Chapter 65: The Devil Makes Everyone Bow
"He’s quite extraordinary, isn’t he?" Evelyn’s soft voice gently interrupted her thoughts.
Ana blinked, turning her head toward the older woman.
"Richard doesn’t bow to many men, my dear," Evelyn continued, looking up at the terrace with a prideful smile. "He’s spent forty years running over anyone who gets in his way. But when your husband speaks, Richard listens. Damian knows exactly how to separate weakness from strength."
Just then, the bugle blew, signaling the start of the main polo match. Guests began pouring toward the front lawn railings.
Damian descended from the VIP terrace, his long strides effortlessly cutting through the crowd. He stepped up behind Ana, his broad frame enveloping her completely. Before she could react, his heavy arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest.
Camera flashes went off along the press line, capturing the powerful CEO holding his breathtaking wife.
Damian rested his jaw lightly near her temple, his hand pressing firmly into her side. "Everything go well with Evelyn?" He murmured low, his deep voice vibrating right against her spine.
Ana leaned back into his solid heat, playing her part seamlessly for the cameras as she smiled up at him. "Yes, Damian. Everything was perfect."
"Good," Damian whispered, his dark eyes sweeping over the field as Richard Abernathy took a seat in the box behind them, giving Damian a singular, decisive nod of submission. "Then the war is almost won."
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By the time the car crossed back into the city limits that evening, the golden twilight was fading into deep violet shadows.
The exhaustion of playing the perfect high-society wife, smiling for hours, and absorbing the heavy corporate tension finally caught up with Ana.
Her head tipped sideways, gently falling onto Damian’s broad, tailored shoulder as her breathing slowed into a deep, peaceful rhythm.
Damian froze for a fraction of a second.
Looking down at her soft, sleeping face, the icy, lethal composure he wore all afternoon completely melted away. He reached up with his free hand, gently taking off her wide-brimmed hat and setting it aside.
His calloused fingers lightly stroked a stray lock of hair away from her cheek, his thumb tracing her soft lips with incredible, quiet tenderness.
He pulled her closer into his side, letting her rest against him in the dark silence of the car, guarding her sleep with absolute, unyielding possession.
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The car pulled into the private underground garage of the estate as night settled over the city. Damian carried a drowsy, exhausted Ana upstairs, placing her gently on the plush mattress of the master bedroom.
She murmured something incoherent before curling into the duvet and drifting back to sleep.
Damian adjusted the covers over her, his eyes lingering on her serene face for a long moment before he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway to his private study.
He sank into his heavy leather armchair, opening his laptop to review the final security reports regarding Vivian Stark’s proxy accounts. Just as he was drafting a directive for his legal team, his encrypted phone vibrated against the desk.
The caller ID displayed his sister’s name... Valerie.
Damian picked it up, his baritone dropping into a cold, unyielding register. "Speak."
"Damian," Valerie’s voice came through the speaker, surprisingly soft and measured. "Mother and I were hoping you and Anastasia could come over for a family dinner tomorrow evening. We want to have a proper conversation with her."
Damian’s jaw tightened. "No."
"Damian, please listen," Valerie insisted quickly before he could disconnect the call. "Mother and I want to make amends. Things were... out of line before, and we know that. We just want a quiet family dinner to clear the air."
"If this is another one of your pathetic games, Valerie," Damian warned, his voice laced with a lethal, razor-sharp edge, "it will be the absolute last time I tolerate it. If either of you tries to create a mess, I will cut off myself from the family permanently. Am I clear?"
A sharp intake of breath came from the other end. "Understood. Just bring her tomorrow."
Damian hung up without another word, tossing the phone onto his desk. A dark, contemplative scowl settled over his face as he stood up and walked out of the study to look for Ana.
Passing through the main floor, Damian followed a quiet, suspicious rustling sound leading toward the primary kitchen island.
He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest as a slow, amused smirk tugged at his lips.
Anastasia was standing in her oversized silk pyjamas, huddled near the marble counter, aggressively munching on sour cream chips like a thief in the night.
"Enjoying yourself, Anastasia?" Damian’s deep tone suddenly cut through the quiet room.
Ana practically jumped out of her skin, dropping a chip onto the counter as her head snapped around. "Damian! You scared me!"
Damian took a slow, deliberate step into the kitchen, his dark eyes trailing over the countertop. "Mocking your body with junk instead of eating actual food? You look like a street raccoon raiding a pantry."
Ana glared at him, her cheeks flushing pink. "I was having cravings, okay? It’s midnight!"
Damian raised a single dark eyebrow, taking another step forward to peek behind her frame. Sitting on the counter, desperately hidden behind her back, were five other opened packets of chips, sour gummies, and half-empty containers of chocolate cookies.
"Cravings?" Damian purred low, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. "Or a full-blown binge?"
Ana quickly tried to block his view with her body, crossing her arms defensively. "It’s fine! I’m almost done anyway!"
Damian’s playful amusement subtly shifted, his expression turning serious as he remembered the call from his study. "Be prepared tomorrow evening. We are having dinner with my mother and Valerie at the main residence."
The color instantly drained from Ana’s face.
She froze, the bag of chips slipping slightly in her grip. Memories of her last encounter with his family flashed violently through her mind... the cruel accusations, the humiliation, being pushed into the freezing pool, and the sharp, venomous names Valerie and his mother had spat at her.
The sheer anxiety made her stomach twist into a tight knot. She was not thrilled in the slightest to step back into that snake pit.
Damian watched her closely, reading every ounce of fear and hesitation swirling in her dark eyes.
He stepped directly into her personal space, his tall frame cutting off her escape. Reaching out, his large, warm hand cupped her chin, gently tilting her face up until her anxious gaze was forced to meet his unyielding obsidian eyes.
He leaned down and pressed a slow, firm kiss directly onto her trembling lips, stealing the cold fear right out of her chest.
When he pulled back, his thumb stroked her jawline with a firm, possessive pressure. "If you get cornered," Damian whispered against her lips, his voice dropping into a dark, non-negotiable command, "you come running straight to me. Do you understand me?"
Ana swallowed hard, looking into his steady, intense eyes, and gave a quiet, hesitant nod.
"Good," Damian murmured, his gaze dropping to the scattered snacks behind her. "Now stop eating this garbage or I’ll throw every bag in the trash. I don’t need an unhealthy slave serving me."
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen, his heavy footsteps fading down the corridor.
Ana stood frozen by the counter, holding her breath as her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. She stared at the empty doorway, thoroughly confused by his hot-and-cold behavior.
One moment, he showed a fierce, protective warmth that made her feel safe... and the very next, his cold, possessive true colors snapped back, reminding her exactly where she stood in his world.