The days after that night were quieter, but no less complicated.
Lena couldn't stop thinking about what Damien had said that rare crack in his fortress. The fleeting vulnerability he had shown her. But she didn't push him. She couldn't.
His grief was like a shadow that clung to every corner of their marriage, every room of the penthouse. And for reasons Lena couldn't explain, it hurt her too.
She was here to help him right? To play her part in this cold, contractual marriage. But somewhere along the way, it felt less like a role and more like a connection, something deeper than just an agreement.
Wednesday Morning – The Penthouse
Lena was in the kitchen, sipping coffee, when Damien entered. He looked as composed as ever, but there was something different about his expression today. Tired. Worn.
He walked past her without a word, heading toward the living room.
She hesitated, then followed.
"Damien?" she called, her voice cautious.
He stopped and turned to her, his face impassive.
"What is it, Lena?"
"Are you okay?"
He exhaled, something like frustration in his eyes. "I'm fine."
But Lena wasn't convinced. Not this time. "You know, you don't always have to pretend with me. I get it. It's hard."
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to snap. But then, something in his eyes softened, just slightly.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I don't always have to pretend."
Lena's heart skipped. Was he going to let her in?
But then, just as quickly, he pulled back, his walls returning. "But that doesn't mean I want you to pity me."
She held his gaze. "I'm not pitying you, Damien. I'm just… here. If you ever need someone."
He looked at her for a long moment before nodding. "Thanks."
It was a small step, but to Lena, it felt like a breakthrough. Even if it was just a crack in the ice, it was something.
That Evening – Charity Gala
The next night, Damien and Lena were scheduled to attend a gala for a charity his family had supported for years. The Blackwoods were known for their philanthropic endeavors, and tonight was no different.
The evening was a glittering affair champagne, silk gowns, and tuxedos. Yet, despite the beauty of the event, Lena couldn't help but feel out of place. The guests whispered as they passed by, always curious, always watching.
Damien's hand was a solid presence at the small of her back, a touch that should have felt possessive, but instead felt protective. They moved through the crowd together, both performing their parts perfectly.
But as the night wore on, something shifted.
Lena noticed the way the other women looked at her jealous, envious eyes that glared at her every move. The men, too, didn't seem to care that she was married. Their gazes were filled with too much interest.
She felt uncomfortable. Exposed.
Then, as she glanced at Damien, she saw something in his eyes that sent a chill down her spine.
He wasn't watching the guests.
He was watching her.
Their eyes locked across the room, and for a moment, it was as though no one else existed. The noise, the people, the lights all faded into the background.
Then, before she could process what was happening, he was walking toward her, cutting through the crowd with purpose.
"Lena," he said in a low voice, "we need to leave."
She frowned. "Why? The event just started."
His jaw tightened. "Trust me."
Back at the Penthouse
They arrived back at the penthouse in record time, the elevator ride up feeling unnervingly long in the silence between them.
Once inside, Damien's expression darkened further.
"What happened?" Lena asked, trying to gauge the shift in his demeanor.
He didn't look at her, but his tone was tight. "You weren't just a trophy tonight, Lena. You were bait. For them. The press. The vultures."
She blinked. "I don't—"
"You looked too beautiful tonight," he said harshly. "Too perfect. They wanted something from you. From us."
Lena swallowed. "What do you mean?"
He turned sharply, the intensity in his gaze leaving her no room for misunderstanding. "I mean, you were being watched. You are being watched. Every move you make, every word you speak it's all part of the game."
Lena felt her heart race, her breath coming in sharp bursts. "I thought you wanted to keep this quiet. I thought we were a contract."
"We are," he snapped. "But contracts are about control. And I'm losing control. And you… you don't even realize how much power you have in this."
Lena's chest tightened. "Power? What are you talking about?"
Damien was breathing harder now, his eyes wild. "I'm talking about you, Lena. You have the ability to destroy everything I've built. If you wanted to, you could ruin me."
Lena took a step back, her mind reeling. "Damien… I don't want to ruin you. I'm just trying to survive this marriage."
He shook his head, his frustration evident. "But that's the problem. You don't realize how deep you're in. We're both in too deep, and neither of us can walk away now."