​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?"

​LIORA'S POV

​"Isn't that Damien?"

​"Yes… it's him."

​"And who is that woman next to him?"

​"I thought he was engaged to Vanessa."

​Vanessa… The name hung in the air for a second, sharp and heavy. But I had no room left in my life for any more enemies.

​The whispers rose behind us, growing louder with every step.

​Damien's hand slid down to my waist, his fingers pressing firmly into my dress. "Just smile," he murmured. "Tonight decides where you will actually belong."

​"Don't worry about me," I whispered back with a smooth smile.

Worry about how you will look when this night is over.

​"Mr. Damien," a man approached with a broad, practiced smile. Damien shook his hand without letting go of my waist. "How is the construction going on Macas Road?"

​My hand tightened into a hidden fist against my dress.

Mr. Eric. He was another one of them—the kind of man who used warm smiles and fake laughter to destroy innocent people.

​“Mrs. Taylor Hale, you will have to pay for what you did!”

​“Eric... I can't believe you are involved in this too...”

​Memory flashed behind my eyes, but Damien's calm voice pulled me back to reality. "I have decided to gift that land to my wife."

​Eric narrowed his eyes, his gaze shifting to me. "She is…?"

​"Mine," Damien replied, pulling me closer against his side. His arm tightened possessively around my waist before he turned to me. "Darling, this is Mr. Eric."

​Mr. Eric forced a polite smile and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sterling."

​I looked at his outstretched hand for a beat, then smiled sweetly as I offered mine. "Nice to meet you... again, Mr. Eric."

​He chuckled, "Again...? You do look remarkably familiar."

​"Maybe," I said, smoothly retracting my hand.

​He turned back to Damien with an uneasy grin. "Mr. Damien, about Macas Road, I think—"

​"Not tonight. No business talk in front of my wife."

​Mr. Eric’s smile froze.

​Before he could speak again, the sharp clinking of a metal spoon against a champagne glass echoed across the speakers, silencing the room.

​I looked up toward the grand stage.

​Dora was walking up to the microphone, smiling brightly for the crowd. That stage… the exact same stage she had climbed onto using my father's endless connections.

​"Today, we celebrate the continued trust the public has placed in our company," Dora announced into the mic. "Unfortunately, Mr. William Sterling is away on an urgent business trip, but we have his son, Mr. Damien Sterling, here representing him. Let's welcome Mr. Damien to the stage!"

​Thunderous applause erupted through the ballroom.

​Damien turned to me, pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead, and walked toward the steps.

Dora smiled widely as she handed him the microphone, making sure her fingers brushed over his as he took it.

​"Good evening, everyone," Damien's commanding voice cut through the venue. "I want to apologize on behalf of my father for his absence... but I am here tonight to settle a few things."

​“You’re really enjoying looking at him, aren't you?” Oscar’s voice slid up behind me, slick with mock amusement.

​My hand tightened around my glass, but my eyes remained fixed on Damien speaking calmly on stage.

​“I haven’t seen you look this beautiful in all the three years we dated,” Oscar whispered, stepping uncomfortably close to my bare back. “How has life been… Mrs. Sterling?”

​I gripped my glass so tightly. I wanted nothing more than to splash the wine right into his smug face, but I couldn't create an unprompted scene here. Not yet.

​“I want to give you back what you left behind, Liora,” he murmured, dangling an object in front of my face with a smirk.

​My gaze snapped to it.

​Our couple's ring. The custom ring I had worked hard to afford just to propose to him.

​“Does Damien know I almost became your husband just a few days ago?” Oscar whispered, leaning in closer. “Does he know how you begged me to marry you?”

​I couldn't believe I had ever loved a fool like him.

​It was time to put him in his place. "Listen—"

​“...And I am truly grateful to my beloved partner,” Damien’s deep voice cut through the crowd.

​I looked up at the stage.

​"The woman who has been my strength..." Damien continued, his dark eyes locked on mine. "Liora."

​ Whispers exploded instantly.

​"What is Damien doing?!" someone near the bar gasped.

​Dora’s cheerful smile froze on stage, and color drained from Oscar’s face beside me.

​Damien is doing exactly what I need him to do, Public attention.

​I smiled back at him, and he slowly extended his hand toward me from the stage.

​My heels clicked against the marble as I glided toward him, feeling the heat of dozens of stares burning into my open back.

He took my hand, helping me up the steps. I stepped closer, pressed a soft kiss to his left cheek, then another to his right. Damien frowned slightly before his hand tightened around my waist.

​“We have gathered tonight to announce that Liora and I have decided to spend our lives together,” Damien stated calmly for the news cameras flashing in the front row. “In life, and in death.”

​The room erupted into frantic murmuring.

​“And I expect every single one of you to respect my decision,” Damien added.

​"Mr. Sterling!" a reporter’s voice cut through the noise. "Mr. Damein Is your father aware of this marriage? We were informed that he had already arranged a marriage alliance for you with—"

​"I advise you not to bring up the past," Damien interrupted.

​“Besides,” Damien added smoothly, “I wanted to surprise him... surprise him with a wife upon his return.”

​This family is getting interesting.

​"So... respect our decision," Damien concluded.

​He took my hand and led me off the stage. I smiled gracefully as we walked down, completely ignoring Dora, whose face had turned white. We stepped off the platform, his hand firm on my back, guiding me through the parted crowd.

​Glasses clinked around us as prominent guests rushed to offer their fake congratulations.

​“Congratulations, Damien,” a senior executive called out, raising a glass.

​“Thank you,” Damien replied smoothly.

​"Mr. Damien," a young assistant in a suit hurried over, leaning in to whisper into Damien's ear.

​Damien’s hand slid away from my waist. He looked at me before nodding at the assistant and followed him out.

​What is really going on in this family? Why is Damien openly going against his father?

​I picked up a glass of wine from a passing waiter's tray, slowly taking in the room. Several young socialites were glaring at me with pure hatred. My gaze shifted, and halted on Oscar who was throwing back one drink after another.

​I smirked and slowly took a sip of my wine.

​“So you really did run to him after all the drama you created,” a tiny voice sneered behind me.

​Dora stepped into my space, reaching out to snatch the glass right out of my hand.

​I tightened my grip and pulled the glass back before she could touch it. "You should learn to take only what's yours, Dora."

​She forced a smile. "Little sister... I just hope you aren't foolish enough to think you and Damien actually belong together." She took a step closer, her voice dropping. "I’m just trying to help you survive in your new home."

​I reached out and calmly straightened the crooked collar of her dress.

​"Dora..." I said gently, meeting her eyes. "You should worry about keeping your boyfriend under control before he turns into a drunk idiot, instead of stressing over my husband and me."

​"Are you still bitter because I took him from you?" She smirked, tilting her head. "Let it go, sis. Some things are meant for the right person anyway. He never loved you." She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a slow sip. "During the three whole years you dated him, he was dreaming of me. He stayed with you because he pitied you. But you were never smart enough to realize it..."

​My fingers tightened around the stem of my wineglass, and I quickly raised my hand toward her face. She flinched before steadying herself.

"Dora... keep him." I leaned into her ear. "But are you really sure your soulmate has completely forgotten about me?"

​Her smile faltered for a second.

​"Because just a few moments ago," I whispered, "he was standing right behind me, telling me how beautiful I looked..."

​"Liora!" Oscar’s slurred roar shattered the atmosphere, drawing the eyes of every guest to us.