Chapter 3

Carmela’s heart pounded as she stood frozen at the door of Damion’s office. His sharp gray eyes fixed on hers, enigmatic yet powerful. Her thoughts raced to find a reason, anything that could clarify why she was present and what she had just listened to.

“I… I apologize,” she faltered, stepping back slightly. "I was simply... about to come call you for dinner, but you looked occupied with a lot of things." She turned quickly, desperate to escape the suffocating tension that filled the room.

“How long were you standing there?” Damion’s voice cut through the air like a blade, stopping her in her tracks.

Carmela swallowed hard, keeping her back to him. “Not long,” she said weakly, her tone unconvincing even to herself.

Damion’s chair creaked as he leaned forward, his gray eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Did you hear anything?”

She paused, her shoulders tensing. She tilted her head a bit and looked at him. “I heard something about the Blake family and not knowing what will hit them,” she said cautiously.

His jaw tightened, but his face betrayed nothing else. Inside, however, his thoughts stirred. Is she hurt? Does she think I’m targeting her family? And why does it even matter to me if she is?

Quickly dismissing the thought, he scoffed. “Stop stalking me, Mrs. Blackwood. You wouldn't hear things that don't relate to you if you weren't listening in. Maybe next time, when you hear me speaking on the phone, you mind your business.”

"Right." Carmela managed a smile that failed to reflect in her eyes and stepped closer to the door. “I’ll leave you to your… plans.”

Before she could move farther, Damion stood and crossed the room in long, fluid strides. He grasped her arm softly yet assertively, his touch warm but authoritative. She faced him, her eyes wide, and he saw the slight shimmer of unshed tears. For a short instant, something within him contorted.

She was about to cry. Why does that bother him?

Yet as swiftly as the thought came to him, he dismissed it. His hold remained firm as he remarked, “Tomorrow evening, there’s a gala. You’re going with me.”

Carmela blinked in surprise. “A… gala?” she echoed. “I don’t think I’m ready for—”

“I didn’t ask if you were ready,” Damion interrupted, his tone clipped. “You’re my wife now, and appearances matter. You’ll be there.”

Her lips parted, frustration flickering across her face. “Damion, I honestly don’t believe—”

“I’m not concerned with your opinion.” He moved nearer, his imposing figure creating a shadow over her. “Let me remind you that I own you. Your opinions, your feelings, your readiness? None of it matters. You’ll be there because I said so.”

Carmela's breath caught as his words struck her, unraveling the final strands of her poise. Her chest constricted, and she sensed her feelings rising to the top. She was unable to keep it inside any longer.

“Why?” she burst out, her voice rising with raw emotion. “Why did you marry me? What do you even want from me? Is it my family’s money? Power? Revenge? What is it, Damion?”

Damion’s lips curled into a slight smirk, though his eyes remained cold. “"Is it important?" he asked calmly. “You're present at this moment, correct? That's all you have to be concerned with.”

His condescending tone was the final straw. The dam collapsed, unleashing Carmela’s frustration and sorrow like a tempest.

"I despise you!" she yelled, her hands tightening as she weakly hit his chest. "I despise you immensely!"

Damion remained unfazed as her fists struck his solid, well-built chest. His lips moved slightly, showing more amusement than irritation, as if her efforts to wound him were merely a trivial nuisance.

"You're pathetic," he whispered, his tone filled with derision.

Carmela's strikes diminished as her tears started to stream down. “Why are you so hard to deal with?” she murmured the inquiry, her voice breaking. "I believed… I believed perhaps this would be different, That you would be different. But you’re just—”

Before she could finish, Damion’s hands shot out, gripping her wrists. He nudged her away softly yet decisively until her back touched the chilly wall. Her breath was halted as he secured her hands above her head, immobilizing her.

The atmosphere was charged with excitement.

“Shhhhss…say no more,”

Damion towered above her, his body just inches away from hers. The heat of his breath touched her skin, causing her heartbeat to speed up. His gray eyes glowed with fervor as they met hers, and for an instant, time appeared to pause.

Carmela's breathing caught as his unoccupied hand reached for her face, gently pushing aside a loose strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers were unexpectedly tender, contrasting sharply with the aggressive manner in which he had held her. The quietness surrounding them was overwhelming, interrupted solely by the sound of her uneven respiration.

What could he be doing? she pondered, her thoughts racing. Was he about to… kiss her?

Her lips opened a bit while her gaze fixed on his. She was unable to turn away, unable to shift, even if she desired to. Her heart raced within her chest as his face drew nearer, the warmth of his presence engulfing her senses.

Just as his lips were close to touching hers, his phone started ringing.

The sharp sound shattered the moment, and Damion froze. Slowly, his lips curled into a smirk—a cruel, knowing expression that made Carmela’s cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Right on time,” he whispered, his tone soft and playful.

He let go of her wrists and took a step back, leaving her gasping and bewildered. Without saying anything else, he turned and walked off, taking his phone out of his pocket as if nothing occurred.

Carmela placed her hands on her chest, attempting to calm her pounding heart. Her tears had ceased, taken over by a blend of confusion, fury, and a feeling she couldn't fully understand.

What just happened?