Meanwhile, Damian's exit from the dinner table hadn't gone unnoticed. His mother followed him into the corridor, her steps quick and purposeful. "Damian," she called, her voice firm.
He stopped but didn't turn around. "Mother."
"You're going to explain this," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "What was that display? Why her? You owe us an explanation."
Damian turned slowly, his golden eyes meeting hers without hesitation. "I don't owe anyone anything," he replied, his voice calm but resolute. "Least of all an explanation for my decisions."
His mother's lips pressed into a thin line. "This isn't just about you, Damian. This affects our family—our legacy."
"Then perhaps it's time our family started prioritizing integrity over appearances," he said sharply. "I'll handle the consequences. You needn't concern yourself."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving his mother standing in the hallway, her expression a mixture of frustration and begrudging respect.
Ahicia paced back and forth in her room, her mind racing. The evening had spiraled into a maelstrom of chaos, and Damian's proclamation still echoed in her ears. "I would rather marry Ahicia than Grace." The words replayed, each iteration filling her with a mix of anger, confusion, and something she couldn't quite name.
She stopped, her reflection in the ornate mirror catching her eye. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven. "What is his angle?" she muttered, glaring at her own reflection as if it held the answer.
A knock at the door broke her reverie. She turned sharply, her instincts urging her to stay on guard. "Who is it?"
"It's Damian," came the deep, steady voice from the other side.
Her pulse quickened. "What do you want?"
"To talk," he replied simply.
"I'm not interested," she shot back, crossing her arms.
"Too bad. We're doing this," he said firmly. A moment later, the door creaked open, and Damian stepped in, his golden eyes locking onto hers. The audacity of his entrance left her speechless for a moment.
"I didn't invite you in," she snapped, recovering quickly.
He closed the door behind him, unperturbed. "You don't have to. This is my house."
Her glare intensified, but she stayed rooted in place. "What do you want?"
Damian crossed the room with slow, measured steps, stopping just a few feet away. "I meant what I said at dinner."
She laughed bitterly. "Oh, I'm sure you did. But why? What are you trying to gain by dragging me into this mess?"
"Mess?" he repeated, his tone sharp. "You think this is a game to me? That I'm playing with your life for amusement?"
"Aren't you?" she shot back, stepping closer to him. "You barely know me, yet you make some grand declaration in front of everyone. Do you have any idea what that does to me? To my already fractured reputation?"
Damian's expression softened slightly, though his gaze remained intense. "I know more than you think, Ahicia. And I know you're stronger than the woman they try to paint you as."
Her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice, but she quickly masked her surprise with anger. "Spare me your platitudes. I don't need your pity."
"This isn't pity," he said firmly. "It's respect. Something you're not used to getting, but something you've earned."
The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air. For a moment, Ahicia didn't know how to respond. The fire in her chest burned brighter, but it wasn't fueled by anger anymore. It was something far more dangerous.
"Why me?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why not Grace? She's everything your family wants, everything they expect."
Damian stepped closer, his golden eyes never leaving hers. "Because I don't want a puppet. I want a partner. Someone who challenges me, who pushes back, who isn't afraid to speak her mind. That's you, Ahicia."
Her heart pounded, the weight of his words sinking in. She searched his face for any sign of deceit, but all she saw was unyielding determination.
"I don't trust you," she said finally, her voice trembling slightly.
He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. Trust has to be earned. And I intend to earn yours."
Before she could respond, he stepped back, his commanding presence filling the room. "Get some rest," he said, his tone softer now. "Tomorrow, we start fresh."
At the door, he hesitated, glancing back at her. "Ahicia," he said, his voice low but steady. "I like you. That's why."
Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. But before she could process the weight of his words, he was gone, leaving her with a storm of emotions she couldn't begin to untangle.
Ahicia sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. For the first time in a long while, she felt something other than anger or fear. She wasn't sure what it was yet, but she knew one thing: Damian was a far more dangerous adversary than she had ever anticipated.