Jealous much, Damien?

Chapter 7:

ROSALINE'S POV~

Damien's eyes were blazing with rage as he took slow, deliberate steps towards me, his finger pointed accusingly in my direction. 

"Shameless whore," he spat, venom in his voice. "You move on like I never existed. How dare you? How could you just forget about me, after all we've been through?"

He paused, staring at me with utter contempt. "Did you miss me at all, or were you too busy sleeping around to notice I was gone?"

I wanted to claw his eyes out. My nostrils flared, my fists clenched at my sides.

Ezra stepped forward, shielding me with his body. "That's enough, Damien," he said, a warning in his tone.

But I wasn't about to let him speak for me. I reached out, grabbing Ezra's arm and giving it a sharp tug. He hesitated for a moment, before stepping back, letting me take the lead.

My mouth curled into a wicked grin as I locked eyes with Damien, folding my arms across my chest. I was no longer afraid of his words or his anger. I was fueled by it, empowered by it.

"Jealous much, Damien?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you missed me so much, why didn't you bother to call? Or did you think that disappearing without a word was a better strategy?”

I glared at Damien, trying to decipher the strange flicker of emotion in his eyes, my rage only continued to build. I wanted nothing more than to crush him under the heel of my boot, to make him disappear into the ether like he had with our child.

He remained silent, his jaw clenched tight, and I nodded, feigning pity.

"Oh, poor Damien," I sighed, the mockery dripping from my words like honey. "You must be so lost without me."

Slowly, deliberately, I began to approach him, my nostrils flaring as I took in his masculine scent. It was once a source of comfort, but now it made me want to gag, like a putrid stench invading my lungs.

"Hmm," I hummed, almost to myself, satisfied by the revulsion his scent aroused. "Seems like you're not quite as irresistible as you thought."

With that, I reared back and delivered a sharp slap across his face, relishing the look of shock on his face as he stumbled back, nearly falling over. “And that's for calling me a whore, you cheating bastard!" 

But Damien was nothing if not persistent, and he growled, lunging at me with murder in his eyes. Before he could reach me, however, Ezra stepped between us, shoving Damien back with a force that sent him reeling.

"You dare lay a hand on me?" Damien snarled, his body shaking with rage. "You think you can get away with that? I'll make you regret it. I'll make him regret it too.” He then pointed at me. "This bitch has forgotten what I'm capable of."

I laughed, a sound devoid of any joy or mirth.

"Oh, Damien, you deluded fool," I spat. "You have no power over me anymore. You might as well be a speck of dust on the wind. And as for your threats? Bring it on. I'm not the scared, weak little girl you married anymore. I'll destroy you before you even have a chance to blink."

With a smirk, I turned and sashayed towards Ezra, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close. His eyes darkened as I rose on the tips of my toes, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

Once I pulled away, I turned back towards Damien, my expression cold. "I hope you have a good lawyer, Damien," I purred. "Because I'm coming for you. And when I'm done with you, you'll be a pile of ashes in the wind. And I'll be richer than my wildest dreams. Consider this your final warning."

Damien's face grew redder and redder, an intense, almost unnatural shade of purple, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He was boiling over, clearly ready to explode with anger, and I imagined him crumpling to the ground in a heap, maybe even having a stroke or heart attack. It would serve him right.

But before he could unleash his fury, the reporters began to swarm, cameras flashing and guards trying to hold them back.

Ezra took charge immediately, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head for the cameras. He guided me toward the car, shielding me from the reporters and making sure I didn't bump my head as I slid into the back seat.

I watched Ezra's expression transform as he turned to face Damien, his face now hard and cold. He seemed to revel in Damien's rage, savoring it like a fine wine as he slammed the car door shut and ordered the driver to speed off.

The car peeled away from the scene, Damien's furious figure shrinking in the rearview mirror as we sped off.

~                         ~                    ~

As the car pulled up to Ezra's lavish estate, I spotted his assistant stepping out to greet us. With a respectful nod in my direction, he turned to Ezra, awaiting orders.

"Rosaline," Ezra began. "I'd like you to stay the night. We have much to discuss and there's a small matter of your new mansion. It's ready for your arrival, but we need your signature to make it official. What do you say?"

I offered him a coy smile. "I'll be happy to join you inside. Perhaps I'll stay the night, and we can finish this conversation over dinner. My mansion can wait until tomorrow."

Ezra's assistant, who I now knew was named Sebastian, gave a curt nod and disappeared into the house, presumably to alert the maids of my arrival.

Ezra and I made our way inside, settling into plush seats in the sitting room. I could feel his piercing gaze upon me as he leaned back, tilting his head slightly. My brows furrowed.

Ezra rubbed his chin and looked at me with a glint in his eye. "So, Rosaline, do you miss him?" 

I raised an eyebrow at him, feigning confusion. "Who?" I asked, trying to keep my tone level.

Ezra chuckled, but I didn't find it funny. "Damien, your ex-husband. You know, the one who seems desperate to have you back by any means necessary," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

I pursed my lips, not amused. But before I could respond, my eyes were drawn to the television, which had started playing.

My breath caught in my throat when I saw Damien on the screen, answering questions from reporters. 

My eyes dimmed, and I found myself pointing to the TV, "Can you turn up the volume?"

Ezra's brow furrowed, and I could see the concern in his eyes as he reached for the remote. The volume increased, and Damien's voice filled the room, answering the questions with a practiced ease.

 The reporters surrounded Damien, cameras flashing and questions flying. One female reporter, a redhead with a sharp gaze, stepped forward, her voice ringing out above the noise. "Mr. Damien, I think we're all wondering - is it true that you and Rosaline have been separated for years, and you kept this information from the media?"

Damien let out a heavy sigh, his eyes lowered as though in deep contemplation. He faced the camera, his voice taking on a grave tone.

"I've always kept my personal affairs private, but this situation...this situation is too important to ignore." Damien paused, his face contorting in an expression of sadness and concern. "Rosaline, my dear wife, left me without warning, without any explanation. One day, I woke up to find divorce papers on my pillow and my wife gone. Just gone. Three years later, and I still haven't heard from her."

He shook his head, his gaze shifting from the camera to the reporters, as though appealing directly to their humanity. "I am a broken man, and I want my wife back. I don't care about my reputation. I don't care about what people think. All I care about is Rosaline. I love her, and I know she loves me. I know she's out there, somewhere, with some other man, doing God knows what. And I just want her to come home, where she belongs."

Damien's words hung in the air like a poisonous mist, his manipulative charisma palpable even through the television screen. The reporters shifted uncomfortably, their faces morphing into one of pity. But Damien wasn't done yet.

"And Rosaline, if you're watching this, if you can hear me, I want you to know that I forgive you. I know you've made mistakes, that you've been with other men, that you've done things you regret. But I'm here for you. I love you, and I want you to come home. I want to show the world how much I love you, how much I want to make things right."

I clenched my fists, rage boiling up inside me as I watched Damien on the screen.

I wanted to scream at him, to throw something at the television, to make him pay for his lies and his manipulation. 

A second reporter decided to add her two cents. "Mr. Damien, have you ever been violent to Rosaline? Have you ever cheated on her? And why would a woman who has everything in the world, admired by many young women, wake up one day and flee? What's going on in your relationship, really?"

Everywhere fell silent and all eyes were on Damien.

My jaw clenched, waiting for Damien's response. I knew exactly what was going to happen next, I'd seen it a million times before. 

Damien chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a dark, calculating light. He stared deep into the reporter's eyes, letting her know that she had crossed a line that should never have been crossed. She was in deep trouble, and she knew it.