Chapter 37: The Devil’s Family Reunion
The steam in the massive marble bathroom slowly dissipated into the cool air, leaving the sound of the cascading water ringing in the heavy silence.
Damian didn’t linger. He didn’t offer a soft word, a gentle touch, or a trace of warmth to the woman shuddering in his grip.
As her trembling legs gave out beneath her, he caught her by the waist, loosely wrapped a thick plush robe around her slick, exhausted body, and carried her out into the bedroom.
He unceremoniously tossed her onto the center of the massive king bed.
Ana sank into the soft mattress, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Her eyes were heavy, her skin still burning from the ruthless heat of his hands and the humiliating memory of her own verbal surrender.
She pulled the heavy velvet duvet up to her chin, her body aching, her pride utterly shattered.
Damian stood at the foot of the bed, towel-drying his hair. His dark eyes swept over her shivering form with complete, unyielding detachment... as if she were merely a possession he had used and put back in its place.
Without a single word, he threw on a dark silk robe, stepped out of the master suite, and pulled the heavy oak door shut behind him.
The sharp click of the lock turning from the outside echoed through the silent room. He didn’t return for the rest of the night.
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Meanwhile, in the heart of the city, the heavy bass of the VIP lounge thrummed through the velvet walls.
Vivian Stark adjusted her designer blazer and glided over to the bar, sliding effortlessly onto the leather barstool next to Valerie Sterling.
"Valerie?" Vivian’s voice was dripping with polished, high-society warmth, a look of sudden, soft shock painted carefully across her face. "My God... it is you."
Valerie slowly turned her head, her pale blue eyes... so strikingly similar to Damian’s, yet softer, carrying a deep, quiet sadness... looking at Vivian. "Vivian?"
"I couldn’t believe my eyes," Vivian said softly, signaling the bartender to put Valerie’s drink on her tab. She took the seat beside her, leaning in with a look of fierce, sisterly sympathy. "When did you get back in town? I heard you were in London..."
"I came back for Dad’s memorial," Valerie replied quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her untouched glass of whiskey. "I couldn’t stay away another year."
Vivian’s expression shifted into one of deep, tragic understanding. "Oh, Valerie... Arthur was such a remarkable man. We all miss him terribly." She placed a gentle, reassuring hand over Valerie’s trembling wrist. "And how is Damian holding up? I know how heavy this week always is for him."
Valerie let out a bitter, quiet sigh. "I haven’t seen him yet. Damian... he’s been so distant ever since everything happened. Ever since he got married four years ago, he has completely shut the world out. He isolated himself, he isolated the family..."
Vivian’s eyes gleamed with a sharp, predatory spark, but her voice remained soft and poisonously sweet.
"You shouldn’t blame Damian, darling," Vivian whispered, planting the seeds of venom with practiced precision. "I’ve known your brother since his university days. He was always fiercely protective of you and your mother. But everything changed the moment she entered his life."
Valerie frowned, looking up. "Anastasia?"
"Anastasia Vance," Vivian corrected bitterly, shaking her head as if mourning a tragedy. "Her family destroyed your father, Valerie. And then she came into Damian’s life and ruined him too. She turned him cold, detached him from everyone who actually cared about him, and used his wealth to cushion her own ruined family. Even after the divorce, she dragged him back into her web. I tried so hard to be there for Damian when Arthur died... but that girl made sure no one could get close to him."
Valerie’s jaw tightened, her small hands clenching into fists over the cold bar counter. She remembered the nights two years ago... the sheer, unyielding darkness that had consumed her home, the way Damian had sealed the estate off and forbidden anyone from speaking to his wife.
To Valerie, who had been kept completely in the dark by Damian to protect her, Vivian’s cruel words sounded like the horrifying truth.
"She doesn’t deserve to step foot on Sterling ground," Valerie murmured, her voice trembling with rising anger and grief.
Vivian smiled softly, taking Valerie’s hand. "You shouldn’t have to face tomorrow alone, Valerie. Let me drive you to the estate in the morning. As a friend of the family... I’ll stand right beside you."
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The grey dawn broke over the Sterling Main Estate, bringing with it a biting cold and a heavy, overcast sky.
Ana stood in front of the full-length mirror in the master suite, her hands shaking slightly as she smoothed down the skirt of her high-collared, long-sleeved black dress. She looked pale, the dark shadows under her eyes telling the story of a sleepless night spent alone in the dark.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was suffocatingly solemn. Black floral arrangements lined the grand marble hall, and the estate staff moved in silent, synchronized harmony.
Damian stood near the arched windows of the formal drawing room. He looked lethal, imposing, and utterly untouchable in a three-piece suit.
He was holding a glass of black coffee, his expression carved from stone as Victoria stood near him in an elegant black veil.
The heavy front doors of the estate groaned open, drawing everyone’s attention to the grand foyer.
Valerie Sterling stepped into the manor, her dark coat pulled tight around her shoulders. But as Victoria stepped forward to greet her daughter, another figure stepped inside right behind Valerie... holding her arm with a supportive, affectionate grip.
Vivian Stark.
Vivian scanned the grand hall until her sharp, triumphant gaze landed directly on Anastasia standing near the staircase. A slow, poisonous smirk touched the corner of Vivian’s red lips.
Game on.
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Ana descended the grand marble staircase, her breath catching in her throat as the front doors opened. She watched the chic, dark-haired young woman step into the foyer alongside Vivian.
Victoria moved forward immediately, her usual rigid composure softening as she opened her arms.
"Valerie, my sweet girl," Victoria said softly, embracing her daughter tightly before stepping back to look at her. "I’m so glad you made it back in time for your father."
Valerie managed a pale, faint smile, her eyes heavy with grief. "I wouldn’t miss it, Mother."
Victoria turned slightly, placing a gentle hand on Valerie’s back and ushering her toward the stairs where Ana stood frozen on the lower step.
"Anastasia, come down," Victoria called out smoothly, her voice echoing in the quiet hall. "There is someone you need to meet properly. I know Damian kept you isolated from the family during your marriage four years ago, but it’s time."
Ana took a hesitant step down, her eyes locked onto the girl in the dark coat.
"Anastasia, this is Valerie," Victoria introduced, her tone light and unsuspecting. "Damian’s younger sister. She was away in London, but she’s finally home."
Valerie.
Damian’s younger sister.
The name echoed in Ana’s head like a deafening gunshot.
The room seemed to tilt beneath her feet. In a single, horrifying second, the fog in Ana’s mind cleared, and memory slammed into her with violent, unforgiving force.
Four years ago...
The night Ana had stood at the top of the stairs in their penthouse, watching Damian carry a half-conscious, weeping woman in a dark coat through the front door.
The night Ana thought her husband was cheating on her... the night she assumed he had brought another woman into their home right after sleeping with her. The night that had broken her heart and triggered the end of their marriage.
It was her.
It hadn’t been a mistress. It hadn’t been an affair.
It had been his broken, grieving little sister, drowning in the traumatic aftermath of her father’s suicide, whom Damian had been trying to shield from the world in total silence.
The entire foundation of Ana’s hatred, her bitterness, and the deep emotional scar she had carried for two long years shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.
Across the room, Damian stood motionless, his cold eyes fixed entirely on Ana. He watched the color drain completely from her face, saw her dark eyes widen in sheer horror, and watched her stagger back a step as the agonizing truth tore through her soul.
And right beside Valerie, Vivian watched the look of utter ruin break across Anastasia’s face, a slow, triumphant smirk curving her lips.