Chapter 4: Betrayal Within

"Do you ever plan on telling me the truth, Naomi?" Damian’s voice sliced through the tense silence as we sat in his sleek black car. The rain pelted the windshield, mirroring the storm brewing between us. His knuckles were white against the leather steering wheel.

I kept my gaze fixed on the blurred city lights outside. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t play dumb," he growled, pulling the car over abruptly. The tires screeched as we came to a halt on the side of a deserted road. "Evan Reid." His words dripped with venom. "Why the hell was he talking to you at the event?"

My pulse raced. "He approached me. I didn’t seek him out."

Damian leaned closer, his face inches from mine, eyes dark with accusation. "And what did he say? Don’t lie, Naomi. I swear to God—"

"He gave me a card," I blurted out, my voice trembling. "Said I should call him if I wanted the truth about you."

For a moment, the only sound was the relentless pounding of the rain. Damian's expression hardened into a mask of fury. "You kept that from me?"

"I didn't know what to do," I defended. "You’ve made it clear you don’t trust me. What was I supposed to say?"

"You were supposed to tell me everything!" he exploded. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that man is? He's been trying to destroy me for years."

"I didn't ask to be dragged into your war, Damian!" My voice cracked. "This marriage wasn’t my choice, remember?"

His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, I thought he might actually calm down. Instead, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number.

"Who are you calling?" I demanded.

"Security," he said coldly. "To make sure Evan Reid never comes near you again."

"That's not necessary," I protested.

"It is when my wife can't be trusted to make that decision herself."

I flinched at the word "wife." He said it like it was a burden, a title forced upon me, and him alike.

"Damian—"

"Get out of the car," he ordered abruptly.

"What?"

"You heard me. I need a moment to think without you clouding my judgment."

The cold rain greeted me as I stumbled out onto the wet pavement. Before I could say another word, Damian drove off, leaving me shivering and alone on the dark road.

---

By the time I returned to the mansion, drenched and exhausted, Damian was nowhere to be found. The house was eerily quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace in the living room. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to suppress the chill that had settled in my bones.

"Mrs. Cross," a voice interrupted my thoughts. It was Daniel, Damian’s ever-efficient assistant.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Cross left instructions," he said stiffly. "You're not to enter his office or have any unsupervised access to company files."

I blinked in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"I'm afraid those are his orders."

"Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath. Damian had locked me out of his world completely.

Still, I wasn't going to sit idly by and be treated like a criminal. Something was going on, and if Damian wasn’t going to trust me, I’d find the answers myself.

---

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, I crept downstairs. The mansion was a labyrinth of opulent hallways and grand rooms, but I knew my destination: Damian’s private study.

The door was unlocked—a rare oversight for someone as meticulous as Damian. My heart raced as I stepped inside, the scent of leather and wood polish enveloping me. The room was dimly lit by a single desk lamp, casting long shadows across the shelves lined with books and framed accolades.

I moved quickly, knowing I didn’t have much time. My fingers skimmed across the surface of his desk until they found a hidden latch. With a soft click, a drawer slid open, revealing a stack of confidential files.

My breath hitched as I scanned the contents. Financial reports, project proposals, and—my stomach twisted—a series of emails between Damian and someone with the initials "L.V." The messages were cryptic but hinted at betrayals far deeper than I had imagined.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I froze, my blood turning to ice. Damian's voice was low and dangerous, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Slowly, I turned to face him. He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning with fury.

"I—" My voice faltered.

"Don't bother lying," he said coldly. "You're in my study, going through my files. That speaks for itself."

"You left me no choice," I shot back, surprising even myself with the defiance in my tone. "You’ve been shutting me out, treating me like the enemy. What was I supposed to do?"

"You think this justifies betrayal?" He stepped closer, towering over me. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm not betraying you," I insisted. "But someone is."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

I held up the file with the cryptic emails. "Who is L.V.? These messages sound like someone inside your company is feeding information to Evan."

For a moment, Damian’s expression flickered with something other than anger—shock, maybe even fear. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"You shouldn't have seen that," he said tightly.

"But I did," I pressed. "And if you want to save your company, you need to stop pushing me away and start trusting me."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken truths.

"Fine," he said, at last, his voice like steel. "But if I find out you’re lying, Naomi, there will be no coming back from it."

I swallowed hard, knowing this was my only chance to prove myself.

Damian took the file from my hands and glanced at the emails. His jaw tightened. "This goes deeper than I thought," he muttered.

"What are you going to do?" I asked cautiously.

"Handle it," he said curtly. "And you're staying out of it."

"Damian—"

"I mean it, Naomi." His gaze was fierce. "This isn't your fight."

But I knew better. Whether he liked it or not, I was already in the middle of it. And I wasn't going to back down now.

Damian turned to leave, but before he reached the door, a sudden, urgent beeping sound filled the room. His phone lit up with a security alert.

"What is it?" I asked, dread creeping into my chest.

He glanced at the screen, his face going pale. "There's been a breach at the company headquarters."

My heart pounded. "Do you think it's Evan?"

Damian's lips pressed into a grim line. "Get upstairs and lock the door," he ordered.

"But—"

"Now, Naomi!"

I hesitated, torn between fear and determination. But before I could argue further, Damian was already moving toward the front door, his phone pressed to his ear.

"Bring the car around," he barked into the phone. "And tell security to meet me at the building. This ends tonight."