Chapter 76: The Devil Is Not A Gentlemen
The door to the emergency stairwell clicked shut, instantly muffling the dull hum of the marketing floor.
Ana stood on the concrete landing, her back pressed against the cool wall as Marcus paced a small, agitated circle before stopping directly in front of her. The harsh fluorescent light overhead cast sharp shadows across his tired, pained features.
"Marcus..." Ana started softly, her voice filled with exhaustion. "You shouldn’t be seen down here with me. If Damian’s people..."
"I don’t care about his people right now, Ana," Marcus interrupted, his baritone rough with suppressed emotion. He ran a heavy hand through his dark hair, looking down at her with a raw, protective sadness that made her throat tighten.
"I didn’t bring you here to judge you," Marcus said softly, his dark eyes searching hers. "I never believed a single word that came out of Vivian’s mouth yesterday. I know who you are, Ana. I know your heart."
Ana swallowed hard, her chest aching.
"What tore me apart..." Marcus continued, his voice dropping into a quiet, painful whisper, "...was listening to that monster stand in front of the entire office and mock your loss. To hear her weaponize your miscarriage... and throw how Damian treats you in your face."
Tears pricked the corners of Ana’s eyes, but she forced them back, shaking her head.
"Vivian lied, Marcus," Ana said firmly, her voice trembling slightly as she defended the truth. "Damian and Vivian were never together like that. It was all a twisted game she constructed to hurt me."
Marcus looked at her for a long, heavy moment. He didn’t argue.
He didn’t call her naive. He simply let out a slow, heavy breath.
"It’s not my place to comment on his past, Ana," Marcus murmured, taking a subtle step closer, his expression deeply troubled. "If he says she lied, fine. But let me ask you something... do you really believe him?"
Ana froze, her breath catching in her chest.
"Look at what happened today," Marcus pressed softly, his eyes filled with a desperate, quiet urgency. "Look at the war going on outside those doors. Damian Sterling is a man with a target on his back every single second of his life. He has ruthless enemies who will stop at nothing to tear him down... and they will always, always use you to get to him."
He reached out, his fingers hesitating in the air before resting gently on her shoulder.
"Is this really the life you want, Ana?" Marcus asked, his voice laced with heartbreak. "A life where your deepest wounds are broadcasted to the world? A life where you are constantly surrounded by bodyguards, threats, and collateral damage?"
Ana stared up at him, her mind spinning as his words pierced straight through her defenses.
He was voicing every single terror that had kept her awake in the penthouse... the reality that being tied to Damian meant living inside a beautiful, gilded warzone.
Before she could open her mouth to answer, the heavy steel door of the stairwell yielded with a slow, ominous creak.
A dark, towering shadow spilled across the concrete floor.
Damian stood in the doorway, impeccably tailored, his obsidian eyes completely devoid of warmth as his lethal gaze slid from Marcus’s hand on Ana’s shoulder... straight up to Marcus’s face.
Damian stepped into the stairwell with a terrifying, calm, his presence instantly shrinking the space between them. His obsidian eyes dropped down to Marcus’s hand on Ana’s shoulder.
The air in the stairwell turned to pure ice.
Marcus slowly withdrew his hand, stepping back slightly out of respect for Ana, though he didn’t lower his head. He knew his place as a colleague, and he knew Ana was tied to Damian... but he refused to cower like a guilty man.
"Mr. Sterling," Marcus acknowledged, his voice tight but steady.
Damian ignored Marcus completely, treating him as though he were nothing more than a ghost. His focus locked entirely onto Ana, his gaze dark, heavy, and dangerous.
"Anastasia," Damian spoke, his baritone dropping into a low, smooth command that echoed off the concrete walls. "My car is waiting downstairs. You are coming with me."
Ana’s chest tightened, her pulse hammering against her ribs. She looked at Marcus’s tense, worried expression, then back at Damian’s unyielding silhouette.
"Damian, we were just talking about..."
"I don’t care what you were talking about," Damian interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, terrifyingly soft yet sharp. He took two heavy steps forward, his broad frame completely blocking Marcus from her view.
He leaned down slightly, his dark eyes burning into hers. "You defied my order when you ran after Clara. Do not test my patience a second time today."
Marcus took a subtle step forward, unable to stand by while Damian hovered over her so aggressively. "Mr. Sterling, she’s exhausted. She’s been through hell today, and..."
Damian whipped his head around, his eyes flashing with black ice as he turned his full, suffocating aura onto Marcus.
"Do not speak to me, Marcus," Damian purred dangerously, the lethal edge in his voice cutting through the stairwell like steel. "You are an employee in my building. The only reason your career still exists in this city is because Anastasia asked me to spare it. Remember your place."
Marcus’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek, his fists balling tightly at his sides. He knew Damian had the power to crush him with a single phone call, but the quiet, venomous warning hit like an absolute threat.
Ana quickly stepped between them, placing a small, trembling hand flat against Damian’s dark suit coat to keep him from escalating further.
"Damian, please," Ana whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "I’m coming with you. Just... stop."
Damian looked down at her small hand resting on his chest. The lethal tension in his posture didn’t melt, but his jaw set firmly.
Without another word to Marcus, Damian wrapped his large, warm fingers around Ana’s wrist, turning on his heel and pulling her out of the stairwell with an iron, unyielding grip.
Marcus stood alone on the concrete landing, watching the heavy steel door swing shut behind them, leaving him in the suffocating silence of the stairwell.
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Damian pulled her straight into his private, VIP elevator. The doors slid shut with a heavy, silent hiss, isolating them completely from the rest of the world as the cabin began its swift descent to the underground garage.
The moment they were alone, the atmosphere turned electric.
Damian slammed his palm against the emergency stop button. The elevator lurched, grinding to a sudden halt between floors, the dim blue ambient lighting illuminating the lethal, dark shadow of his face.
He whipped around, towering over her, his broad frame backing her straight against the mirrored glass wall.
"You defied me in front of Clara," Damian growled, his voice dropping into a dangerous, possessive purr that rattled the small cabin. "You ran out of my office when I commanded you to stay. And then I find you tucked away in a stairwell with him, letting him put his hands on you?"
Ana’s chest heaved, her own anger snapping after being pushed, controlled, and dragged around all day. She didn’t shrink back. She raised her chin, her eyes flashing with hot, indignant tears.
"I went after Clara because she was terrified, Damian!"
Ana shouted, her voice echoing off the glass.
"And Marcus was only asking if I was okay! You act like a dictator! Because of the way you treat me... because of your possessive, ruthless behavior... people are coming up to me every single day, telling me that you are not the right man for me!"
Damian went deathly still.
His obsidian eyes narrowed into slits, a terrifying, aura radiating off him as he leaned down until his lips were inches from hers, trapping her completely between his arms.
"Give me names," Damian demanded, his baritone a lethal, quiet whisper. "Who is filling this garbage into your head, Anastasia? Tell me."
"No!" Ana cried, pushing against his rock-hard chest, her voice breaking with raw frustration. "I’m not giving you anyone to destroy! Why can’t you just act like a gentleman for once in your life, Damian?! That is all I want from you!"
Damian stared down at her trembling lips, his jaw tightening so hard a muscle throbbed in his cheek.
He reached up, his long fingers wrapping possessively around the back of her neck, tilting her head up as his dark eyes burned into hers with absolute, unyielding dominance.
"A gentleman would let you walk away, sweet angel," Damian whispered darkly, his thumb pressing against her jaw as his shadow completely consumed her. "And I am never, ever letting you go."