Chapter Nine

Present

I open my eyes at the sunlit room, my heart still beating fast like it did when I hugged his card to my chest that day.

I remain perfectly still when I feel Damian moving in his sleep. He is an early riser so I wasn’t expecting him to still be in bed. We got in bed in wee hours. So it’s understandable.

A second later, his heavy arm drops over my waist, pulling me snugly against his warm body. My eyes burn.

I had dreamed of this years ago. Of sleeping next to him and waking up with his scent and arms surrounding me. I’m living it now. I’m living my fantasies of being next to the love of my life. Only now, it’s pure misery.

Every touch, every look, every conversation hurts me. And it is worse now that I have to act indifferent. And put on a mask of nonchalance so he won’t suspect how heartbroken I am.

Growing up, I had a multitude of tutors shaping my every move, dictating how to act, behave, even how to walk and talk with a prescribed finesse. One might assume that feigning nonchalance about the divorce and his betrayal should come naturally. Yet, it’s far from easy.

I’m not sure how long I can last. This is the reason I didn’t want to return to L.A until I’d figured out a way to divorce without facing him. I can’t believe Damian is the same man who I once ran after like a fool to just get a glimpse of. And now don’t have the strength to face.

I close my burning eyes. Realizing with shame that I don’t possess a smidgen of strength to push his arm away. The grief twists my gut as I lay awake in his hold for a long time.

There was a time when he was my protector. My lover and ally against the world. And now he is my worst enemy. My husband who I have to stand against and fight for freedom.

As my concerns shift toward Dad, I reflect on the decision to leave him and sever ties in favor of being with Damian. But now that I have an inkling of his motives, there seems to be no reason to withhold myself from the affection of my dad any longer. I miss him greatly.

It has been so long since I heard his soothing voice. I don’t even know how he’s doing. I was too hurt to reach out but when the days turned to months, I eventually resigned myself to a painful truth—I believed Dad wanted nothing to do with me. Now, the desire to reconnect with him stirs within me but fear lingers, whispering that perhaps he wouldn’t welcome it.

The little cash I had was all spent on travelling. Damian didn’t let me work because he wanted me to be entirely dependent on him.

Now, I find myself without money, without a home, and without a job. A heavy sigh escapes me. My whole life is in shambles because of the man I love. Ever since he came into my life, everything’s turned upside down. Nothing’s the same anymore.

I jump slightly as his arm tightens around my waist. He mumbles something in his sleep before clutching me tighter. I twist my head and find his eyes clenched shut and face damp with perspiration.

“Damian?” Frowning, I touch his cheek. His face contorts, his bare chest rising and falling rapidly.

Grabbing his arm, I attempt to loosen his grip. My breath catches in my throat when Damian crushes my ribs. I wince and try again. It takes a minute for me to free myself and hover over him. Cupping his face, I try to wake him. “Damian, wake up.”

I run my fingers to smooth down his damp hair. “Please, Damian, wake up.” His eyes flutter and I whisper soothing words as I cradle his face. “Yes, come back to me.” A tear escapes from his closed eye and slides down his temple and wets my fingers. Something inside me squeezes hard when I realize he’s crying in his sleep.

What’s happening? Is this why he avoided sleeping beside me? We used this bed mainly for sex. At the beginning when I started waking up alone, I simply assumed he was an early riser. Come to think of it, I rarely caught him sleeping with me.

What’s troubling him? He’s never opened up about his past. All I know is that he was an orphan until Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery adopted him at the age of 12. Unfortunately, his adoptive parents passed away when he was in college, leaving him with little financial support. He forged his own path without relying on his father’s money. Beyond these details, I’m in the dark about his history. It’s a subject I’ve learned not to broach because it always makes him distant and guarded.

I press my lips to his cool forehead and stroke his hair. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here.”

He says something again before jerking in my arms. “Damian,” I whisper, willing him to fight his demons and come back to me.

As if my plea reaches him, his eyelids begin to lift until he stares at me.

For a moment, his eyes are disoriented but then they sharpen and he quickly detaches himself from me.

My arms fall limply at my side as I stare at him helplessly. I know if I try to touch him, or console him, he would reject it. So I get off the bed and run outside the bedroom.

My feet thud on the floor as I hurry down the stairs. I pass the spacious dining room area and library before reaching the kitchen.

“Mrs. Montgomery?” A middle-aged woman dressed in white blouse and black slacks appears around the counter.

I startle, obviously not expecting company since Damian said he fired all the staff. “I’m Edith. Your new housekeeper.”

“Hello, sorry I’m in a bit of a hurry.” I stride to the fridge.

“Do you need anything? You can tell me—”

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. And pause for a second then decide to grab a small bottle of orange juice. “I got it, thanks.” I respond then I’m running back to the bedroom, vaguely noticing the guards I might’ve missed in my haste here. I ignore them as I quicken my pace. This place is awfully huge.

Upon entering, I find the bedroom empty. The sound of the shower running grabs my attention. So I pace the room as my gaze keep straying at the bathroom door.

My throat is dry as I try to swallow. I need to talk to him. Make sure he’s okay. I’m so wired up that I give a start when the door opens and he comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

I hurry to his side and extend the water bottle. He ignores it and marches to the walk-in closet. I follow him but stop at the doorframe. “Damian,” I avert my gaze when he drops the towel. “I…” I glance at the bottles in my hand. “You should… this,” I turn my head to see if he’s decent and find him in his boxers, rummaging through his dress shirts.

I hesitate for a second before stepping inside. “Here.” I offer both the bottles. He doesn’t even spare them or me a glance as he picks up a black shirt and pulls it on.

I place the juice on the rack before uncapping the water bottle.

When he goes to button it, I cover his hand.

He finally glances at me. I pull his hand free from where he’s holding the shirt button so I can hand the bottle to him. Or at least try to because he resists it.

“Drink,” I mutter quietly then try to pull his hand again but he doesn’t let up.

I look up at him and find his black eyes focused on me. I tug again and he resists again. I just want him to hand the bottle and get out of here so I could escape his probing eyes.

“Damn it, Damian, I didn’t poison it.” I yank his hand again. He has slammed down his defenses again but I won’t back down. I won’t cower away this time.

“You sure?”

I jerk when he speaks.

“Yes. Now drink it—” I trail when he edges closer. I am so much smaller compared to him. His hard body invades my personal space. I suck in a harsh breath and stare up at him.

“How can I trust my wife, who seems so eager to leave me? What if you did poison it to get rid of me.”

My lips part. “Do you really believe I would do something like that?”

He takes another step forward and traps me against the wall. He isn’t touching me but his black eyes caresses my face then my body which is still clad in a bathrobe I slept in.

“I don’t know, angel. I used to believe you’d never leave me, but you did. I never thought you’d be sneaky enough to spike my soup with sleeping pills, but you did, didn’t you?”

“I did that because you left me no choice!” I sputter with anger and hurt.

He braces one hand on the wall beside me. “Is that right?”

“Yes! You know it is.” How could he even entertain the idea that I’d stoop to something so cruel? My love for him is undeniable, and the notion of intentionally causing harm to anyone much less him is repulsive to me. Doesn’t he see who I am at my core? Yes, I drugged him, but it wasn’t driven by malice. The desperate act was my only way to break free, even though every ounce of my being had rebelled against the very thought of doing that.

“Prove it then.” He clutches my hand holding the bottle and lifts it.

Seriously? This is what I get for caring. I don’t even know if he is being defensive or he actually thinks I poisoned the water but anyway, I’m going to prove it.

Locking my eyes with his, I bring the bottle to my lips and take a swig. And because my throat was parched, I down half the bottle without realizing it. “Happy?” I ask, licking my wet lips.

His eyes darken. A small part of me is aware how close he is. How his shirt is still unbuttoned and the sides of his shirt is touching my quivering chest. I inhale sharply and immediately regret it. The scent of his shower gel mingled with his male scent creates an intoxicating allure that makes it hard for me to focus on the situation at hand.

Despite his hurtful assessment about me, I can’t deny the magnetic pull I feel toward him. His dark, intense eyes bore into me and something familiar begins to brew in me.

I try not to gaze at his sculpted chest. Try not to think about the conflicting emotions of anger, desire and lingering hurt. In his close proximity, locked in this intimate space, memories of our making love begin to surface in my mind. This proves that despite everything, my feelings for him still runs deep.

“What’s your game, angel?”

“My game?” I ask with hurt in my voice. “You had a nightmare, Damian. I was so worried so I rushed to get you something to drink to help you calm down.” I lower my eyes. “I can’t see you suffer.”

He steps back. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Pity?” This time, I erase the gap between us. “You think I pity you?”

He remains silent and my vision blurs. “Pity is the last thing that drove me to run around first thing in the morning like a crazy woman for you.”

“Then why did you bother yourself with it?”

“Because I care about you!” My chest heaves as I cry out. “I still do. Even after I know you never loved me. I can’t just turn off my feelings.”

“Hmm. So you still love me.”

I jerk back. “I d-don’t.”

“You were always a bad liar.” He tucks a curl behind my ear. I push his hand away.

“I’m not the girl you married anymore. I won’t let you manipulate me.”

He leans in, pressing me against the wall again. “Well, I don’t have to try hard, do I?” His gaze runs over my face. “I see the desire in your eyes.”

I push his chest, the bottle crashes down on the carpeted floor. “That’s just my physical reaction to you. Don’t worry, I will make sure to bury it so deep it wouldn’t ever resurface.”

He grabs my wrist and presses it against the wall. “Can you really? You—the na?ve little girl who once gave everything to me without even asking—have it in you to resist me?” He mocks.

“You’re heartless.” My voice cracks.

“Sometimes you have to be in order to survive in this world.”

“That’s not true.” I say softly.

His expression darkens. “Of course, the spoiled princess would think that.”

I wrench my eyes away. He takes advantage of it and buries his face in my neck. “You can hate me all you want, but you can’t deny what we have.”

My eyes fall shut when he begins kissing my neck. “You’re so easy.”

I freeze. Then, with a pained groan, I push his chest hard. It catches him off guard.

Without any word, I run and don’t stop until I’m out of the bedroom and into the guestroom. Locking myself in, I fall against the door before sliding down. Covering my face, I cry softly.

◆◆◆

After having a good cry, I took a long shower and dressed myself in a new robe as I am still hiding in the guestroom.

“You’re so easy.”

Fresh tears spring in my eyes as I recall his words again. I wish he could see for himself the pain those words caused me. I wish he could see how much loving him costs me.

His disdain when he called me a spoiled princess was something I never faced. Today, he showed me he truly despises me. Then why marry me?

What could’ve been his agenda for marrying me? He has more money than God. He certainly didn’t marry me for it. In fact, he was pleased when I dropped out of college and had to depend on him financially. He even encouraged and paid for my desire to do the random online courses. So if not money, then what could it be?

I let him in. I bared my soul only for him to take advantage of my vulnerabilities. I need to know why he played me like that. I need answers. But before that, I need to call Summer.

I reluctantly leave the safety of the guestroom and make my way to the master. I let out relieved breath when I find it empty. I quickly dress in short sleeve thin v neck white jumper and calf length cream slip skirt.

As I stand in front of the mirror, my pale green eyes meet their own reflection. My dark brown curls frame my face, a stark contrast against my pale skin. A wave of melancholy washes over me as I take in the sight of myself in my old clothes. I shake my head.

I look like the old version of me—the delicate little wife of a ruthless billionaire.

But I’m not na?ve anymore. I possess a newfound strength now. I’m more than just the reflection before me. I’m more than the foolish wife of Damian Montgomery. I might look like the old me but I’m nothing like her now.

Straightening my posture, I meet my eyes in the mirror. A determination starts to rise within me. I won’t let him define me. He thinks of me as a spoiled princess. A wanton woman who can’t resist her husband. I’ll prove him wrong. The road to the new goal is rocky but I promise myself that I won’t let him walk over me again.

Damian doesn’t deserve my love nor my care. It’s time to give him the taste of his own medicine.

I turn away from the mirror and venture out of the master bedroom.

I walk down the stairs and along the long hallways to reach the family area.

“Good morning, Mrs. Montgomery.” Edith’s gray eyes are kind as she greets me.

“Good morning. Please call me River.” I approach the kitchen counter.

“You must be hungry, Mrs. Montgomery.” She smiles before continuing to wipe the counter. My eyebrows lift slightly. She completely disregarded my request to be on the first name basis. I suppose it’s because of Damian.

The staff before were not this strict. I had a little solace thinking I had someone to talk to in his absence. Now he took that away from me as well. He wants me alone and miserable.

“I was looking for my handbag and a duffle bag. Did you see them anywhere?”

“No, I’m afraid not. What would you like to eat?”

I need to talk to Summer first. And for that I need my phone which is inside the handbag. “I’m not hungry—”

“Ma’am you must eat something. Mr. Montgomery’s orders.”

I clench my teeth. “Well, I don’t follow his orders.”

“But we do.” A deep voice interrupts. I whirl around to see Hal striding toward me. He is wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. His dark blond hair is short on the sides and thick on top and styled perfectly as usual.

“Any problem?” he asks Edith.

“Mrs. Montgomery refuses to eat.”

“Why?”

“She needs her bags—”

I raise a hand stopping her. My voice, sharp and assertive, slices through the air as I address them both. “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here. I won’t allow you both to disrespect me like that.”

Edith pales and Hal raises his eyebrows, a glimmer of surprise as well as something close to respect shines in his eyes. Edith apologizes profusely while Hal keeps regarding me silently. Then a minute later, he says, “Your bags are in his home office.”

I tense. “Why? I need my things.” My phone. Not to mention my passport and some valuables.

“If you want your bags, you should ask Mr. Montgomery himself.”

I don’t want to face him right now. Not before talking to Summer. I need my best friend. “I’m asking you. Answer me why he has my bags.”

“To avoid unnecessary conflicts.”

“What does that mean?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Damian has my phone because he doesn’t want me to reach out the outside world.

“I need my belongings. Right now.”

He examines me as if I’ve grown another head. Well, before this, I never talked back to anyone, much less Damian’s security chief.

“I can’t go against his orders. Talk to him if you have a problem.”

I shake my head. “You do know this is wrong, right? I’m not a prisoner here.”

But you are . His silence says.

I fist my fingers. “Where is he?”

“He left for an important meeting few minutes ago. I’ll notify you when he’s back.”

“Why are you here if he’s not?”

He is silent again.

“I’m not a child who needs to be monitored.”

No response.

“Why did I expect better from you?” I say wryly.

“My loyalty lies with Mr. Montgomery, ma’am.”

Don’t I know it? I turn to leave when he speaks again. “He is not a bad man.”

I don’t turn as I answer, “I beg to differ.”

“Eat your breakfast, please.”

“I’ll eat when I get my things back.”

I’m not a pushover anymore. If Damian thinks I’ll let him dictate my life this time around, he is gravely mistaken.