Chapter Forty-Eight

River

“S top it!” I laugh, swatting Damian’s hand away as he fumbles with the button of his crisp white shirt for what feels like the tenth time.

His expression is all irritation, brows furrowed, jaw set in that uncompromising way of his. He is really sulking! It’s adorable—if Damian Montgomery could ever look adorable.

His eyes narrow as he regards me with an almost betrayed look. “I still can’t believe you talked me into wearing this,” he mutters, a hint of resignation in his voice as he glares at the light beige blazer draped over his broad shoulders.

I suppress a smile. “You wore blue during our trip, remember? And you didn’t seem to mind then.”

“Yes, well…” He huffs, clearly searching for an excuse. “That was only for you. I don’t exactly go around wearing light colors for everyone else to see. They make me look—”

“Gorgeous?” I tease, flashing him a grin as I step in closer, adjusting the lapel of his blazer before running my hand down the soft fabric, savoring the contrast between his usual dark, brooding look and this lighter, refreshing tone. He really does look gorgeous, and I can’t help but feel a surge of pride knowing I’m the reason he’s dressed this way.

“Funny,” he grumbles.

I smirk up at him, raising my eyebrows. “You’re lucky I didn’t choose the red blazer.”

He looks horrified, and I burst into laughter, unable to help myself. Even Hal, who’s usually as stone-faced as Damian, raises his eyebrows in surprise, trying to hide his laugh behind a cough as he adjusts his suit jacket.

I lock eyes with Vicky from across the foyer, and she gives me an enthusiastic thumbs-up, glancing between my beige dress and Damian’s matching blazer.

I feel a rush of excitement, not just because Damian looks breathtaking but because tonight feels different, lighter, more normal. Like a real night out.

I’m heading toward the main door when I feel Damian’s hand close around my arm, gently steering me back. “We’ll be leaving through the back,” he murmurs, glancing toward the entryway.

I blink up at him, puzzled. “Why?”

He lets out a tense sigh. “There’s a swarm of paparazzi out front.”

“Paparazzi?” My brows lift in shock. “Why would they be here?”

“They’re fishing for a headline after my latest takeover,” he says, his tone edged with irritation. “They want something that’ll make the front page. We’d be better off avoiding them.”

I frown slightly as he gently steers me down a corridor that leads to the back exit. “Must be a high-profile takeover if they’re camping out on our doorstep,” I mumble, casting him a sideways look.

He doesn’t glance at me as he says, “It is. But right now, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting you to your friend’s party on time.”

“Right.” I smile, feeling a rush of excitement. I’m about to see my best friend in what feels like forever, to let loose a bit—and with Damian by my side, no less.

As Hal drives, Vicky sits in the passenger seat, focused ahead. Damian’s earlier comment about them crosses my mind, and curiosity gets the better of me. I lean forward. “Vicky, you’re going to love meeting Summer and her friends. She’s a big deal in the modelling world, you know? And her friends coming tonight are all tall, ridiculously good-looking models. I bet you’ll hit it off with a few of them.”

The reaction is immediate. Hal’s gaze cuts to Vicky, sharp and intense, as if daring her to respond, and I watch in shock as she glances over at him, cheeks going pink. Vicky, blushing because of Hal? My jaw literally drops.

Before I can process the new dynamic unfolding right in front of me, Damian’s hand slides around the nape of my neck, pulling me back toward him. His eyes narrow, but there’s a spark of amusement hidden in their depths. “You’re trouble, you know that?” His voice is low, a hint of a growl, clearly recognizing that I’ve just kicked up a storm between our two bodyguards.

“But…”

Damian doesn’t let me finish the thought. He dips his head and brushes a swift, chaste kiss over my lips, cutting me off in that familiar possessive way of his. “Leave it alone, angel. Let them figure it out,” he says in my ear.

I press my lips together, still trying to wrap my head around the idea. Opposites really do attract, don’t they? First Summer and Archer—who hated each other somehow ended up getting engaged, and now this? Vicky and Hal… I shake my head, smiling. Maybe they’re not so impossible, after all.

The grand entrance of the banquet hall is alive with elegant lighting and colorful décor that perfectly suits Summer’s vibrant style.

I practically bounce with excitement, clutching an enormous bouquet of blush pink roses in my hands. The sheer size of it is probably a little much, but if there’s ever a time to go overboard, it’s for Summer’s engagement.

Behind me, Damian and Hal each carry a huge, gift-laden basket, the lavish ribbons and glittering wrap spilling over the sides. Damian levels me a sidelong glance, clearly not thrilled about his temporary role as a gift-bearer. But he doesn’t say a word as he follows behind me, his frame looking as commanding as ever despite the armful of presents.

To my side, Vicky carries a smaller bouquet, something she picked out herself. She lifts it with a small smile, giving me a quick nod as we grin at each other.

Inside, the hall glows beneath a soft chandelier light, and I feel a giddy warmth bubbling up in me as I scan the crowd.

As soon as I spot Summer across the room, a warm rush of happiness fills me. She looks absolutely stunning, glowing in a floor-length gown of shimmering silver. Her dark long hair falls over her shoulders in soft, loose waves. I can’t wait to rush over to her.

I quickly turn to Damian and Hal. “Could you two put the gifts on the table with the others?” I ask, motioning toward the ornate gift table set up along one side of the hall.

Damian gives me a small sigh but doesn’t object. “Fine. You go on,” he says as he heads off with Hal.

Vicky and I exchange a grin before making our way to Summer. As soon as she sees us, her face lights up, and she lets out a delighted squeal, rushing forward to hug me. Her arms wrap around me tightly, and I return the hug just as fiercely.

“River!” she chirps, pulling back with that beaming smile of hers.

“You look stunning, Summer! Truly,” I gush, handing her the bouquet.

She laughs, eyes sparkling. “Oh, stop! You’re making me blush,” she says, then glances at Vicky with genuine warmth. “And this must be Vicky!” Summer pulls her into a quick hug too, surprising Vicky, who looks almost flustered for a second before she smiles, touched by Summer’s friendly greeting.

Setting the bouquets on a nearby table, she turns toward the tall man standing beside her, looking like he’d walked straight off the cover of a magazine.

Archer, her fiancé, is handsome in that captivating way—strong jawline, and a charming smile that seems custom-made to melt hearts. His dark hair is swept to the side in an effortless style, and he’s dressed in a fitted black suit that looks great on him.

“River, Vicky, meet Archer,” Summer introduces, her eyes shining with pride and love.

Archer smiles, offering his hand to both of us with a warm, easygoing charm. “I’ve heard so much about you. Thank you for coming.”

“Congratulations!” I beam at them.

“Thank you,” he says, glancing at Summer as if he can’t believe his luck. The two of them look so perfect together, and I can’t help but feel a flutter of happiness for her.

We chat for a few minutes, then Summer calls the photographer over to take our pictures. We laugh and pose and enjoy ourselves.

That’s when I catch Damian walking up beside me. Finally! I loop my arm around his and turn toward the happy couple, grinning. “Summer, you never got to properly meet my husband. This is—”

“Damian?” she whispers, barely audible, her voice carrying an emotion so profound it garners attention from people surrounding us.

Confusion stirs within me, and I smile at her questioningly. “Yes… Damian. How do you know his name?”

Tears begin to gather in her eyes, and her entire frame shudders as though the ground beneath her feet has just been ripped away.

My gaze flicks to Damian, expecting him to be just as confused but what I find on his face chills me.

His expression, so often steely and unreadable, is now disturbingly solemn. His jaw tightens, the warmth I know in his face eclipsed by a guarded tension, as if every muscle in his body is fighting to remain composed. His hand hangs still at his side, fingers curled into a tight fist.

I glance back at Summer, and she’s visibly struggling, one hand pressed against her mouth as though she’s physically holding back her emotions.

Archer, frowning at Damian furiously, immediately steadies her with a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, though her gaze remains transfixed on Damian.

A tear slips free, and she lets it fall, ruining her makeup.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Archer asks, his voice full of worry, glancing from her to Damian, then back again. But she doesn’t respond, stunned as if she’s just seen a ghost.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice shaking with tension, unsure of what to make of all this. My heart sinking with every second as I watch my best friend and my husband stare at each other.

Damian finally opens his mouth, voice rough. “Summer…”

But before he can get another word out, a fist collides with his jaw out of nowhere, snapping his head to the side. A man in a leather jacket with intense, blue eyes flashing with fury comes into view.

“Raleigh!” Summer cries, trying to reach him, but Raleigh’s eyes are locked on Damian, blazing with anger.

Hal lunges forward, ready to give it back but Damian holds out a hand, stopping him. For some reason that pisses off Raleigh more, with his fist clenched, he steps forward for another swing.

“Stop!” I yell, rushing forward without thinking. Shoving him back with all the force I can muster, I shout, “How dare you lay a hand on my husband!”

Damian grabs me with an arm over my chest from behind to pull me back but I dig my heels in, ready to bash this man’s head if need be.

Raleigh’s face tightens, but before he can respond, a woman steps between us, her posture defensive. She’s striking, with chin-length hair and stormy gray eyes that cut through me as she invades my personal space. “Don’t touch my husband,” she says coldly, her gaze like steel as it meets mine.

“Hannah, please!” Summer’s voice reaches us but no one reacts.

“Your husband?” I echo, incredulous. “Your husband thinks he can just attack mine?” I match her glare, my voice hard.

Her lips pull into a humorless smile. “Your husband looks more than capable of defending himself.”

“So does yours!”

“Fuck this shit.” Raleigh spits out, spinning on his heel and storming off, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

“Who the hell are you?” Hannah glares at my husband.

“Damian,” Summer whispers.

Hannah’s eyes widen as shock washes over her. It’s as if the name clicks in her mind and understanding dawns on her in an instant. She stares at him in disbelief for a second. She looks ready to say something, but holds back, her jaw tight and she too, turns and runs after her husband.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” I snap, pulling away from Damian, my chest tight. I turn to Summer. “What is this, Summer? You invited us here, only to have my husband attacked like this? You know I love you but I won’t tolerate this kind of disrespect—”

Damian’s hands close over my shoulders, pulling me close. “It’s okay,” he says quietly.

I watch him in disbelief. His lip is busted, a bruise already darkening on his chin, and he’s standing there telling me it’s okay? This isn’t my Damian. The man who hits back twice as hard, who never hesitates to defend himself is silent, taking the punch from a stranger without even flinching, without retaliating. It’s not like him at all.

“No, it’s not okay! He had no right—”

“Yes, he did.”

I stare at him, trying to understand. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Because…” Summer steps forward, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Raleigh, Damian, and I… we have history.”

“I don’t understand…” I whisper, confusion seizing me, but there’s a tightening in my chest that tells me this is more than I’m prepared to hear.

She hesitates, glances at Damian before saying. “River… Damian is our foster brother.”