LIORA'S POV

I stared at the vibrating phone, my hand squeezing it tightly. Everything around me went quiet.

Buzz. Buzz.

It rang again. Without checking the screen, I switched it off. I didn't care who was calling. I wasn't going to just sit around anymore.

***

"Liora, it was sold to them by a relative," the lawyer said, adjusting his glasses with a tired sigh.

"What?" My voice cracked, disbelief turning into pure fury. "It was registered in my name!"

"He's your father. And these are the Sterlings."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I snapped. "That I should just sit around while my property is stolen from me?!"

"I know you're angry, but even if the signatures were forged... you can't do anything."

"I will take it to court! Even if it means my father has to pay!"

"Taking it to court won't help you..." He leaned closer to me, lowering his voice. "No lawyer will touch this case. No judge will support you, because this is the Sterling family we are talking about. You are trying to fight a war you can't win... Even I can't help you."

I let out a bitter chuckle. It was happening all over again. The exact same way everyone had abandoned my mother.

"Liora, you're still too young to face them. They play a completely different game... Let it go. It was your father's decision."

Too young? I looked at him in silence, noticing the faint tremor of fear in his eyes. He was terrified. He wasn't going to help me.

Suddenly, the television mounted on the wall flickered on.

William Sterling filled the screen, wearing that same venomous, perfect smile he wore ten years ago when he destroyed my mother.

My hand tightened around the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned white.

"That is the head of the family you want to fight," the lawyer whispered, his voice trembling.

"Hello, everyone," Mr. William Sterling said warmly to the camera, his polished voice smoothly filling the office. "I’m truly grateful for your continued trust and support."

“Liora, don't go near them! Run away from them!” my mother's memory echoed in my head. My nails dug deeper into the wood of the desk.

"Your trust gives the Sterling Empire the strength to deliver excellence in every project," William continued on screen. Every word sounded dipped in poison. "Because a better home builds a stronger family. I want every person to live in a place that nurtures love, peace, and beautiful memories.”

Beautiful memories? The man who ruined innocent families was now selling fairytale dreams to the public.

I stood up abruptly from my chair. "I will handle this myself since you're too cowardly to help me," I said, grabbing my folder and my umbrella.

"Liora!" the lawyer called out nervously.

I paused at the door, but didn't turn around.

“...And I have even greater news to share with all of you who have placed your faith in us,” William’s booming voice continued from the broadcast.

"Please be careful," the lawyer urged. "I strongly advise you to let this go!"

“Construction has officially begun on our newest flagship estate,” William announced proudly.

My blood froze instantly as the news camera cut to a live feed of Macas Road—my mother's building.

Bulldozers were tearing through the mud like iron monsters. Demolition workers were hurling furniture and personal mementos out into the pouring rain—her things. My things.

No... No, no, no!

“In the next three to four weeks,” William declared with a wide smile, “a new, beautiful community will rise on Macas Road.”

I turned and stormed out into the rain.

“Liora!” the lawyer yelled, standing up quickly, but I was already running—leaving behind my bag, my documents, and whatever pride I had left.

The rain lashed my face like icy whips, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning inside me.

"Macas Road! Faster, please!" I begged the taxi driver, my voice shattering.

The drive was pure torture. As the car got stuck in traffic, my knee bounced uncontrollably.

“I’m going to catch you!” my mother’s memory echoed softly, her laughing voice chasing me around our old living room.

“Mum!” I laughed, running away from her on little legs.

"Stop right here!" I yelled at the driver, pushing the car door open before he even came to a complete stop.

My knees nearly buckled. My mother's building looked like a slaughterhouse. Bulldozers roared while workers carelessly tossed her belongings into deep mud puddles like garbage. Books were drowning. Clothes lay trampled. My mother's precious vinyl records were scattered across the gravel, their covers ripped to shreds.

I looked up at the front entrance; the door was hanging off its hinges like a gaping wound.

"Throw everything out! Don't leave a single item!" a heavy-set man in an expensive suit barked near the entrance. "Demolition begins tomorrow morning!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I screamed, sprinting toward him.

He picked up the last framed photograph of my mother and tossed it over his shoulder.

Splash.

It hit a murky puddle, the glass shattering instantly.

I stared down at the ruined photo, my chest heaving. "I asked you what the hell you are doing?!" I snapped.

Charging through the mud, I grabbed him by his tie and yanked him down to my eye level. "Who gave you permission to touch my things?!"

"Who the hell are you?!" he shouted, shocked. "Get your hands off—"

"Call your boss out right now!" I demanded.

"Get your hands—" He tried to shove me away hard.

"I will cut off those hands if you lay a finger on my woman."

A deep, lethal voice pierced straight through the sound of the pouring rain.

My body went completely rigid.

Even in my worst nightmares, I would recognize that voice anywhere.

I turned quickly, and the site manager scrambled backward, disappearing into the crowd of workers.

Damien Sterling was standing in the pouring rain—tall, broad-shouldered, and dangerously serene. His tailored black suit clung to his powerful frame like a second skin, the rain tracing sharp lines down his jaw and neck.

His dark eyes were locked onto mine.

"Liora Hale..." he murmured smoothly. His gaze traveled slowly over my drenched body—taking in my trembling hands, my heaving chest, before rising back to my face. "Look at yourself."

He took a slow step closer, using one hand to loosen his tie slightly while my fingers dug painfully into my palms.

"Soaked. Furious. Standing in the middle of a storm," he said, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Exactly where I wanted you."

"You did this," I whispered through gritted teeth, consumed by rage. "You're erasing the last piece I have left of her."

Damien tilted his head slightly, rainwater sliding down his throat. "I warned you to come to the mansion last night, didn't I, Liora?"

He reached out and gently brushed a wet strand of hair away from his face. "But you ran away... Now look at where that got you."

A wild surge of anger exploded inside me.

His bodyguards moved instantly to intercept me, but Damien raised a single hand, stopping them dead in their tracks.

I closed the distance in three furious strides, grabbed his tie, and yanked him down hard until his face was just inches from mine.

“How dare you,” I snarled.

The entire construction site fell dead silent. The roaring bulldozers, the shouting workers—everything seemed to fade into nothingness.

"How fucking dare you!" I spat, rain dripping down our faces.

Damien didn't flinch. Instead, a slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips as his eyes dropped to my hand tightly gripping his tie.

“Ms. Liora Hale,” he purred, his voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper. “Take your hand off my tie... unless you want this building reduced to rubble before you can even turn around.”

​LIORA'S POV

​My hand tightened around his tie for a long, suffocating second before I slowly released my grip.

​Damien straightened his spine, using his fingers to brush off his tie before calmly tightening it against his collar.

​"We have a company gala tomorrow night," he ordered softly. "You will appear as my wife."

​"What makes you think I would—"

​"You will," he interrupted, bending down slightly until his eyes were level with mine. "Because you have no other choice." His dark eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity. "I'll make sure of it."

​He glanced over my shoulder at the decaying building behind me before looking back into my eyes. "I'm the only one who can save what little remains of your life."

​"Why are you doing this?" I demanded, taking a furious step closer. "Why?! Why do you think you can push people around and expect them to bow and obey you just because you're the devil?!"

​"Tomorrow night,” he whispered, his dark eyes fixed entirely on mine. "Meet me at my house."

​He pressed an elegant black card into my palm, turned on his heel, and began walking away.

​Would everything end if I picked up one of those broken glass bottles and stabbed him in the neck right here?

​As if reading my mind, Damien stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.

​"You can decide not to come, but you'll just be wasting your time. Because I’ll still take the building." A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face. "And eventually……you."

​He looked ahead once more. "Don't be late."

​He climbed into his sleek black SUV, shutting out the storm.

​"Your dress, Mrs. Sterling," a bodyguard said, stepping up to me out of nowhere and placing a heavy, sleek black box into my arms.

​Through the rolled-down car window, Damien's voice carried over the sound of the rain: "Postpone the demolition for now. Resume the day after the party... if anyone dares to test me."

​The SUV doors slammed shut, and the engine roared to life as the vehicle sped off. The workers quietly packed their equipment and left the site, leaving only the sound of the rain.

​My blurred eyes lifted from the retreating car to the collapsing building, then down to the ruined photograph scattered in the mud.

​I squatted down on my knees, my hands trembling as I picked up the damp picture frame. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, mixing with the rain.

​"I'm sorry," I sobbed, pressing the soaked photo against my chest. "I failed you... I'm so, so sorry."

​I dragged myself through the mud, picking up every piece of her scattered belongings that had been thrown out into the rain and dragging them back inside the house.

​“Hey, Mum... I love you so much, and I’ll protect you like a superhero!” my younger self cheered in my memory.

​My mother laughed, pulling me into a warm hug.

​“But Mum, I have a question.”

​She nodded, smiling.

​“Why do you love this apartment so much? You always come here... why?”

​“Because this place is magical, Liora.”

​“Magical?”

​“Yes... because whenever I come here, it takes all my pain away.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Whenever I’m here, I forget every heavy burden on my heart. And it holds all of your beautiful memories.”

​“Do you also forget that Dad got another daughter?”

​She nodded slowly, her eyes brimming with sadness.

​My chest tightened painfully at the memory.

​"I'm so sorry, Mum... I couldn't keep my promise," I whispered into the empty, decaying room. "The same people who put you in your grave are about to take this place away... and I can't do anything to stop them."

​Buzz. Buzz.

​My phone vibrated loudly in my pocket. I pulled it out, wiping the rain from my eyes.

​Elena.

​"Elena, I'm at—"

​"You've been fired, Liora," Elena, my colleague, blurted out before I could finish.

​For a moment, the words refused to register in my brain. "Elena, I'm really not in the mood for your jokes right now..."

​"Liora, I'm serious..."

​A notification popped up at the top of my screen, cold and unforgiving:

​Notice of Termination: Miss Liora Hale, your employment with the firm has been terminated effective immediately.

​I read the email twice, the numbness inside me giving way to a dark, simmering rage.

​"Word got out that you had personal issues with the Sterling family," Elena explained, her voice frantic. "The executives got terrified. I heard them saying you were a liability who would bring ruin to the firm."

​My grip tightened around the phone so hard the screen cracked beneath my thumb.

​"I'm so sorry, Liora... I couldn't do anything to stop them."

​"It's fine," I whispered, lowering the phone from my ear.

​Everyone is playing me. They treated my life, my feelings, and my heart like a disposable toy.

​Oscar betrayed me. Dora stabbed me in the back. My father sold me out like livestock. And the Sterlings were trying to bury my mother's memory in the mud.

​I stood up slowly, looking at the ruined apartment, and then down at the rain-soaked photo of my mother's smiling face.

​My eyes swept across the floor—past the framed photo of Oscar and me, my father's picture, and the family portrait with Dora. I stepped over them, the glass crunching beneath my shoes, and picked up only my mother's picture.

​Fresh blood dripped from my clenched fists onto the floorboards. I turned and walked out of the ruins.

​"I will destroy every single one of you," I swore to the howling storm.

***

​"Ma'am, you can't go in like that!" the receptionist at the grand estate panicked, eyeing my bloody palms and soaked clothes as she rushed to block my path.

​And I will use the devil himself to do it. He shows no mercy... and from tonight on, neither will I.

​"Open the door," I said softly, my voice devoid of any emotion.

​"Please, you have to leave! You can't see Mr. Sterling looking like—"

​"Open the damn door!" I growled, taking a threatening step forward. "I want to see my husband."

​Before the guard could argue, her desk phone rang loudly. She picked it up, listened for a fraction of a second, and slowly lowered the receiver.

​Without waiting for her, I shoved the heavy double doors open and stepped inside.

​Damien stood in the center of the dimly lit penthouse suite. He had his hands tucked into his trousers, his back turned to me as he stared out at the glittering city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling glass.

​"You're early," he remarked smoothly, his voice a low purr. "Couldn't wait for tomorrow night's party?"

​I took a slow step into the room.

​"You want me, right?" I asked boldly, my voice cutting through the quiet room. "Then take me. I'm yours."

Damien didn't answer.

He remained facing the city, one hand resting in his pocket.

The silence stretched.

Liora let out a hollow laugh.

"What?" she whispered bitterly. "Have you changed your mind already?" My fingers reached for the zipper at the back of my dress and yanked it down. The soaked, heavy fabric slid off my shoulders and hit the marble floor with a loud, wet thud.

​Still... he didn't turn around.

​"I'm yours now," I declared quietly, unhooking my lace bra and dropping it to the floor.

​I stripped away every last piece of clothing until I stood completely naked before him in the center of the room. The cool air kissed my damp skin, my body shivering as fresh blood trickled slowly down my palms from my cut hands.

​Damien’s broad Shoulders tensed. Slowly, he raised his whiskey glass to his lips.

​I took another step closer to his back. "You're wasting time for someone who was threatening me just a few hours ago."

I took another step.

"Wasn't this what you wanted."

​The glass stopped inches from his lips.

​For the first time since I met him, Damien Sterling didn't move.

​His long fingers tightened around the crystal glass. Then, slowly, he lowered the drink and set it down on the table.

​LIORA'S POV

​Slowly, Damien turned around.

​His dark gaze swept over every inch of me—lingering on my breasts, the curve of my hips, the dried blood on my hands before returning to my face.

​A slow, wicked smile curved his lips.

​"You bold thing," he murmured. "You run away from me for days... only to show up naked and bleeding in my home."

​I lifted my chin proudly, refusing to break eye contact. "You kept your promise. You left me with no other choice."

​He walked toward me slowly until he stopped inches away, his intense heat radiating against my bare skin.

​His fingers closed around my jaw—firm, yet almost gentle.

​"Fleeing for days," he whispered, studying my face, "only to surrender like this?"

​His thumb grazed my lower lip, then trailed slowly down my throat, across my chest, and halted just below my navel. My breath caught in my throat.

​"Do you think I bought you just because I want to fuck you?"

​His hand remained still against my skin.

​I searched his dark eyes. Then why do you need me, Damein?

I swallowed hard, steeling my resolve. "No matter why you need me, I'm here to make a deal with you. Destroy them. My father. Oscar. Dora. Everyone who destroyed my mother. Ruin them completely." I paused, my voice dropping to whisper. "And I will stand beside you."

​Damien studied me for a long, silent moment.

​"Revenge?" he repeated, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Interesting... I thought that word belonged to me."

​"It belongs to both of us now." I met his eyes without blinking. "I'm ready to stand beside you."

​"I knew you would be this interesting the first time I saw you," he murmured and abruptly pulled his hand away, leaving my skin feeling cold where his touch had just burned. "Get ready for what you're getting yourself into."

​His gaze lingered on me for one last second.

"Not yet," he added softly. "I don't touch poisoned offerings the moment they're handed to me. I prefer to see if they bite first."

​I exhaled slowly.

​"We still have the company gala tonight," he said calmly, adjusting his shirt cuffs as if the last few minutes hadn't just happened. "And I need you by my side as my wife."

​I will surely find out why you really need me beside you.

​Without another word, Damien turned and left the room.

​The silence that followed was heavier than the storm raging outside the window. I stood there alone, breathing heavily as I looked out at the massive Sterling billboard glowing across the skyline.

​"Mum... I will reclaim everything."

​A soft knock on the door broke the quiet. A maid walked in, her head bowed respectfully as she carried a folded set of black silk garments and a tray of hot food.

​"Mr. Sterling asked me to bring this to you, ma'am."

​I looked down at the steaming food. "I'm not hungry."

​"Please, ma'am," the woman whispered, panic lacing her voice. "He said he would fire me if you didn't eat... and I have nowhere else to go with my daughter."

​I looked at her frightened eyes, softened, and took the tray. "Thank you."

​Once she left, exhaustion finally overtook me, sinking me into a deep, restless sleep.

​The next morning, warm sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gently kissing my face.

​I blinked against the glare and bolted upright, taking in the luxurious bedroom around me. Dark silk sheets were tangled around my body, and Damien's heavy cologne lingered on the pillows.

​"Get up if you're awake," a voice drifted from the open door.

​I slowly slid out of bed and walked into the dining area. Damien was sitting shirtless at the table, wearing low-slung black trousers. The golden morning light outlined the chiseled muscles of his chest and arms, but he didn't look up from his coffee as I approached.

​I paused at the door, taking in how calm he looked after destroying so many lives. I shouldn't be surprised. That's just how his family is.

​"Stop staring and come sit down," he ordered without raising his head.

​I averted my eyes and walked over, sitting across from him.

​He pushed a plate toward me. "Eat. You're too thin. You need to gain weight before the gala."

​I glanced at the toast, then at him, before slowly picking up a piece.

​"Sign this when you're done," he said, sliding a thick file across the table.

​My heart raced as I flipped it open. It was the deed to my mother's apartment. The demolition order was stamped CANCELLED in bold black ink. Tears blurred my eyes, but my heart stopped when I read the name listed under the ownership line.

​It didn't say my father's name. It didn't say mine.

​Stamped in unyielding letters was DAMIEN STERLING.

​My fingers gripped the edge of the folder as I looked up at him. "I thought you were giving it back to me?"

​He didn't look up from his coffee cup. "It is yours."

​"But it says your name—"

​"Everything I own is yours," he interrupted, leaning back in his chair. "When you're beside me."

​He stood up and walked to the edge of the glass terrace, looking out over the glittering city below with his hands tucked into his pockets. "I might change the owner depending on how well you play your part tonight... Or I might turn it into the next Sterling flagship project."

​"Don't touch that place," I warned, my knuckles turning white as I squeezed the leather file. Then, forcing myself to stay calm, I slowly loosened my grip. "I'm not going anywhere. Besides... I have nowhere else to go."

​"We're leaving at eight sharp tonight," he added, his side profile sharp against the morning sun. "Get ready."

​With that, he walked away.

***

​I stood in front of the full-length mirror, watching the way the red silk gown clung to every curve of my body. My hand moved down to my hip, then darted to my bag on the vanity. I pulled out a small glass and slid it into my purse.

​Just as I snapped the purse shut, the bedroom door swung open.

​Damien walked in wearing a tailored black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and commanding presence. His dark eyes met mine in the mirror's reflection. I lowered my gaze, my fingers fumbling with the zipper at the back of my dress.

​He walked up behind me, his broad body blocking out the light. Slowly, his fingers grazed my bare spine as he pulled the zipper all the way up.

​"Thanks," I murmured, offering a smile.

​"Let's get going if you're ready," he said, turning around.

​"Damien," I called out, my hand wrapping around his wrist.

​He froze, his dark eyes dropping to my hand on his skin.

​I quickly pulled my hand back. "I'm sorry... I just wanted to... thank you for stopping the demolition."

​He stared down at me for a long moment before taking a slow step closer. "I did what I had to do."

​"Thank you." I smiled again.

***

​The massive glass doors of the Makadonna Sterling Hotel swung open.

​My heels clicked against the polished marble floor as I wrapped my arm tightly around Damien's elbow, forcing a radiant, graceful smile onto my face. Warm golden light spilled into the night air, illuminating the grand entrance.

​Soft jazz drifted from the ballroom, mingling with the low murmur of wealthy conversations, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses.

​As the double doors of the main ballroom were pushed open for us, the ambient noise fell dead silent.

​Heads turned instantly. Murmurs rippled through the elite crowd as eyes locked onto Damien, then shifted to me, and finally settled on my hand resting comfortably on his arm.

A sharp, hateful stare was piercing right through me from near the bar. I slowly looked over

​And then I saw them.

​Oscar.

​Standing in a tailored suit, looking every bit the pathetic liar he was.

​And right beside him was Dora.

​Their eyes locked onto mine.

​I smiled at them and slowly wrapped my second hand around Damien's arm, leaning into his side.

​Damien looked down at my hands, then followed my gaze across the room to Oscar and Dora. When they noticed Damien looking, they instantly bowed their heads.

​A dark smirk played on Damien's lips. "I hope you're ready to deliver on what you promised," he whispered near my ear.

​My fingers tightened around the glass vial inside my purse. "More than ready."

​Across the room, whispers broke out among the guests:

​"Who is that with Damien...?"

​"What happened to Vanessa?"