Married to the man who loved me first

he man that

Lines That B

the mansion was not

my lap, but I felt their warmth against my skin. Damien's hand rested lightly on mine, almost imperceptibly, but I could feel the

, composed, flawless in every line and angle, yet something-just something-in his gaze betrayed a depth I coul

ly?" he asked suddenly,

ked. "

e faintest lift of his brows. "If you would have p

commanding rooms, lives, even empires-and yet he spoke

rely above a whisper. "Thank you

ied, calm but

ted us. Every corner, every hallway, was meticulously curated, each decoration perfectly placed, each detail a testament to Damien's precision. Yet it was h

on as the doors

id, his tone l

of his voice grounding me in

ke that again," he said. "By an

at suddenly tight. "

on," he corrected

ident words. Her assumption that she could shake me. And I

whispered.

or a heartbeat, then lifted slowly

of it, the certainty in his voice, the qui

, almost hesitantly, testing t

and then he said carefully, "I

that truly meant, but I couldn't. The w

Damien," I

d he did not follow me to my

me. I told myself repeatedly: this was temporary. Contractual. Controlled. Nothing more. And yet, my thoughts betrayed me, replaying t

nsettle Hazel. The anger that surged quietly inside him was not for himself-but for her. For the woman who had been thrust into this impossible arrangement, who had faced subtle humiliation with grace and restraint. Seven years of restraint. Seven y

s preparing breakfast, and the faint scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee

d. Uninvit

y close to the edge of the fine china. My chest constricted at her effortles

me. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked over me with a mixture of curiosity and

ning," I said cautiously, my voice almost t

Damien doesn't do permanence. He never has. Everything in his life is temporary.

I'm aware this marriage is unconventional," I said ca

n't reach her eyes. "Good. Be

et it carried an invisible weight that made the air thrum with tension. Nancy looked up, unconcerned, but her

here," Damien

tting," Nancy r

id evenly. "Which you

ty and unspoken protection, the invisible line drawn between me and her, clear and immovable. We left the

nd us, he spoke in a low v

ing. "What happens when the c

and unreadable. "That," he said carefully, voic

his silent watch. I lay in bed, unable to sleep, aware of his presence across the mansion, knowing he was observin

riage was no long

s per

as at t