Three days passed.
Three days of silence, obedience, and humiliation.
Every morning, I reported to the main hall with a smile painted on lips that no longer remembered what real warmth felt like. I greeted guests, poured tea, stood behind chairs like a statue carved for display.
And Damien ignored me like I was part of the wallpaper.
He didn't speak unless giving orders. He didn't look unless something displeased him.
Cassia, on the other hand, made sure I never forgot my place. Every smirk. Every dig. Every little whisper in front of others that reminded me I was here because someone else had failed to pay their dues.
But I endured.
Until today.
Today, I made a mistake.
And he made sure I paid for it.
---
It started with the gala.
A private auction Damien was hosting at one of his downtown properties. Exclusive guest list. Flashing cameras. Whispered power plays under chandeliers worth more than my life.
I was told to dress appropriately.
Cassia personally delivered the gown to my room—a crimson silk number, tighter than skin and slit to my thigh. I hesitated when I saw it, but I didn't have a choice. Refusal would be reported. And Damien didn't tolerate refusal.
By 7:30, we arrived at the venue.
He stepped out of the car first, every inch the dark prince the world worshipped. I followed, heart hammering as I took his offered arm—not out of affection, but to complete the illusion.
The flashes started instantly.
"Damien Lancaster with his mystery wife!"
"Is it true she's from the disgraced Marshall family?"
He didn't flinch.
He just walked like he was invincible, dragging me in his wake.
Inside, the room buzzed with opulence. Waiters with silver trays. Soft classical music echoing off marble walls. Damien spoke with associates while I stood silently at his side, ignored by everyone except the curious stares that whispered she doesn't belong here.
It wasn't until the third hour that it happened.
The young businessman from the meeting—the one who had told me I looked like I wanted to scream—approached again.
He smiled. "You clean up well."
I gave him a tight nod, praying Damien wouldn't notice.
But he did.
He always did.
"You're not supposed to speak to guests," he said coldly, cutting through the room like a blade.
I turned to him quickly. "He spoke to me. I didn't—"
His fingers gripped my arm, hard. "You think that matters?"
People stared.
Cassia smirked from across the ballroom, enjoying every second.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
His voice dropped to a hiss. "You'll regret that."
He didn't cause a scene.
Damien Lancaster never did.
But the punishment came later.
---
Back at the mansion, he didn't speak to me.
Not until we reached the hallway outside my room.
Then, he turned, slamming the door behind us.
"You embarrassed me in front of my associates."
"I didn't do anything!" My voice cracked. "He spoke to me—what was I supposed to do, ignore him and look stupid?"
He stepped closer.
I stepped back.
"I told you from day one," he said, deadly quiet. "You don't speak unless I say so. You don't breathe unless I allow it."
"I'm not a robot," I snapped before I could stop myself.
His jaw clenched.
"Then maybe it's time I remind you what you really are."
He yanked me forward, fingers digging into my jaw, forcing my gaze up.
"You're here because I allow it. Because I own your fate. You don't get to make choices. You don't get opinions. You smile, you serve, and you survive. That's all."
I stared up at him, body trembling, fire boiling beneath the surface.
"Why?" I whispered. "Why marry me if you hate me so much?"
Something flickered in his eyes.
But only for a second.
Then it was gone, and he shoved me back hard enough that I hit the dresser behind me, breath catching in my throat.
"Because your last name comes with blood money. And I want every last drop."
He turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him.
I slid to the floor, fists clenched, heart shattering beneath the weight of another cruel truth.
I wasn't a person to him.
I was a transaction.
A walking receipt for a grudge that never died.
And yet… something inside me refused to break this time.
Because he hadn't taken everything. Not yet.
The fire was still there.
Buried beneath bruises.
Breathing beneath pain.
Waiting.
And one day… when he least expected it…
I'd let it burn.