell me why you stood me up.”

Steam slowly seeped into me, marinating with the rage boiling in my veins. The humidity glued my hair to the nape of my neck, dampening my clothes until they clung to my body.

If he opened his eyes, he’d get a front-row view of my nipples saluting him through the white fabric.

He didn’t.

Zach adjusted the rolled towel behind his neck, eyes still closed. “Didn’t feel like seeing your face.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I think we’ve established I’m not one to joke around.”

Stepping forward, I shook my head. “You can’t just stand me up.”

“I can.” His eyes snapped open, his mood shifting from nonchalant to attentive in 0.2 seconds. “Case in point—I did.”

“If you’d have told me, I could’ve slept in.”

“You couldn’t have, though. You had training with Andras.”

“I could’ve shifted things around.”

“Negatory again. You have work to do, Cinderella.”

“But I⁠—”

He cut me off. “Did you know that the female octopus does not eat or clean herself after giving birth? She dies soon after she tends to her eggs. Males, too, become senescent and expire a few weeks after mating.”

What?

“That’s depressing.” And bizarre. “Thanks for the not-so-fun fact. Anyway, back to the topic⁠—”

“The female octopus can lay as many as four hundred thousand eggs. And she spends her life protecting them, night and day, shielding them with her body before perishing once they hatch.”

“Are you vying for a National Geographic career?” Salty sweat leaked into my mouth. The wet air drenched my whole body from head to toe. This no longer felt like the glamorous confrontation I’d expected it to be. “What does any of this have to do with anything?”

“You seem fiercely loyal.” He hitched a shoulder up. “I once knew a man like that.”

I refused to let him butter me up. Especially since this marked the first time we’d spoken to each other since he saw me masturbating.

I shook my head. “I’m so angry with you.”

“Don’t be.”

“Why?”

His nostrils flared. “Because.”

“That’s not an answer, Zach.”

“Because…” He slapped the side of the bench, breathing fire. “The only reason I didn’t show up was because you’re a temptation.”

The heavy pants ripping out of his chest made his pecs move up and down. He was gloriously gorgeous. Lickable from head to toe.

And we were all alone.

His confession filled me with satisfaction.

“You replace me attractive?” I asked, even though I felt about as desirable as a soiled napkin while sweating my body weight through my clothes.

He flicked lint off the towel secured around his waist. “You know I do.”

“You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

His lips pursed. “It’s… hard.”

“Hmm.” I tapped my pout with my finger. “That’s how it’s usually supposed to be, sweetie. Unless you need Viagra.”

“I’m not talking about it.” His eyes slid down to the towel. It was growing beneath it, the ridge of his thick, long cock pressing against the pristine white fabric. “I’m talking about all of it. Touching. Letting go. Changing. It’s one thing to try and succeed. But if I fail…” He swore, rubbing his jaw. “If I fail, it’s a nail in the coffin. The final confirmation I need to fully accept that I can never have any trace of something human to enjoy.”

“Zach—” My voice cracked.

“I live the life of an immortal. Nothing means anything to me, Farrow. Not living. Not dying. Not eating. Not drinking. Not laughing. I have no range of emotions for the simple reason that I possess no such thing. You are the only person I have ever come across that I want to touch. So, if this doesn’t work⁠—”

“It will work,” I cut him off, heart pumping so fast, my chest could cave at any second.

I wanted to help him. Not only because the tingling between my legs had become unbearable every time we were in the same room, but because I wanted the man who protected me to live.

To experience normalcy. Pleasure. Orgasms.

I pulled my shoulders back, staring him right in the eyes. “I will make sure it works.”

He wet his lips, obvious wariness lurking within his pupils… but also laced with something else.

Curiosity?

Suddenly, the walls of the tiny, scorching room felt like they were inching together, closing in on us.

I decided to take action.

With one smooth move, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it off, dumping it on the wooden planks.

Zach didn’t respond, save for the bob in his throat that told me he was paying close attention. My heart galloped in my chest.

A drop of sweat rolled between my breasts and beneath my bra, journeying down to my belly button and disappearing inside it.

He watched its descent with hungry eyes. I took a step toward him, releasing my hair from the clip holding it together.

Zach tilted his head up and watched in fascination.

“Tell me something interesting about yourself.” I unbuttoned the first button of my jeans, stripping for him. “Distract yourself while you let your body react to this.”

“I…” he started, then stopped.

I loosened another button on my jeans.

Then another.

“You what?”

Was that throaty voice even mine?

I didn’t recognize it.

I pulled my jeans down in one go and kicked them to the side. They tangled with my shirt. I was sure my white cotton panties were see-through with how wet they were.

Zach wore vulnerability like a bespoke suit, somehow complementing his high cheekbones and sharp jaw.

“I’m a virgin,” he admitted, his eyes searching mine.

For mockery.

For confusion.

For pity.

He found none of those things.

Because the truth was… all I felt was pain for him. Pain and a pang of possessiveness that rattled me.

I had no right to feel it. I’d told myself I wouldn’t get attached. But I couldn’t help it. He looked like a boy in that moment, not one of the richest, most attractive men on the planet.

I am going to take his virginity.

I am going to have something no one else has ever had—Zachary Sun.

I inched toward him, unclipping my bra behind my back with one hand. “That’s not something you should be ashamed of.”

He released a bitter chuckle. “I’m a thirty-three-year-old virgin.”

“You’re a man with a traumatic past that makes it hard to touch or feel,” I countered, guessing but also certain.

He never spoke of it in interviews, but I’d run across articles describing his father’s gruesome death—and the condition firefighters had found Zach in.

If that had been me, I’d be inconsolable.

Forever changed.

Forever damaged.

I let my bra slide off my arms. My tits swelled, full and ready to be touched. His eyes trained on the way my nipples stood on end like two diamonds.

He watched transfixed as I treaded his way.

“That thing with Eileen…” He cleared his throat. “It isn’t real. It’s an arrangement.”

“I know.”

And I still hate it, even though I have no right to.

I reached him and straddled his waist, everything bare but my panties. My knees sank to the bench on either side of him, hovering above without touching him.

I propped a hand against the wall to keep my balance.

He tilted his head up, observing me through hooded, lust-drunk eyes. “How do you know?”

“Because I saw the way you looked at her.”

“And how did I look at her?”

“Like she’s a 600-page merger guideline you need to sign.”

A chuckle escaped him. It moved his neck and chest an inch closer to me. My pussy leaked in response.

I felt empty.

So empty.

“Bylaws aren’t usually signed.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. I like your sense of humor. If I ever develop one, it would look something like yours.”

This was the oddest, most heartwarming compliment I’d ever received.

“Anyway…” I frowned, longing to touch him. “You shouldn’t marry her if you don’t like her.”

“Liking someone has nothing to do with marrying them,” he countered, his eyes dropping to my tits.

His hands twitched by his sides.

I knew he wanted to touch them.

But I also knew that he wouldn’t.

He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

He licked his lips. “In fact, the less I like her, the better our marriage is going to be. Catching feelings is a terrible weakness. Look at what it did to Romeo.”

I shook my head. “Oh, Zach.”

“What?”

“What it did to Romeo is a wonderful thing—it made him happy.”

I wanted to touch his face, his hair, his muscular arms, but I stopped myself. Instead, we stared at each other, breathing the same hot, humid air. Getting used to the proximity.

I knew someone could walk into the sauna any minute now. That I could be banished altogether from this country club and the fencing team.

And still, I didn’t care.

“Farrow,” he growled, finally, eyes gliding down to the triangle between my thighs. To my wet panties.

“Yes?”

“I want to see your pussy dripping for me again.”

“Take them off of me, then.”

His nostrils flared, and he concentrated, frowning at my panties like they had personally attacked him.

I stifled a giggle.

“I might touch you if I do,” he said after a beat.

“I would love that, Zach.”

He reached for them, and this was my chance.

I curled my spine, withdrawing from him slightly. “On one condition.”

He looked up, alert, hair dripping, face perfect. “Yes?”

“You fulfill your part of the bargain. You hire me a private investigator and a team of lawyers.”

“Done.”

I gave him a small nod, even though I regretted the timing of the reminder. It made this a transaction, which it wasn’t.

I wanted him with or without the lawyers.

I just also wanted to erect a barrier. To remind myself the ugly truth.

Zachary Sun will never be mine.

I didn’t know what was more tragic. That I wanted him. Or that I knew it would never happen.

He licked his lips and cracked his knuckles, like he was preparing for a fight. My emotions veered between wanting to kiss him better—his scars, his fears, his inhibitions—and amusement at how seriously he took all this.

Zach brushed his fingertips along the elastic of my panties, careful to avoid my flesh. “Seeing you touch yourself yesterday made me almost bust my load right there in my office.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” I bowed my back, enjoying the feel of his fingers through my panties.

It felt forbidden and clandestine. Like a dirty secret only he and I shared.

His jaw clenched, his trembling hand sliding down my panties. “I didn’t want to admit that I was affected by you.”

For a novice, he’d mastered the art of teasing, pressing his palm against me until it covered my entire pussy through my underwear.

And still, his fingertips didn’t brush my skin.

“Fuck, you’re soaking wet.” He dropped his head back and hissed. “I want to nail you through the wood until you become a permanent fixture in it.”

Whoa.

Okay. Somebody needed to put dirty talk very slowly and very carefully on the floor and kick it toward me.

But now wasn’t the time to discourage him. He’d made huge progress. This was the same man who’d given himself burns after shaking a woman’s hand.

“I need you to fuck me so bad.”

The confession stumbled out of my mouth.

I realized that I meant it. There was nothing I wanted more than to be full of Zachary Sun’s cock. His hand alone through my panties almost made me come, the pressure too delicious, too intense to ignore.

With a ragged breath, Zach curled his fingers, digging into my ass through the cotton, somewhat painfully. He pressed his other thumb to my clit.

A ripple of pleasure rocked through my body, rattling my knees. My thighs burned, struggling to keep myself hovered above him.

“Is this okay?” He was breathless.

I peered down at his hand, noticing that he was rock hard between us. Completely erect, the heavy crown of his cock peeking through the slit of the towel.

A drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip.

I wanted to lean down and scoop it in my mouth.

“It’s perfect.” My nipples were so sensitive, I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed one of my tits and began massaging it, tugging at the sensitive bud. “Keep going.”

He dug his thumb harder into my clit, and I almost combusted right there and then, a rush of liquid heat rolling from my lower belly to my core.

I let out a cry. “Massage it, please. But… gently. In circles.”

I wanted him to do to me exactly what I’d done to myself to ease the need I’d felt the other day.

He rolled his tongue along his lower lip, thumb slowly massaging my clit, teasing it with confidence. My skin burst into goosebumps, the pleasure absurdly intense.

I began riding his finger, closing my eyes, slapping my own tit, pretending his finger was the tip of his cock.

I’d lost it.

I’d officially lost control.

“I want to touch your skin.” Desperate need thickened his voice.

I opened my eyes to look between his legs. His dick was so engorged, it was purple. It had to hurt.

“Do it.”

“I… I can’t.” His voice was pleading.

“Just distract yourself. Tell me something else.”

Something that isn’t about Eileen, preferably.

I knew they were just for show. That theirs would be a marriage of convenience. But I still didn’t like to think of him with another woman.

The pressure between my legs intensified. My head swam, thoughts swirling in one direction like a cyclone.

I was on the brink of the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, and he hadn’t even touched my skin yet.

“I have not set foot in a normal civilian vehicle since… since what happened to me.” His throat bobbed with a swallow, his fingertips gliding toward the junction between my ass and my thighs—to my bare flesh. “I only drive army-grade, military-protected vehicles.”

What happened to you? Who did this to you? I wanted to scream, but I knew I had to keep the conversation going. To keep him distracted.

“Do you want to change that?”

A single fingertip touched my skin. It lit a fire on that spot, shooting a fuzzy buzz through my entire body.

His other hand still pressed against my pussy through my panties, thumb flicking my clit.

“I don’t know. Yes. No. Maybe.” His pinky fully rested on my skin now. “I want to experience what being normal is like. I want to be…” He paused, peering up at me with white-hot lust in his eyes. “Human.”

You are human.

I wanted to scream it at him. I wanted to tattoo it on his chest, right over his heart, to remind him he had blood, flesh, and bones.

Just like the rest of us.

Good job, Fae.

So much for keeping an emotional distance.

What did I care if Zachary Sun felt human in that dark, soulless chest of his? I was treading in dangerous waters, pretending not to see the tsunami rushing toward me.

I cleared away the errant thoughts, focusing on his pinky against my thigh. “How does it feel?”

He knew exactly what I meant.

My skin.

“It feels… not awful. Foreign. Like experiencing a new texture for the first time.”

“Your dirty-talk game is strong.”

One corner of his lips tipped up. They were beautiful. Hand-drawn and pink.

I wondered if I would ever get to kiss them. How it’d feel against my own. I wanted it, but we’d never agreed to kissing.

Only sex.

He stared between us, where his finger touched me. “What do you want me to do now?”

“I feel… empty,” I admitted.

His thumb on my clit stopped, and I thought I’d topple over and burst into flames. I clawed at the walls, fighting the throb between my legs.

We dripped sweat over one another, exchanging breaths like they were kisses.

Then, he did the most glorious, sexy, maddening thing he could do.

He released his cock from the towel, grabbed it at the base, and guided it to my pussy, pressing it against my panties.

His eyes fluttered shut. Mine did, too, the mounting pressure from his tip alone tensing my entire body.

I clenched around nothing, on the brink of a release, needing to be filled.

“You d-don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” I could barely tear the words out of my mouth.

“Farrow,” he hissed, letting his head rest against the wall, his chin tipped up. His hand moved his dick up and down my slit in slow, deliberate movements. “The fucking world coming to an end couldn’t stop me from making you come.”

His words undid me.

With a savage moan, I began riding the tip of his cock through my panties, moving my body to the rhythm of our pants. Heavy footsteps and laughter trickled into the sauna.

We were too far gone to care.

Zach’s hand clasped my ass now, half of it covering my skin. He tucked his pinky into my panties, teasing my tight hole.

He rolled his head back and forth against the wall, eyes shutting. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

I wanted more, but I knew he couldn’t handle it. That we’d reached the edge of his capacity.

The door behind me shot open. Someone padded into the sauna, slicing through the steam. My heart jolted in my chest.

We had company. Where I worked.

I swiveled my head to see who’d come in.

Zach grabbed my chin and steered it back to face him. “Eyes on me, Little Octopus. He doesn’t matter.”

He.

There was a man there.

Jesus.

And yet, the feeling was too good, the orgasm too close.

We were both dripping wet, hot and heavy, slow-fucking through my panties. His tip teased my ass, my slit, my clit.

Everywhere.

I trained my eyes on Zach. “Is he gone now?”

Zach shook his head, his face completely tranquil, studying me. “No. He sat on the opposite bench. He’s watching us.”

My mouth dropped open. I moved to climb off of him, but Zach’s hand snuck from my ass to my lower back, fingers splayed over it with force.

He sank me a few inches onto his cock, stretching the fabric of my panties so thin, I could feel him throb inside me. Touching, but not touching.

I wanted to explode from pleasure.

What is wrong with you, Fae?

Too much to count.

Shame, embarrassment, and desire pirouetted over my skin. I couldn’t believe I was letting him dry-fuck me while someone watched.

At least I now knew I hadn’t done this for the money or the help.

I would have slept with Zachary Sun either way.

“Zach,” I choked out, wishing I could put my hands on his shoulders, to embrace him, to kiss him, to feel more of him. “I’m not going to be able to take all of you in when it’s time.”

“You will. You’ll take every inch like a good girl.”

The intruder shuffled behind me.

Zach looked strained, barely in control, one hand sliding as much of his cock in and out of me as my panties would let him, the other holding me steady by my lower back.

His grip on me tightened, possessive. “He’s masturbating now.”

I didn’t know this man.

I didn’t even know what he looked like.

But I was undeniably turned on by the thought of someone stroking himself to the sight of us.

“I want to watch you as you come all over my fucking cock, Farrow,” Zach growled into my face, close now—too close.

My heart picked up speed.

I clamped over the tip of his cock, threw my head back, and came. Shattered. Soaked my thighs with a gush of wetness.

My head fell back, eyelids fluttering open. I spotted the man on the bench opposite to ours.

He was young-ish. Unfamiliar and utterly sexy. His towel splayed open all the way, his long cock thick beneath his fist. He pumped his dick hard, increasing his pace, close to the finish line, too.

My body tightened like a bowstring. I was coming, and coming, and coming. Toes curled, muscles shaking, mouth dry, stars dancing all over my vision.

“Farrow,” Zach hissed.

I couldn’t stop looking at the stranger behind me.

We made eye contact.

I felt like he was fucking me, too.

Zach gripped my jaw—touching so much of my bare skin—and steered it back to face him. “Look at me right now before I stab this bastard right in the heart.”

“You can’t go around killing everyone who looks at me.”

“I’m afraid I can and fucking will. Don’t try me.”

I believed him wholeheartedly.

He’d sliced a man for less. For almost pinching my ass.

This man was fantasizing about fucking me while I was in Zach’s arms.

I stared straight into Zach’s eyes, the waves of pleasure from the orgasm crashing against my skin.

“What do you care?” I taunted him with a smile, still riding his swollen crown, mixing my cum with his pre-cum. “I can do whatever I want—with whomever I want. You’re going to have a fiancée in half a second. We’re not exclusive. We’re not even in a relationship.”

His lips thinned. “The marriage won’t be real.”

“The ring will be and so will the paperwork.” I warned, “I’m not going to sleep with a married man.”

“It wouldn’t be cheating. We’re both free to take lovers as we please.” His abs contracted as he tried to keep himself from coming. “And I’ll be cured long before I put a ring on, so don’t worry. Neither of you are endgame. Not her, and not you.”

His words stung, but before I had a chance to let the insult fully sink in, he squeezed his cock, wincing as though he was in pain.

He pulled out of my soaked underwear and came, firing thick strings of hot cum all over my stomach. We watched in fascination as he marked me, jet after jet.

Our eyes met after a few seconds.

“You touched me,” I croaked.

His eyes looked angry, his mouth curled in a snarl. For a moment, I thought he’d lash out at me. That he’d run out and give himself third-degree burns washing my presence away from him.

I shook with anticipation and dread.

But instead, Zach grabbed me by the waist—fingers shaking, touching my skin—and brought me up to my feet with him.

Without a word, he collected the tattered clothes I’d discarded on the floor—now completely wet—and tossed the balled fabric into my arms without touching me.

I stood frozen, my back still to our intruder.

“Put your bra and pants on, Octi.”

I did as I was told, though I had no idea why. It defied my nature to be obedient. Maybe I really did fear that he’d put a knife between that dude’s brows.

I pushed my jeans up my legs with a struggle, then did my bra.

Zach twirled my hair around his fist, using it as a rope to turn me before I had a chance to toss my shirt over my head.

We walked toward our intruder together, him guiding me with the makeshift leash. His sticky white cum slid down my stomach and into my jeans.

Shamefully, my clit tingled again, just from the thought of it leaking into my pussy.

We stopped a couple feet from the stranger.

I dragged my eyes up to meet his gaze. He looked spent, flushed and sweaty, his cock now concealed by his towel.

He stared at Zach with parted lips, not expecting the man to confront him.

“See this?” Zach gestured to his cum on my stomach. “Answer me, before I put a knife in your eye.”

“He will,” I informed the guy breathlessly, shaking from horror and… yes, from thrill, too.

“Y-yes,” the stranger finally coughed out. “I-I see it.”

“This is my cum. On her.” He tightened his hold on my hair, tugging deliciously. “She’s mine. Understood?”

“I’m not his.” My spine straightened, turning ramrod straight. I stared the man dead in the eye. “If I want to fuck you—if I want to fuck anyone else—I will.”

It was one thing to help Zach overcome his issues.

It was one thing to have him help overcome mine.

But I refused to be his toy. His plaything.

“Okay, easy there, please.” The dudebro raised his hands, his eyes ping-ponging between us, brows smashed together. “I just wanted to get into the sauna before work. I… I… you didn’t stop when I entered, so I thought it was okay to watch. Next time, I’ll ask.”

“Next time you stare at what’s mine,” Zach bent forward, whispering in his ear, “your pride won’t be the only thing you lose.”