LIORA'S POV
Slowly, Damien turned around.
His dark gaze swept over every inch of me—lingering on my breasts, the curve of my hips, the dried blood on my hands before returning to my face.
A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.
"You bold thing," he murmured. "You run away from me for days... only to show up naked and bleeding in my home."
I lifted my chin proudly, refusing to break eye contact. "You kept your promise. You left me with no other choice."
He walked toward me slowly until he stopped inches away, his intense heat radiating against my bare skin.
His fingers closed around my jaw—firm, yet almost gentle.
"Fleeing for days," he whispered, studying my face, "only to surrender like this?"
His thumb grazed my lower lip, then trailed slowly down my throat, across my chest, and halted just below my navel. My breath caught in my throat.
"Do you think I bought you just because I want to fuck you?"
His hand remained still against my skin.
I searched his dark eyes. Then why do you need me, Damein?
I swallowed hard, steeling my resolve. "No matter why you need me, I'm here to make a deal with you. Destroy them. My father. Oscar. Dora. Everyone who destroyed my mother. Ruin them completely." I paused, my voice dropping to whisper. "And I will stand beside you."
Damien studied me for a long, silent moment.
"Revenge?" he repeated, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Interesting... I thought that word belonged to me."
"It belongs to both of us now." I met his eyes without blinking. "I'm ready to stand beside you."
"I knew you would be this interesting the first time I saw you," he murmured and abruptly pulled his hand away, leaving my skin feeling cold where his touch had just burned. "Get ready for what you're getting yourself into."
His gaze lingered on me for one last second.
"Not yet," he added softly. "I don't touch poisoned offerings the moment they're handed to me. I prefer to see if they bite first."
I exhaled slowly.
"We still have the company gala tonight," he said calmly, adjusting his shirt cuffs as if the last few minutes hadn't just happened. "And I need you by my side as my wife."
I will surely find out why you really need me beside you.
Without another word, Damien turned and left the room.
The silence that followed was heavier than the storm raging outside the window. I stood there alone, breathing heavily as I looked out at the massive Sterling billboard glowing across the skyline.
"Mum... I will reclaim everything."
A soft knock on the door broke the quiet. A maid walked in, her head bowed respectfully as she carried a folded set of black silk garments and a tray of hot food.
"Mr. Sterling asked me to bring this to you, ma'am."
I looked down at the steaming food. "I'm not hungry."
"Please, ma'am," the woman whispered, panic lacing her voice. "He said he would fire me if you didn't eat... and I have nowhere else to go with my daughter."
I looked at her frightened eyes, softened, and took the tray. "Thank you."
Once she left, exhaustion finally overtook me, sinking me into a deep, restless sleep.
The next morning, warm sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gently kissing my face.
I blinked against the glare and bolted upright, taking in the luxurious bedroom around me. Dark silk sheets were tangled around my body, and Damien's heavy cologne lingered on the pillows.
"Get up if you're awake," a voice drifted from the open door.
I slowly slid out of bed and walked into the dining area. Damien was sitting shirtless at the table, wearing low-slung black trousers. The golden morning light outlined the chiseled muscles of his chest and arms, but he didn't look up from his coffee as I approached.
I paused at the door, taking in how calm he looked after destroying so many lives. I shouldn't be surprised. That's just how his family is.
"Stop staring and come sit down," he ordered without raising his head.
I averted my eyes and walked over, sitting across from him.
He pushed a plate toward me. "Eat. You're too thin. You need to gain weight before the gala."
I glanced at the toast, then at him, before slowly picking up a piece.
"Sign this when you're done," he said, sliding a thick file across the table.
My heart raced as I flipped it open. It was the deed to my mother's apartment. The demolition order was stamped CANCELLED in bold black ink. Tears blurred my eyes, but my heart stopped when I read the name listed under the ownership line.
It didn't say my father's name. It didn't say mine.
Stamped in unyielding letters was DAMIEN STERLING.
My fingers gripped the edge of the folder as I looked up at him. "I thought you were giving it back to me?"
He didn't look up from his coffee cup. "It is yours."
"But it says your name—"
"Everything I own is yours," he interrupted, leaning back in his chair. "When you're beside me."
He stood up and walked to the edge of the glass terrace, looking out over the glittering city below with his hands tucked into his pockets. "I might change the owner depending on how well you play your part tonight... Or I might turn it into the next Sterling flagship project."
"Don't touch that place," I warned, my knuckles turning white as I squeezed the leather file. Then, forcing myself to stay calm, I slowly loosened my grip. "I'm not going anywhere. Besides... I have nowhere else to go."
"We're leaving at eight sharp tonight," he added, his side profile sharp against the morning sun. "Get ready."
With that, he walked away.
***
I stood in front of the full-length mirror, watching the way the red silk gown clung to every curve of my body. My hand moved down to my hip, then darted to my bag on the vanity. I pulled out a small glass and slid it into my purse.
Just as I snapped the purse shut, the bedroom door swung open.
Damien walked in wearing a tailored black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and commanding presence. His dark eyes met mine in the mirror's reflection. I lowered my gaze, my fingers fumbling with the zipper at the back of my dress.
He walked up behind me, his broad body blocking out the light. Slowly, his fingers grazed my bare spine as he pulled the zipper all the way up.
"Thanks," I murmured, offering a smile.
"Let's get going if you're ready," he said, turning around.
"Damien," I called out, my hand wrapping around his wrist.
He froze, his dark eyes dropping to my hand on his skin.
I quickly pulled my hand back. "I'm sorry... I just wanted to... thank you for stopping the demolition."
He stared down at me for a long moment before taking a slow step closer. "I did what I had to do."
"Thank you." I smiled again.
***
The massive glass doors of the Makadonna Sterling Hotel swung open.
My heels clicked against the polished marble floor as I wrapped my arm tightly around Damien's elbow, forcing a radiant, graceful smile onto my face. Warm golden light spilled into the night air, illuminating the grand entrance.
Soft jazz drifted from the ballroom, mingling with the low murmur of wealthy conversations, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses.
As the double doors of the main ballroom were pushed open for us, the ambient noise fell dead silent.
Heads turned instantly. Murmurs rippled through the elite crowd as eyes locked onto Damien, then shifted to me, and finally settled on my hand resting comfortably on his arm.
A sharp, hateful stare was piercing right through me from near the bar. I slowly looked over
And then I saw them.
Oscar.
Standing in a tailored suit, looking every bit the pathetic liar he was.
And right beside him was Dora.
Their eyes locked onto mine.
I smiled at them and slowly wrapped my second hand around Damien's arm, leaning into his side.
Damien looked down at my hands, then followed my gaze across the room to Oscar and Dora. When they noticed Damien looking, they instantly bowed their heads.
A dark smirk played on Damien's lips. "I hope you're ready to deliver on what you promised," he whispered near my ear.
My fingers tightened around the glass vial inside my purse. "More than ready."
Across the room, whispers broke out among the guests:
"Who is that with Damien...?"
"What happened to Vanessa?"
