Chapter 6

Astrid's POV

A million questions ran through my mind, a lump tightening in my throat as I stared at the woman standing before me in the kitchen. What had she just said? She was Damien's wife? But I was Damien's wife! Was he polygamous? But that wasn’t part of the agreement.

"Are you daft?" she shouted, placing her expensive Louis Vuitton bag on the kitchen counter and walking towards me. "Why am I even asking? You're a new maid, right?"

I just stared at her, not responding. I didn't come here to deal with rude, stuck-up bitches.

"As if the incompetent ones here weren't enough already, he just had to add a deaf and mute one?"

That hit a nerve, and I couldn't bite back the retort that escaped my lips. "I wish I were deaf so I wouldn't have to hear your voice."

Her face grew red, and she stormed towards me as though ready to strike. "Oh my gosh, what is that disgusting smell?"

The corn was beginning to boil, so the aroma was quickly filling the room. While it felt enticing to my nostrils, the lady gagged as if a horrible stench had met her nose. "What are you cooking? Are you trying to poison us in this house?"

She lived here? But I'd been here for two days and hadn’t seen her.

She walked towards the pot. "Corn? Oh my goodness. Since when did Damien start eating this? This is disgusting."

My lips curled into a frown at her words. My food wasn’t disgusting. And who didn’t like corn?

"Excuse me, miss, this is my food, and it isn’t disgusting. If you don't like it—"

"Your food? Who gave you permission to cook in my kitchen?"

Before I could blink, she picked up a rag, opened the pot, and dumped all the contents onto the floor. I jumped back, barely avoiding the jarring hot water from burning my legs.

I stared at her, dumbfounded, then shifted my gaze to the corn grains on the floor. My heart clenched. That was my food. Something so rare and so sweet. My craved food that Damien had gotten for me, and she had just thrown it away.

"Why would you do that? Are you normal?" I snapped at her, my hands balling into fists by my sides.

Her lips curved into a menacing smirk. "Do what? Throw away trashy food to prevent it from ruining my kitchen? You have some nerve asking me that, young lady. I've been talking to you, and you behaved like I didn’t exist. You expect me to just—"

I looked at the food on the floor once again, feeling my heart twist. My grandma had raised me to waste no food. Now this lady had just thrown away all my food. I closed my eyes, struggling to keep myself from doing something I'd end up regretting.

"Hey, stupid girl! I am talking to you!" she screamed in my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I jumped, startled, and stumbled backward, my feet slipping on the wet floor. I reached out, trying to grasp anything to break my fall.

My hands wrapped around a soft fabric, and I pulled it, but instead of stopping my fall, it followed me. Both of us crashed to the floor, landing in the water with a splat.

The hot liquid seeped through my clothes, sending a searing pain up my back. I let out a scream, struggling to move, but she pressed on me, letting me linger in the hot water.

Just then, a voice growled, "What the hell is going on here?"

We both turned, wide-eyed, to see Damien standing, his gaze darkening as he stared at us. His eyes moved from me to Selena and to the mess on the floor.

Without wasting time, the woman jumped up, rushing toward Damien and throwing her arms around him. I think I saw him stiffen, or maybe it was just my imagination.

"Selena? What happened?" Damien demanded, his voice and eyes softer than I'd ever seen in my three days of knowing him.

Okay, so, his wife's name was Selena.

As Damien and Selena stood there, I forgot about the pain in my back. The only thing I could focus on was the perfect couple before me. They looked like they were going for a photoshoot, while I, in my very casual attire, looked like someone heading to the farm.

My heart clenched at the sight of them. But why? This was a marriage of convenience, and I should not forget that. Then why did it hurt seeing them in such close proximity?

"Damien..." Selena's voice shook as she cried, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I didn’t see you in the living room when I came in, so I decided to check in your office. On the way there, I saw this woman in the kitchen and decided to ask her where you were."

My brows shot up. None of this had happened, so why was she lying? "That's not—"

"I was a bit thirsty, so I just asked her to get me some water, but she was rude, and she disrespected me and threw it all over the floor."

My eyes widened, my mouth dropping open in shock. How could someone lie so effortlessly? I hadn't done that!

She continued, "I went to help her, but she slipped, and as I tried to catch her, we both fell. I think I burnt my hand."

She showed her palm to Damien. Damien held her palm in his hands, a slight hint of concern in his eyes. That was the first other emotion I had ever seen from him.

That must have meant he had feelings for his wife. As I watched Damien's fingers delicately massage Selena's hand, my stomach twisted. I didn't know why I was feeling this way. Maybe it was how he was believing her without question.

I decided to say something to expose her lies. "All that bullshit she just uttered is a big fat lie. I didn't—"

"Selena, I am sorry about this clumsy girl," he cut me off, making me narrow my eyes at him. He surely didn’t believe all that rubbish she had just spewed, right?

"Why won't you let me speak? You let her speak!" I blurted out, trying to defend myself. I wasn't going to stand around and get framed by a crazy jealous woman.

Without paying me any heed, Damien turned to her. "Let's go to the room, and I'll get someone to check on your hands."

They walked away, leaving me standing in the silence, my heart aching.

I didn’t know how long I stood there, lost in thought, but soon I felt a presence in the room. Damien stood at the doorway, staring at me intently. I held his gaze for a few seconds but soon averted my eyes to stare at the floor, unable to bear the tension in the room.

He started walking toward me, making my heart beat faster. A fiery heat was building in my chest, and I knew I wouldn't be able to control it. So once he got close, I tried to turn around and leave the kitchen, but warm, strong hands wrapped around my wrist, halting my movements.

Damien stood in front of me, his eyes lingering too long on my face. My senses heightened, and I stiffened. He gripped my shoulders, turning me to face the opposite direction.

What was he doing? I wondered, but each time I turned to look, he would tell me to stand still.

His finger trailed down my back, running lightly over my wet clothes and the burnt spot. I shivered, my breath hitching in my throat.

Then Damien leaned down, his voice a low whisper.

"Astrid, take off your shirt."