Chapter 6

Author's POV

Two weeks had passed since Brenda became the wife of a man who despised her. Every day was harder than the last, with her life confined by Damian’s strict rules. Locked in her room for hours on end, she lived in fear, trying desperately to behave in a way that would spare others from his wrath. The guilt from that first day, when the security guards were fired because of her, lingered. It felt as though the well-being of everyone in the mansion now rested solely on her shoulders.

Since the day Damian had left her to collapse in the cage room, she had learned to obey every one of his rules. She couldn’t risk making a mistake. That experience had been enough to instill terror in her soul, and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Over time, she had thought she had grown numb to the pain, to the oppressive fear in his presence, and even to the murderous glares he gave her. But every time the reality of her situation hit her afresh, her chest tightened, and a familiar ache gripped her heart.

A thought lingered in her mind. if her mother had been alive, would her life be different? Of course, it would. No mother would allow her daughter to suffer like this. If only she hadn’t insisted on going on that trip, her mother would still be alive, and she wouldn’t be trapped in this nightmare. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sat on the edge of her bed, consumed by regret and rage.

She stood and began to undress, with the hope that a cold shower might offer some comfort to the emotions brewing inside her. As she reached for her towel, the door suddenly swung open. Brenda froze in place, stark naked, her body revealed to the unwelcome intruder.

Damian.

For a moment, he stood there, his breath catching. His eyes, cold and calculating, now softened with something unrecognizable as they roamed over her. Brenda’s curves, which had always been hidden beneath modest clothing, were on full display, and it was enough to make his composure slip. His heartbeat thundered in his chest. He had always known she was beautiful, but this… this was beyond his imagination.

Brenda’s cheeks flushed red as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Get out,” her eyes screamed, but her throat tightened, unable to find the words. She hated the way his gaze lingered, full of a lust she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Damian blinked, regaining control of himself. He staggered back, slamming the door shut behind him. In the hallway, he leaned against the wall, his breathing uneven as he battled different emotions crushing down on him.

“Damn it,” he murmured, under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The image of her naked body drift into his mind, her beauty searing through his carefully constructed walls. A cold realization crept in—Brenda was getting to him.

Frustration swelled in his chest as he forced himself to regain control. With a hardened expression, he knocked sharply on her door. “Are you dressed?”

Brenda’s voice was barely audible. “Yes.”

Damian stepped inside, throwing a shopping bag onto the bed without meeting her gaze. “Wear this. Tomorrow at 7 p.m., be downstairs. There’s a dinner, and you will act properly as my wife.” His voice was sharp, cold and he turned on his heel before she could respond.

At exactly 6:30 p.m., The next evening, Damian stood at the foot of the grand staircase. The sound of heels clicking against marble drew his attention. He glanced up—and his breath caught.

Brenda descended gracefully, her red dress hugging every curve, the high slit revealing just enough to leave him captivated. Her black hair flowed over her shoulders, and her soft makeup only complimented her natural beauty. But her face was a blank, devoid of the happiness her appearance might have suggested.

Damian’s heart betrayed by skipping a beat. For a fleeting moment, he couldn’t take his eyes away. But then he forced himself to look elsewhere and he strode outside to the waiting car.

At the event, a private gathering of influential and dangerous men, Brenda sat quietly in the corner. Damian, ever the commanding presence, took center stage, addressing the room with ease. Brenda couldn’t help but notice the way everyone deferred to him, their respect and fear evident. The hushed conversations around her, punctuated by cold glances in her direction, made her uneasy. She wondered why Damian had even brought her here. She didn’t belong in this world.

She was jolted back to reality by a man approaching her. His movements were unsteady, and the alcohol on his breath was evident.

“Hello, beautiful,” he slurred, collapsing onto the couch beside her.

Brenda hesitated but offered a polite smile. “Hello.” She shifted slightly, putting some space between them.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice softer now.

For a brief moment, Brenda’s spirits lifted. It had been so long since someone had spoken to her kindly, let alone complimented her. They began to talk, and for a short while, she forgot her situation.

But the moment didn’t last. From across the room, Damian spotted her. His jaw tightened, and his strides were quick and deliberate as he approached.

“Oh, look who’s flirting with my wife,” Damian sneered, his voice low and venomous.

The man’s face paled with fear. “I-I didn’t know—”

“Take him outside,” Damian ordered, signaling to his men. “Make sure he remembers never to go near what’s mine again.”

The man was dragged away, his pleading falling on deaf ears. Brenda’s heart raced as she watched, terror engraved on her face.

Damian turned his glare on her, disgust and fury in his eyes. “For this stunt, I’ll make sure you’re punished,” he spat. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Back at the mansion, the tension was suffocating. Brenda followed Damian inside, her head bowed and her hands trembling. She didn’t know what punishment awaited her, but the thought of the cage room sent a cold dread through her.

In her room, Damian’s voice was sharp and commanding. “Strip.”

“What?” Brenda’s voice trembled.

“You heard me. I won’t send you to the cage room this time. But this is your punishment. I think it’s time I take what I paid for," he said coldly, stepping closer.

Her hands shook as she hesitated, but under his unyielding gaze, she began to undress, tears pricking her eyes.

Damian stepped closer, his gaze dark and unreadable. Without warning, his lips crashed against hers, a mixture of frustration and something deeper fueling the kiss. Brenda froze, her mind screaming at her to pull away, but her body refused. She clenched her fists tightly against his chest, her breath hitching as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

They fell onto the bed, lips locked in an intense kiss as their hands roamed each other.

His lips trailed down to her breast, and she gasped as he took the nipple in his mouth. Their moans filled the room, each sound stoking the fire between them.

He thrust into her.

"Ouch," she winced in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Don’t," he growled, his voice low and commanding, "ever talk to another man."

When he reached climax, Damian pulled away, his movements cold and detached. Without a word or even a glance in her direction, he dressed and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Slowly, Brenda sat up, and began to clean herself, her hands trembling. Her mind reeling as she tried to process what had just happened. It had been her first time.

The next morning, Damian was in his office when a maid entered, informing him of a guest. Irritated, he made his way to the parlor.

His steps faltered when he saw her.

Bianca.

The only woman he had ever truly loved.

She's back.