Chapter 4

Damon's gaze locked onto Emilia's once more, but she quickly averted her eyes again, a habit that seemed to puzzle him.

Ever since they sat down at the table, she've been throwing him weird glances. He arched an eyebrow at her unusual behavior before shifting his focus back to the document he held in his hands.

They were seated across from each other at a long, polished table, while a man in a sharp suit stood beside Damon, the one who had handed him the paperwork just moments before.

“Is she the daughter of Marcule Hales?” Damon inquired of the man next to him. However, before the man could respond, Emilia interjected, “Actually, I’m his stepdaughter.”

Damon turned his attention back to her, realization dawning. “So, you are Emilia Hales…”

“Voss! It’s Emilia Voss. I refuse to go by that man’s name,” she interrupted him sharply.

The man standing beside Damon looked at Emilia with surprise, clearly taken aback by her boldness in interrupting Damon while he was speaking.

Damon set the document down on the table, his demeanor calm but his voice carrying a weight of seriousness. “I see. So, tell me, Emilia, were you attempting to escape when you bumped into me?”

Emilia cleared her throat, trying to find the right words to respond.

“It’s pretty clear, Mr… Blackwood. Whatever arrangement you made with Marcule, I’m completely unaware of it, and I’m strongly opposed to it.”

“Is that the reason you didn’t sign the seal?” Damon asked, his expression difficult to read.

Emilia nodded, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over her, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and presence. He seemed so intimidating yet calm and mysterious.

She often thought if this was truly the same man who was groaning from pain in his sleep and was running high on fever. Or the same man who was so warm while fucking her. He didn't seem like either right now.

“If you’re against this, Emilia, you have the option to back out. I won’t force you into anything,” Damon said, his tone steady.

Emilia wanted to feel a sense of relief at his words, but instead, an unsettling feeling crept over her. It felt like she was stepping into a trap. If he was so willing to let her go, why did it seem too easy?

“However,” he continued, extending his hand toward the man beside him, who she now knew was named Mike. Mike handed Damon another document.

With a swift motion, Damon tossed the document toward Emilia. “If you choose to leave right now, I’m afraid I’ll have to take legal action against your household. That includes both Marcule and… Sarah, your mother. But really, what’s the worst that could happen? They’d just end up in prison. You would too.”

Emilia blinked, struggling to grasp what he had just said. It couldn’t be true. What kind of mess had Marcule gotten her and her mother into? As she took the document and began to read, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“That bastard,” she muttered under her breath, closing the document and staring down at the table. She felt utterly powerless. Marcule Hales had finally managed to ruin her life.

“I could give you more time to think this over, especially since you seem so confused right now, but I’m afraid time is not on my side, Emilia. You need to sign the seal now, or you can walk away,” Damon said, his voice firm and unyielding.

Emilia glanced around the room, taking in the dark and eerie atmosphere. The only furniture present was a simple table and a few chairs in which they sat, making the space feel almost empty.

If she decided to sign this seal, it would mark the beginning of a life that mirrored the gloom of the Blackwood mansion—dark, eerie, and devoid of warmth or happiness.

This was never the kind of life she had envisioned for herself, nor was it the family she had hoped to marry into. None of this was what she had ever wanted. Why did life have to be so cruel?

As tears threatened to spill from her eyes, Emilia blinked them away and lifted her chin defiantly. If signing this seal was the only way to protect her mother, then she would do it. Life might be cruel to her, but it was nothing compared to the struggles her mother had endured.

“I will sign the seal,” she declared firmly.

A small, unsettling smile appeared on Mike's face as he picked up the document and handed it to Emilia along with a pen. The sight of his smile filled her with anger, but she felt powerless to change the situation.

“However, under certain conditions, Mr. Blackwood,” Emilia said, looking up from the document to meet Damon's piercing blue eyes.

“You don’t have the right to set any conditions,” he replied, disappointment lacing his voice. “I thought for a moment that you were the clever type, Emilia. How disappointing.” As he spoke, he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a cigar.

He placed it between his lips, and Mike hurried over to light it for him. Damon inhaled deeply, letting the tobacco smoke curl into the air, his blue eyes still locked onto Emilia.

“I think it’s pretty clear, Mr. Blackwood, that I have no obligation to meet your expectations. This arrangement was made without my knowledge, so I insist that I should have a say in this matter and more,” she stated firmly.

A tense silence filled the room as Damon continued to smoke, his gaze fixed intently on Emilia. For a moment, she felt a wave of fear wash over her, worried that she had struck a nerve.

“Very well then. What are those conditions of yours?” he finally asked.

“First, you must explain the reason behind this. Why have you forced me into a marriage with you? What do you have to gain from this?” she pressed.

“It’s a family matter,” he replied blankly.

What? That’s all? She fought the urge to scoff at his vague response.

“Which means it’s nothing to do with… sexual needs or anything like that. I want nothing to do with you in that aspect, Mr. Blackwood.” It was difficult to voice this, as the thought of their past encounter flooded her mind, and she had to swallow hard to suppress the tingling sensation it stirred within her.

“I can’t guarantee you that,” he replied flatly once again, offering no further explanation for his words.

Just hearing that made shivers run down her spine, but she managed to scowl, trying her best to look disapproving.

“You’ll have to, Mr. Blackwood. Sure, you might be my husband on paper once I sign this, but you will never be a real husband to me. If you do anything beyond linking my arm or holding my hands, whether in public or private, I will consider it sexual harassment. So, you’ll have no choice but to cooperate just as I have no choice but to sign this against my will.” Well done, Emilia! She thought to herself, feeling a sense of pride.

“It seems you've forgotten too soon that I'm paying a heavy price for you. Do you know what that means, Emilia?” He leaned forward as he released curls of tobacco smoke into the air.

“I own you. Henceforth, I own everything about you. You won't tell me what to do with my own property will you?”

Emilia swallowed hard. All the confidence she had before now gone as she felt overwhelmed by every single thing about him, his tone, the eeriness of his voice and the way his eyes glittered as he watched her while saying he owned her.

“I am not your property Mr. Blackwood. I am not an item either and if you should do more than I've listed out, I'm afraid I'll have to rebel”, Emilia shot back despite the fact that she felt intimidated.

Damon smirked. It was the first time she saw him smile a bit even though it sent her chills.

“It seems you're also into painting just like your mother,” he said.

“And it seems you already know everything about me. How deep into my life did you dig?” She retorted.

She wasn't curious on how he knew but was more curious on why he suddenly changed the topic to that.

“Too bad. As long as you live here, Emilia, there will be no painting. I do not allow it in my mansion.”

She knew it. There was no good intent when he brought it up. But she wouldn't allow it. No way!

“I beg your pardon? That isn't just what I'm into Mr. Blackwood, it is my life so you have no right…”

“One more word about what are my rights and what are not Emilia, and you're done for. You'll leave this instance and you and your deadbeat of a father and mother are going to rot in jail.”

There was an immediate silence after that. Emilia sat straight as if suddenly struck by lightning. It was then she remembered. This man, Damon Blackwood, is the devil himself. She's heard about him, mostly from Dante, how tough and wicked he can be. Now she was witnessing it herself, his cruelty.

“You will not be painting while you’re in my mansion, Emilia. Never.” With that, he took the cigar from his lips, tossed it onto the table, and stood up.

“This conversation is done. Sign the documents, and then you will be assigned an assistant who will help you organize your room and get you new clothes or any other thing you need.”

After saying that, he turned and walked out of the room, with Mike trailing closely behind him, leaving Emilia all alone in the space.

“I wish you died from the fever that night in your sleep… In fact, I should've killed you myself”, Emilia said out loud but it was too late for Damon to hear.