Chapter 13: The Devil’s Other Woman?
Dead silence filled the room.
Damian didn’t move. His head was still turned from the force of her hand. On his sharp jawline, a dark red mark was already burning through his skin.
Ana’s chest heaved. Her breath came in ragged, terrified gasps. The anger that had given her strength a second ago instantly vanished, leaving nothing but cold dread.
The words she had just spat... if you weren’t the father... hung in the air like a death sentence. Her hand stung from the slap. She gripped the edge of the desk just to stay upright.
Slowly, Damian turned his head to face her.
When his eyes locked onto hers, Ana’s heart stopped. The fury in his gaze was gone. Instead, his eyes were dead, cold, and entirely empty.
He didn’t yell. He simply took a single step closer, his massive frame completely blocking out the light.
"Say that again," Damian whispered. His voice was terrifyingly quiet, a low purr against her skin.
Ana pressed her back flat against the desk, trying to shrink away. There was nowhere left to hide.
Damian reached out, his large hand wrapping firmly around her throat. He didn’t squeeze to hurt, but his grip was slightly strong forcing her chin up. He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear, his hot breath sending a violent chill down her spine.
"You think I don’t deserve to be a father? Is that it?" Damian whispered, his voice dangerously low.
Ana choked up, her heart pounding against her ribs.
"Why?" Damian suddenly snarled, his face twisting with a fresh wave of fury. He leaned in closer, his grip tightening just enough to pin her in place. "Because I wasn’t born with riches? Tell me!"
Ana tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go. His voice exploded, echoing loudly against the walls of the quiet study.
"Why did you leave me, Anastasia?!" He roared, his eyes bloodshot and wild. "If you had just stayed, our baby would be alive right now! You killed my child because of your damn pride! You let my bloodline perish in secret. Did you really think I would ever forgive you for that?"
"Because you never loved me!" Ana finally screamed back, the dam breaking inside her.
Tears streamed down her face as two years of buried agony poured out. She grabbed his wrist, trying to tear his hand off her throat, her voice raw and breaking.
"I tried so hard, Damian! I spent every single day of our marriage begging for a shred of your affection! But you never cared. You never looked at me. You never tried to build a single bond with me!"
Damian froze, his chest heaving as he stared down at her.
"I was completely alone in that massive, freezing house," Ana choked out, a sob tearing through her chest. "I had no one to rely on. No one to talk to. But I still stayed! I still tried!"
She glared at him through her blurry vision, her teeth gritted as she delivered the final blow.
"But everything changed the day you brought her into our home. The exact same house I lived in! You put another woman in my face, Damian. That was the moment I broke. I couldn’t take it anymore!"
Damian stood still. The fury in his eyes instantly vanished, replaced by genuine shock. His grip on her throat loosened.
"What nonsense are you talking about?" He demanded, his voice rough. "There was no other woman."
Ana struggled violently in his hold, slapping at his chest to push him away. "Stop lying! I saw you with my own eyes, Damian!"
Tears blotted her vision, but her glare was fierce.
"It was the day right after we made love for the very first time," she choked out, her voice cracking with the memory. "I woke up thinking everything was finally going to be fine. I thought you finally wanted me."
She let out a bitter, broken laugh that sounded more like a sob.
"Instead, I walked downstairs and saw you bringing her into our house. Into my home. You shattered me, Damian. You took the one moment I felt safe with you and threw it in the trash."
Damian’s eyes narrowed as a dark, dangerous realization swept over his features. The shock faded, replaced by a slow, mocking smirk that sent a chill straight down her spine.
He didn’t explain who the woman was. Instead, he leaned in until his lips brushed her jaw, his grip tightening on her waist to lock her body against his.
"So you ran away because you were jealous," he purred, his voice dropping into a low, lethal whisper. "You destroyed my family and hid for two years because you thought another woman took your place."
"Let me go!" Ana choked out, twisting against him.
"Never," Damian growled, his hand moving up to grip her chin, forcing her to look into his dark eyes. "You want a bond, Anastasia? You want my attention? You have it. You have all of it now. I don’t care what you thought you saw. You belong to me, and you will learn your place."
He pushed her back against the desk, his massive frame pinning her bare legs down.
"The next 365 days isn’t going to be our past marriage, doll. It’s going to be your absolute surrender. Now, tell me you understand."
Ana completely collapsed under his weight. Her tears dried on her cheeks, and her hands dropped weakly to her sides. She couldn’t fight the physical exhaustion or the heavy suffocating weight of his presence anymore.
"I understand," she whispered hopelessly, closing her eyes.
Damian stared down at her for a long moment, his chest heaving. Slowly, he released his grip on her chin and stepped back, giving her space.
"Get out," he commanded coldly. "Go back to your room and be ready for tomorrow morning. Don’t make me repeat myself."
The moment his hands left her skin, Ana scrambled off the desk. She didn’t say another word. Clutching her unbuttoned silk top tightly over her chest, she bolted out of the study, the heavy doors slamming loudly behind her.
Alone in the dead silence of the study, Damian’s expression turned savage.
He walked over to the liquor cabinet, and aggressively poured himself a glass of neat whiskey. He knocked it back in one throat-burning swallow, then immediately pulled out a silver case and lit a cigarette.
He took a long, deep drag, the gray smoke curling around his sharp features.
Another woman.
Her broken words echoed in his head, twisting a knife deep in his chest. He closed his eyes, his mind racing back to the exact day she had left him. The shock of her misunderstanding was still ringing in his ears, but the cold fury inside him hadn’t died down.
Slowly, his dark, bloodshot gaze drifted over to the desk, landing on the medical documents scattered across the mahogany wood. His eyes locked onto the printout of the clinic report... the proof of the child he never got to hold.
He squeezed the whiskey glass in his hand so hard the knuckles turned stark white.
Like father, like daughter. Both were equally responsible for destroying his happy family.