DAMIENI’m sitting in the waiting room, staring blankly at the clock on the wall. Each second feels like a lifetime. My heart pounds in my chest, and my mind is racing with every worst-case scenario imaginable. The words "surgery" and "life-threatening" keep replaying in my head, over and over. I’ve never felt so damn powerless."Damien," my nanny’s voice pulls me out of my trance. She’s standing next to me, holding a cup of coffee that she offers with a sympathetic smile. "You should drink something. You’ve been sitting here for hours."I take the cup without really thinking, but I don’t drink. I can’t. “How long do these things take?” I mutter, more to myself than to her.Miss Rosie sits down next to me, folding her hands in her lap. "Sometimes longer than we want, but the doctors know what they’re doing. Anna’s strong. She’ll pull through."I nod, but the words don’t sink in. Miss Rosie’s trying to help, but it doesn’t stop the crushing weight of fear. I hate this—being here, waiti
ANNAThe soft hum of the hospital room’s air conditioning fills the quiet space. I’m staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. The pain in my side is a dull throb now, nothing compared to the agony I felt before the surgery. Still, the tightness lingers, reminding me of how close things got.I shift slightly on the bed, wincing as the ache sharpens. It’s hard to focus on anything, especially with my mind swirling. I still can’t believe this happened. Surgery. I’ve never had surgery before, and the thought of something like this hitting me so suddenly terrifies me. One minute I was just nauseous, thinking it would pass, and the next I was being rushed to the hospital with Damien by my side.He’s been here the whole time, holding my hand, watching over me. It’s strange, seeing him like this. I’ve always been confused about his feelings, and always kept my guard up, but now, his attention is unwavering. His care feels different.“Baby?” His voice breaks
ANNAAs we step through the front door, I feel a strange mixture of relief and nerves. It’s comforting to be back in familiar surroundings, but a sense of tension sits between Damien and me, a quiet buzz that has only grown since I left the hospital.Damien keeps his hand on my back as we walk through the house. “You need to rest,” he says, his voice softer than usual, as if afraid I’ll shatter under his care.“I know,” I reply, the words feeling small. I don’t resist as he leads me to my room, where I’ve been staying since we got married. But when he stops at the door, he pauses, glancing at me with something unreadable in his eyes.“Actually,” he begins slowly as if testing each word, “I think you should stay in my room. Just for tonight.”His words hang in the air, heavy and unexpected.I cross my arms, leaning slightly on the doorframe to steady myself. “Why?” The question comes out sharper than I intended, but I can’t help it. Sharing a room with Damien, especially with how tense
DAMIENAs morning light filters through the curtains, I wake up to the soft rise and fall of Anna's breathing beside me. She’s still asleep, looking so peaceful, and for a moment, I just lie here watching her, caught off guard by how beautiful she looks. I’m not exactly the sentimental type, but something about seeing her like this completely at ease, her hair falling loosely around her face—gets to me in a way I wasn’t expecting. It’s strange, the effect she has on me, and it makes me feel… out of my element. Since we got married, I've mostly kept my emotions in check, playing the role, and keeping things in order, but this morning, lying here next to her, that resolve feels thinner, stretched.I brush a few strands of hair away from her face, letting my fingers linger against her cheek. Her skin is warm and soft under my touch, and before I even realize what I'm doing, I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open, and for a brief second, I feel
DAMIENVanessa closes the office door behind her, and an unmistakable tension fills the room. She leans against the door, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me with that familiar look intense, unyielding as if she’s challenging me to break first. It’s a look I used to find thrilling, but now it feels… complicated. And that’s the last thing I want at this moment.“So,” I start, keeping my tone casual. “What’s this about, Vanessa?”She tilts her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, almost knowing smile. “You know what this is about, Damien. I thought we agreed things between us wouldn’t change just because you decided to go ahead with… this marriage.”She says the word as if it’s something bitter, something she can’t bear to even acknowledge. I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling the weight of her words settle over me.“We did talk, yes,” I reply carefully, keeping my voice level. “But things are different now. I have responsibilities. Anna… she’s my wife, Vanessa.”She sco
ANNAI’ve barely had time to sip my tea when my phone rings, Lola’s name flashing on the screen. Perfect timing. I settle onto the couch and pick up, eager to pour out everything that’s been happening.“Finally!” Lola's voice chirps. “I was starting to think you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”I laugh, a bit too quickly. “Not quite, but close enough. There’s so much I need to tell you. I don’t even know where to start.”“Well, I’m all ears. Spill it!” Her voice is giddy like she’s buckling in for a ride.I take a deep breath, wondering where to begin. “Okay, so you know how everything’s been a bit…awkward with Damien?”“Uh-huh, understatement of the year, Lola teases. “Go on.”“Well,” I continue, “he’s…different lately. There’s this new side of him. This morning, he…he kissed me, Lola.” The memory still feels surreal, leaving me warm and flustered.I can practically hear her jaw drop. “Hold up! You’re saying he kissed you, like, actually kissed you?”“Yes! And it felt…nice,” I ad
DAMIENI’m in my office, staring at the computer screen, as the numbers scroll by in a mocking parade of red and zeroes. This is a nightmare—one technical glitch, and suddenly I’m haemorrhaging money by the second. I clench my fists, willing myself to stay calm, but it’s like everything is slipping out of my control. My phone buzzes in my hand again, and I barely recognize the voice on the other end as mine when I bark a greeting.“James, where are we on this? I don’t want excuses. I need solutions!”The voice on the other line stammers, going on about server errors, and backup delays, but I can’t even process the words anymore. I grit my teeth, my patience unravelling like a thread.“Enough!” I snap, my voice colder than I intended. “I don’t care what you have to do—get it fixed. Now.”I hung up before he could respond and immediately called the finance team. They’re scrambling too, I know, but I don’t care. This is my responsibility, my reputation is on the line, and it feels like t
DAMIENIt’s only been a few days since that night in my office, but I can’t shake the memory of Anna—the feel of her lips, the softness of her touch, the way she held me like I was something more than a broken mess wrapped up in business suits and deadlines. I can still feel her presence, lingering like a shadow in my office, in my home, in every quiet moment that used to be reserved for the mental noise I’ve cultivated over the years. Work has only become more complicated since then, and I try to distract myself with calls and files. Yet, the harder I throw myself into my work, the more I crave her company. I keep replaying that kiss, wondering if it meant as much to her as it did to me—or if I just read too much into it like I always do. I glance at my watch. It's nearly midnight, and I’ve been hunched over my desk for hours. Numbers, data, endless calls to suppliers and disgruntled clients—it all blurs together, a wash of monotony that would usually lull me into a numb state of f
ANNAThe room is dim, lit only by a flickering bulb that barely illuminates the damp walls. My wrists are raw from the coarse ropes that bind me to the chair, and my throat feels like sandpaper. Nicholas’s menacing presence lingers, even when he isn’t in the room. I’ve lost count of how many hours or days I’ve been here.The door creaks open, and Nicholas steps inside, his dark eyes gleaming with malice. His lips curl into a smirk as he approaches, carrying a whip in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. My stomach growls at the sight of it, but I know better than to expect kindness from him.“Well, well, Mrs.Donovan,” he drawls, his voice dripping with mockery. “How’s your stay so far? Cozy?”I glare at him, my lips too dry to form words.He crouches down, holding the water bottle just out of my reach. “Thirsty?”I nod weakly, my pride shattered by my desperation.Nicholas laughs a cruel sound that echoes through the room. “Beg me for it.”My heart sinks. I know he’ll take ple
DAMIEN The walls of my office feel like they’re closing in as I stare blankly at the framed photo of my parents on my desk. It’s been years since I let myself feel this kind of raw, unrelenting pain—the kind that claws at your soul and doesn’t let go. My chest tightens, and before I know it, hot tears blur my vision.The last time I cried like this was the day we buried my parents. But now, I can’t hold it in anymore. I’ve failed Anna. I’ve failed to protect her, and the weight of that realization is unbearable.Evans sits across from me, his usual sharpness dulled by worry. "Damien, you need to pull yourself together. Crying won’t bring her back."His words, though harsh, ground me. I inhale deeply, wiping my face with trembling hands. "I know," I whisper, my voice raw. "But it feels like I’ve lost everything again, Evans. First my parents, and now Anna. She’s... she’s all I have left.”Evans leans forward, his tone softening. "Then we fight. You’re Damien Donovan, damn it. You don’
ANNAThe cold air bites at my cheeks as I step out of the terminal at JFK Airport, clutching my suitcase. The New York skyline looms in the distance, a strange mixture of awe and dread settling over me. Ian’s text with his address burns in my mind. My hands tremble slightly as I hail a cab.Was this the right decision?Doubt claws at me, but I shove it aside. Damien doesn’t care. He hasn’t cared for a long time or so I tell myself. The memory of his angry eyes last night twists something deep in my chest, but I force myself to breathe. This is about me now. About starting over.The cab ride feels endless, and when it finally pulls up to a towering building, my stomach churns. Nicholas’s directions lead me to a penthouse suite, the opulence of the place making me hesitate for a moment before knocking.The door swings open almost immediately, and there he is Nicholas, looking as polished as ever in a tailored suit, his dark eyes sharp and calculating."Anna," he greets, his lips curlin
DAMIENThe moment I read Anna’s message, my entire world shifts."Don’t bother coming home tonight. I won’t be here when you do."The words burn in my mind as I grab my car keys and race out of the office. Every mile I drive feels like a lifetime, the thought of her leaving consuming me. She can’t leave. Not like this. Not without me setting things right.My tyres screech as I pull into the driveway, the house eerily silent. The lights are on, but the emptiness screams louder than words. I storm inside, calling out her name."Anna!"No answer.I head upstairs, my chest tightening as I push open the bedroom door. The sight stops me cold. Her side of the closet is half-empty, drawers open and rifled through. A suitcase is gone. My heart pounds.She’s gone."Miss Rosie!" I bellow, my voice echoing through the halls.My appears at the bottom of the stairs, her face pinched with worry. "Damien, what’s wrong?"I take the steps two at a time, reaching her in seconds. "Where is she? Where’s A
ANNAI pace the living room, phone pressed tightly to my ear, waiting for Lola to pick up. My hands are trembling, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something I can’t quite name boiling inside me. After what feels like an eternity, her familiar voice answers."Hey, girl! What’s up?"Lola’s voice is light and casual, but I can’t match her tone."Lola," I say, my voice strained, "I need to talk to you."Her tone shifts immediately. "What’s wrong? Did something happen with Damien?"I sink into the couch, pulling a blanket over my lap. "Everything. Everything is wrong, Lola. We argued last night, and it was bad. He’s distant, I’m distant it’s like we’re tearing each other apart."I pour everything out, my words tumbling over each other in a rush. I tell her about the fight, about Nicholas, and how Damien discovered the messages. I even admit to avoiding Damien due to her advice on being distant from him. By the time I finish, I’m out of breath, my throat tight from holding back tears.L
ANNAThe room feels suffocatingly empty. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, tears sliding silently down my cheeks. The weight of my argument with Damien presses on my chest like a boulder, making breathing hard.How did we get here? One moment, we’re building something fragile yet hopeful; the next, it’s all crumbling beneath our feet.I glance at the door, hoping against hope that he’ll walk in and say something anything to bridge the widening chasm between us. But the house is eerily quiet.When the clock strikes midnight and there’s still no sign of Damien, the pain in my chest intensifies. He’s always been composed, never one to let his emotions get the better of him, but tonight, he was raw, unfiltered. The anger in his eyes, the hurt in his voice it’s all on replay in my mind.I pull the covers up to my chin, curling into myself as the tears come faster now, sobs shaking my body. The truth of it all stings: I messed up. I avoided him, and let Nicholas’s messages fill a void I
DAMIEN Tonight, I’ve had enough. As I walk into the bedroom, I see her sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone. My chest tightens. Her phone. Again.“Anna,” I say, my voice low but firm.She looks up, startled. “What?”“We need to talk.”Her expression hardens immediately, and she puts her phone down on the nightstand. “About what?”“You know damn well what.”She crosses her arms, her defensiveness a barrier I know all too well. “If this is about me not talking to you much lately, maybe you should look in the mirror first.”That sparks something in me a simmering anger I’ve been trying to suppress for days. “Oh, so this is my fault now?”“Well, you’ve been distant, Damien! You come home late, barely say a word to me, and act like I don’t even exist. What do you expect me to do?”I take a step closer, my voice rising. “Don’t you dare put this on me? You’ve been avoiding me first! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you shutting me out, glued to your phone like it’s the only thing th
DAMIENThe tension in the house is thick enough to choke on. Anna and I move around each other like ghosts, existing in the same space but never really crossing paths. She barely looks at me, her silence a sharp blade that cuts deeper with every passing hour. I tell myself to give her time, but patience has never been my strong suit.It’s late evening when I walk into the living room and find her curled up on the couch, her phone glued to her hand. She doesn’t glance up when I enter, her fingers flying across the screen. I wonder who she’s texting so eagerly, but I push the thought aside. I don’t want to be the paranoid husband.“Anna,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.“Hmm?” she murmurs, not looking up.“I’m ordering dinner. Do you want anything?”“I’m fine,” she replies, her tone clipped.I nod, even though she doesn’t see it, and walk into the kitchen. The tension is unbearable, and I feel like I’m suffocating in my own home. I’ve tried to bridge the gap between us, but ever
ANNADamien comes down the stairs, his steps steady and deliberate. I’m sitting at the dining table, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. He stops in the doorway, his presence filling the room even before he speaks.“Morning,” he says, his voice soft but edged with something I can’t quite place.I glance up briefly and mutter, “Morning,” before returning my attention to the screen.“Any plans for today?” he asks, trying to sound casual.“Not really,” I reply, my tone clipped.He pauses as if waiting for me to say more, but when I don’t, he pulls out a chair and sits across from me.“Anna,” he says after a moment, leaning forward slightly. “What’s going on?”I don’t answer right away, pretending to be engrossed in my phone.“Don’t do this,” he says, his voice firmer now. “If something’s bothering you, just tell me.”I sigh, finally looking up at him. His eyes are searching mine, filled with an earnestness that makes me uncomfortable. “It’s nothing, Damien. I just need some space.”“Sp