Part 3 – The Aftermath of "Marry Me Instead"
The words fell like thunder.
"Marry me instead."
Gasps rippled through the ballroom, sharp and cutting. Someone dropped a glass; the shatter echoed across marble floors. In the corner, a woman laughed nervously, certain she had misheard. But no—Damian Blackwood's voice carried the weight of command, and there was no mistaking the challenge in his tone.
Aria froze, bouquet trembling in her hands. Her lips parted, but her throat refused to shape words. She stared at him, at the tall, immovable figure standing in her humiliation as though he had every right to be there.
He had to be joking.
He had to.
But Damian Blackwood was not a man known for jokes.
"Mr. Blackwood," her father croaked, stepping forward, his forehead already slick with sweat. "Surely you don't mean—"
Damian didn't so much as glance at him. His gray eyes remained locked on Aria's, cold, unyielding, like steel chains pulling tighter with every heartbeat.
"I mean every word," Damian said, his voice steady, calm in the face of chaos. "Ethan Carter has shamed you. I am offering you the opposite."
Aria's heart slammed against her ribs. "The opposite?" she whispered, anger cutting through her shock. "You think this—this spectacle—is saving me from shame?"
Whispers flared around them, a fire of scandal and fascination.
"He can't be serious."
"Damian Blackwood… proposing? Here?"
"This is madness."
Her mother gripped her wrist tightly, nails biting into her skin. "Aria," she hissed, frantic. "Say yes! Don't you see? This is better—so much better—"
Aria jerked her hand free, her voice rising. "Better? To be thrown from one man's humiliation into another's arrogance? No."
Damian's expression didn't flicker. He simply closed the distance between them, every step deliberate, until he stood a breath away. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze, refusing to cower.
"You mistake me," Damian said softly, though his voice carried to every corner of the hall. "This isn't arrogance. This is inevitability."
Aria's pulse stuttered. "You expect me to believe this is fate?"
"I expect you to believe," he murmured, leaning close enough that only she could hear the next words, "that I am your only option."
The air drained from her lungs.
He knew. Somehow, he knew about the debts, the looming collapse, the truth her family had hidden beneath layers of silk and smiles. And with one sentence, he had cornered her in front of everyone.
"Choose, Miss White," Damian said, straightening, his voice once more sharp and commanding. "Will you stand abandoned, pitied, ruined? Or will you rise—beside me?"