Chapter Forty

Past

R ejected. That’s the only word that can describe what I’m feeling as I slowly wipe the last smudge of makeup from my face. My reflection stares back at me, stripped bare—not just of the look I spent hours preparing, but of every hope I had to make things better between us tonight.

I change into the new satin nightgown and sink down onto the edge of the bed, suddenly too tired. He said he didn’t regret marrying me. Then why is he behaving like this? Did my father’s disapproval, the world’s judgment really break him? The man I married was strong, powerful... but maybe even someone like Damian has limits.

Tears sting the back of my eyes, but I swallow them down. Crying won’t change anything. It won’t make him come back or explain why he’s been so distant since yesterday. It won’t make him look at me the way I crave—like I’m worth the sacrifices, like he didn’t make the biggest mistake of his life by marrying me.

I stand and walk toward the window, my legs heavy, every step takes more strength than I have left. The night outside is dark, the kind of dark that swallows everything whole, leaving nothing but cold emptiness. I press my hand to the glass, my heart aching with the cruel reality that he’s out there somewhere, and I’m stuck here, wondering what I did wrong.

I can’t even call him. I have no phone, no way to reach him, and the humiliation of asking someone downstairs is unbearable. Earlier, when Morag brought food, I refused. Not because I wasn’t hungry, but because my heart was too heavy to eat. She left with a pitying look. Going down there now would only add to my shame.

I’m alone. Completely and utterly alone in a foreign place, surrounded by strangers.

I dressed up for him tonight, wanting him to notice me, to feel the spark of something. I wanted to be the wife he’d be proud of—the wife he’d want to stay with. But now, it feels pathetic.

My chest clenches painfully. I bite down on my lip to stop the tears from spilling over. No. I can’t break down. I tell myself he might have something important to do. That’s why he left without telling me. He’s a busy man. He’s always been driven, working harder than anyone else to get where he is today.

He’s a man with responsibilities. I knew this when I married him, didn’t I? I can’t expect him to drop everything just because I’m here now.

I’ll wait. I’ll always wait for him. We’ll have dinner together when he returns.

Wrapping the robe around me, I sit by the door in a lounge chair, watching the minutes tick by.

The seconds stretch out, each one longer than the last, making me wonder if the clock’s even moving at all.

But as the clock creeps past two in the morning, I push to my feet, my legs stiff from sitting in one position for so long. My body aches, and I wince as I stretch.

I use the bathroom, brush my teeth and disrobe before slipping under the cool sheets of the four-poster bed. The bed feels too big, too empty. I curl up on my side, staring at the door, waiting... but he doesn’t come.

At some point, sleep overtakes me, exhaustion and jetlag winning out. But even in sleep, there’s no peace. I toss and turn, caught in restless dream where I’m wandering through empty halls, calling out his name, hearing nothing but the echo of my own voice.

Then suddenly, a warm hand settles on my shoulder. I mumble something but don’t open my eyes. I give a startled cry when I’m suddenly rolled onto my back and pinned beneath a heavy weight.

My eyes snap open, heart pounding. The darkness makes it hard to see but the smell of alcohol hits me. “W-what? Who are you?”

“Your husband.” There’s no mistaking that cold, rough tone, the one I’ve been aching to hear for hours. Damian. He’s finally back.

“Where were you?” I whisper, barely able to focus with him hovering over me like this. I can feel the hard line of his body pressed against me through the thin fabric of my nightgown.

His eyes burn into me, dark and unreadable in the dimness of the room. “Out,” he mutters, his tone low, almost dismissive. His hand shifts, sliding under the hem of my nightgown, his palm hot against the cool skin of my thigh.

I jump, arousal heating my skin. “With who?” I ask, my voice shaky, trying to concentrate while his touch begins to undo me.

“Hal.” He shifts, his breath hot against my skin as he answers, his lips brushing my neck, making me shiver.

“W-was it work?” My breath hitches when his fingers inch higher, and I can’t stop the way my body shudders in response once again.

He shakes his head, his hand sliding to my waist, gripping me just tight enough to make me catch my breath.

I squirm beneath him, trying to focus, but it’s impossible with the way he’s touching me. It’s the first time he is doing it so freely. In the past, he always had this restraint, never allowing us to move past kissing. But now, he is pinning me under him and is touching me with a familiarity as if we’ve done this countless of times before. “If not work, what was it about?”

He lifts his head, his hair tousled, his eyes dark but a bit less guarded than usual. “You.”

“Me?”

I reach up and frame his face in my hand. “What about me, Damian? Please talk to—” my breath catches when he turns his face and catches my finger between his lips, biting it gently. The action startles me so much, I gape at him with wide eyes.

“You’re drunk.” I think out loud.

He releases my finger then gives a lazy nod. “I was drinking.”

“With Hal?”

He nods again, burying his head back in my neck.

“Because of me?” When there’s no response, I rake my fingers through his silky hair. “Damian?”

Abruptly, he sits up, yanking me with him. “You talk too much.”

I barely have time to catch my breath before he’s yanking my nightgown up and over my head, tossing it behind him.

Gasping, I cross my arms over my naked breasts. But he catches my hands and parts them. “I’ve been burning for you, angel.”

Still clutching my wrists, he lowers me on my back, pinning them above my head. I shudder when his shirt grazes my hard nipples.

“I’ve waited an eternity to have you. Don’t you dare hide from me now.”

I melt. Just like that “Really?”

His response is to kiss me. Passionately and hungrily. His tongue sweeps inside me with so much demand, it steals my breath away. Releasing my wrists, he cups my jaw to hold me in place while he tilts his mouth to deepen the kiss.

Then he pulls back. His hands grip my thighs, pulling me open wider as he moves between my legs. His trouser clad thighs rubbing against my inner thighs while his hard-on nestles against my wet pussy.

“You weren’t part of my plan.”

I still. “Plan?”

He claims my mouth again. This time with an edge of resentment to his kiss. As if he is punishing me. His hands are moving all over, his movements eager, starved. And impatient.

I close my eyes and soak it all in. I have been waiting for this day. This moment when Damian would finally make me his. I dreamed about this night thousands of times, my mind creating thousand different fantasies about what it would be like to be with him.

I wasn’t a part of his plan. He probably means future plans. But I am glad that I am now. I wanted Damian and I have him now. I’ve lost many things to get here. I’ve did things, went against people I love to have him. And even though I know life won’t be easy, given his workaholic nature, I’ll make do. I’ll compromise because I have the love of my life in my arms. What more can a girl dream for?

When he thrusts his hips against my core, I gasp against his lips. Damian’s eyes brighten and he does it again, making me cry out. He loves it. I can see it in the way he runs his gaze over my face, taking in my smallest reactions to his actions. It is giving him a kick.

“So responsive. I’m going to enjoy you thoroughly.”

My mouth drops open. He runs a caressing finger along my parted lower lip. His eyes turn a little amused. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll make sure you enjoy more than me.” He then pushes one finger inside my mouth. I stare up at his mesmerizing eyes, my lips automatically closing around his digit. “Even though you don’t deserve it.”

I halt. “Wha—” I choke when he presses deeper.

“You wanted me, didn’t you, River?” I just stare at him with wide, fearful eyes. “You’ve got me. Now you don’t get to regret it.”

My brows furrow. Why would I regret it? I want to ask. Why is he talking like this when he just admitted of waiting an eternity to have me? Damian doesn’t let me dwell on it as he withdraws his finger and delivers another hard and thorough kiss on my swollen lips.

From there, he doesn’t give me a single minute to think, his body shifting down my trembling one, his mouth on my breasts, his tongue flicking over my hardened nipples.

My strangled moans are echoing in the room, my fingers tangling in his hair as his mouth works over me, sucking, biting to send sparks of pleasure straight to my core.

I watch trembling as he presses my tits together and licks, sucks and nibbles on the rosy peaks, his stubble rubbing against my heated skin. My back arches, soft cries emanating from my lips as he continues his erotic assault.

He moves lower, trailing kisses down my stomach, and I’m panting.

“Damian…” I whisper, but he’s already between my legs, spreading them wide. The way he looks at me, his eyes filled with hunger, makes me feel so exposed that I try to close my legs, but he stops me, keeping them open.

“You’re mine,” he growls before his mouth is on me, his tongue licking a hot, wet stripe up my pussy. I cry out, my hips bucking, but he pins me down with his hands, holding me in place as he devours me. Every flick of his tongue, every suck on my clit sends me higher, closer to a blinding edge. I can’t believe what’s happening right now. I can’t believe the things he is doing to me. It feels… so dirty, so… good .

My heart is slamming against my breastbone so hard. I can’t hold back. My body clenches, trembling, as he drives me closer and closer to the brink. And when his finger slides inside me, curling just right, I shatter. The orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of pleasure that leaves me gasping, trembling beneath him.

But he’s not done. He pushes off me and stands. He takes off his clothes in record speed. Then Damian moves over me, his body covering mine, and plunges into me with a force that makes me cry out in pain.

He curses then stills. My nails dig into his back. He’s fully inside me. And I’m in agony.

There’s a long silence as I get used to the feeling of fullness and tackle the pain. I could’ve used few encouraging words from him. But it’s just as well. As the pain subsides to the dull ache, I glance up at him and then nod.

When he shifts a little, I gasp, and he stops again, looking down. “Okay?”

I take a deep breath then nod. He then slowly withdraws. And then he pushes inside me. Slowly, inch by inch, stretching me, filling me in a way that feels both painful and unbearably good.

“Fuck, River…” his voice strained. “So fucking tight.”

I can barely breathe, overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside me, but the dull pain starts to fade, replaced by a deep, aching pleasure. He pulls out slowly, only to thrust back in, harder this time, and I moan, my body arching up instinctively to meet him.

He sets a steady rhythm, each thrust harder, faster, his hips slamming into mine as he fucks me. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room, and I’m lost in the sensation, lost in him.

“One look at you…” His hand grips my hair, pulling my head back so I’m forced to look into his eyes as he takes me, his hips slamming into mine with a force that makes my body rock.

“And I had to have you,” he growls, his voice dark, possessive, sending shivers down my spine as he fucks me hard, his cock filling me over and over.

I cling to him, my hand fisting in his hair and the other wrapped around him as he takes me relentlessly, his pace unforgiving, and I can feel my release building again.

“Damian!” I gasp as he thrusts harder, his cock hitting deep inside me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

His lips brush my ear as he speaks. “Now you’re completely mine,” he murmurs, his words sending a shiver of heat through me as my orgasm crashes over me, my body convulsing beneath him.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t give me a moment to catch my breath as he flips me over onto my stomach, his hands gripping my hips as he pulls me up onto all fours.

His cock slams into me again, and I can’t hold back the scream that rips from my throat, the pleasure and pain too much to bear. He’s relentless, his pace brutal, and I can feel the heat of his body against mine as he fucks me harder, his hand gripping my hair, pulling me back so I’m forced to take every inch of him.

“Damian!” I cry, my body shaking as he drives into me over and over.

He lets out a low growl, his hips slamming into mine one final time before I feel him come inside me, his cock pulsing as he fills me completely. I collapse onto the bed, my body spent, trembling beneath him, his weight pressing down on me as he leans over, his breath hot against my skin. “Now we both suffer.”

Without warning, he pulls out of me, making me whimper. Then just as abruptly, he springs off the bed, his movements sharp, angry.

“I need a shower.” His voice is flat, detached—like what just happened didn’t even matter.

The sheets are still tangled around me as I struggle to sit up.

My heart twists painfully as I watch his broad back disappear through the door. The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut feels final, as though our special moment we just shared meant nothing to him.

Humiliation burns in my chest. He just… left. My eyes sting, and I bite my lip to hold back the tears. I’m still here, exposed, vulnerable, while he washes away any trace of me.

The next day, Damian locked himself away in his study, leaving me to wander the massive, cold castle alone. I didn’t see him at all, didn’t hear a word from him. It was as if I’d vanished from his world the moment the sun rose.

Every night, though, he came to me. He fucked me in the darkness, took what he wanted without a word, without tenderness, then disappeared again before the morning light touched his side of the bed. It was a brutal routine, and I felt more like a ghost in his life than his wife.

We stayed in that castle for a week, an endless cycle of silent days and lust-filled, hollow nights. I kept hoping things would change, that he’d finally look at me, see me for more than just a body to use. But every morning I woke to find his side of the bed cold, my heart a little colder too.

By the time we returned to Los Angeles, something inside me had cracked. The bubble I’d built around us burst. I realized that Damian wasn’t just distant; he was deliberately keeping me at arm’s length. I was clueless before. I remember spending sleepless nights worrying over the reasons behind this sudden change in him. But never got the answer.

Over that year, I loved him with everything I had. I tried, God, how I tried. I thought if I gave him time, if I showed him enough devotion, he’d eventually see me, love me. I would wait by the door like a fool every time he left for one of his endless business trips, hoping he’d say something—anything—that would tell me he was starting to care. But he was barely home. Weeks would pass, and when he finally did return, it wasn’t for me. It was for those cold nights when he’d take me, rough and wordless, like I was something to be used, then discarded. I tried to make those moments count, tried to tell myself that at least he was with me, that at least I had a piece of him, even if it wasn’t love.

But the truth was, those nights only deepened the ache. He would leave again before the morning light, off to whatever business mattered more than I did. I would stand at the window, watching, waiting for him to come back, praying that maybe this time, he’d stay more than a week. That maybe, just maybe, he’d look at me like I was his wife and not just some burden he was forced to bear.

Each time he left, the silence he left behind swallowed me whole. I filled that silence with hope, with excuses for him, convincing myself that the next time would be different.

It never was.

My heart broke a little more every time he walked out that door. The love I poured into every look, every touch, every word—he took it and gave nothing back. And still, I stayed, still I tried to be the wife he wanted, even though he barely acknowledged I existed outside of those brief, brutal moments we shared in bed. I was always waiting. Waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to see me, waiting for the love I craved.

But now… now I know better. Damian will never love me. He never did. And the worst part is, I think he knew all along. Knew that no matter how hard I tried, he would never give me what I wanted because this was never about us. It was always about something else—some grudge, some hatred against my father that goes beyond business rivalry, something I can’t even begin to understand.

That’s how I ended up here, trapped in a loveless marriage with a man I once thought could love me back. A man who took everything I had to give and left me with nothing but the ache of knowing I was never enough for him. And that’s how Damian who was the love of my life became my ruthless husband.