At one of the most prestigious hotels in LA—Malple—both families gathered for dinner. The Thorn and Vaughn families had been allies for decades, ever since the early nineties. Politically and economically, they had carved their names deep into the business world, leaving no space for competitors to rise. People feared them. People respected them. They were also the oldest aristocratic families in LA.
Yet the Thorn family had always enjoyed a slight edge—more influence, more prosperity and visibility.
When Damian and Elena were still children, both families ensured they grew up side by side. They attended the same schools, the same functions, the same summers. Lewis Thorn, the current head of the Thorn family, made certain his son stayed rooted in the Thorn legacy. And Cassandra Thorn? She saw no better match for her son than Elena Vaughn.
Soft clatters of knives and forks filled the private dining room. The buffet was their monthly gathering—celebrating wins, sealing business matters, strengthening ties.
Tonight, however, the atmosphere was heavy. Tension pressed against the walls like an invisible weight, slicing into everyone's composure. This had never happened before, not between their families. Something had shifted.
Cassandra grimaced as her eyes drifted to the empty seat across from her. Damian's seat. He had sat there every month without fail, yet today, he missed one of the most important gatherings. His absence was a direct insult to the Vaughn family, who had come with their daughter. It was also a blow to Cassandra and her husband.
"Elizabeth, I'm sorry about Damian's absence," Cassandra finally said, trying to keep her voice cordial even though Elizabeth's expression had been sour all evening. "I would have scolded him harder if I knew he'd miss tonight."
She had married into the Thorn family and built a long term friendship with Elizabeth Vaughn. Over the years their bond deepened, and their reputations flourished alongside each other's.
Cassandra, with her sophistication and commanding grace, was one of LA's wealthiest women—a renowned ambassador and owner of a leading cosmetics brand.
Tonight, she looked every bit the influential socialite. Her dark hair was braided and pinned into an elegant bun, silver hairpins glittering softly under the chandelier light. Her makeup was flawless and light. A high-fashioned emerald dinner dress hugged her body, paired with obsidian earrings which matched her sharp, dark eyes. A thin silver necklace with a small emerald pendant—gifted by her husband—rested neatly on her neck.
"You don't have to apologize to me, Cassy," Elizabeth replied with a forced smile. "Elena's the one who deserves the apology." She tilted her chin towards her daughter who was rather sullen, her blue dinner gown shimmering as she shifted. Gold jewelry lined her neck and wrists, her taste always leaning toward the extravagant. "Isn't that right, Elena?" she drawled.
Cassandra's gaze moved to Elena, who had been unnervingly quiet since they arrived. Normally, even when Damian was absent, she stayed bright and cheerful. But tonight…
Feeling the weight of everyone's stares, Elena bit the inside of her cheek as her hand tightened around the fabric of her dress beneath the table. Damian didn't show up. She had refused—absolutely refused—to believe he truly had a wife. She thought he was bluffing this morning.
She had chosen her dress carefully—a deep red dinner gown with a high slit revealing her toned legs, a neckline emphasizing her full cleavage. Her makeup was immaculate. She even tweeted a selfie, expecting Damian to notice.
Yet he didn't come.
And now his parents acted as if they had no idea he was claiming to be married? Ridiculous.
That skinny bitch—whoever she was—couldn't possibly be real.
Elena's eyes stung. Damian had called the girl his wife. His eyes had glimmered with amusement when he said it. Not the eyes of someone joking.
"Why has Damian gotten a wife without me knowing about it?" she blurted, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Even then, she couldn't hold back the tears gathering in her eyes.
Her mother blinked rapidly. "Elena? Darling, you must be tired. Damian would never do something so reckless," Elizabeth said quickly, attempting to smooth things over. "You've been extremely busy. You need rest."
"I saw her today," Elena whispered, wiping at the large tears that began to fall. "Damian's wife."
Lewis Thorn straightened and raised a hand. Immediately, a middle-aged man emerged from behind the curtain—Butler Jeffrey, the Thorn family's trusted servant.
"How did this happen?" Mr. Thorn asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"I delivered the details to Young Master Damian's lawyer, just as you instructed," the butler whispered discreetly into Lewis Thorn's ear. "I'm afraid the error came from your end."
A mistake? Mr. Thorn scowled. He would never have switched Elena's name with another.
"Elena, don't cry. I'll personally question Damian," he promised. "This shouldn't be taken seriously."
Cassandra nodded supportively. "Damian isn't foolish enough to choose anyone other than you," she said gently. "Come here, dear."
Elena dabbed her eyes carefully to avoid ruining her makeup, then stood and walked around the table. Cassandra pulled her close, patting her back with the warmth of a mother-in-law Elena had long dreamed of earning.
At that moment, the doors opened. Damian stepped inside.
The air shifted instantly. His presence carried weight—a cool, commanding aura that silenced the entire room. Lucas followed closely behind him.
After dropping off Alina, they had driven straight here, though traffic slowed them down.
Damian took his seat beside his father without a word. His mother and Elena sat across from him. He frowned at the arrangement. "What an odd setup," he muttered, adjusting his golden-rimmed glasses.
Elena tensed and gripped Cassandra's hand—a silent reminder of what they'd just discussed.
"Damian," Elizabeth began sharply, "I heard you've taken in a woman. I assume it's one of those flings throwing themselves at you like cheap sluts."
Damian raised his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Elena's. She tattled on him.
Now that he properly looked at her, she seemed strangely plain compared to his little wife. What was he thinking now?—comparing the two? Elena was covered in makeup, while Alina had been bare-faced…natural, just the way he likes it.
A faint heat crept up his neck as the memory of his wife in his lounge flashed through his mind—her scolding, her closeness.
BADUMP!!
Elena's heart hammered against her ribcages under his intense stare.
God, he was so attractive. She thought.
"Yes," Damian finally said.
The room froze.
"She's not a fling," he added calmly. "And she's definitely not cheap. Don't ever speak about my wife like that, Mrs. Vaughn."
Elizabeth's jaw dropped.
Elena's face drained of color, disbelief flooding her expression.
Cassandra exchanged glances with her husband. "What is going on?" she demanded.
Mr. Vaughn's face turned red. "Mr. Thorn, if your son has grown tired of our daughter, then this alliance ends tonight. And every share we hold in your major companies will be withdrawn—"
"Isn't it a little early to say that, Mr. Vaughn?" Damian cut in with a mocking smile as he played with a drumstick. "Sounds like you were trying to sell your daughter to me in the first place if that's your first concern after I spoke my mind."
"Damian!" Cassandra snapped.
"Yes, Mother?" he replied coolly.
He was clearly enjoying their shock.
"You bastard!" Mr. Vaughn exploded. "How dare you lead our daughter on, use her, then discard her like trash!" he yelled, sweat dripping off his face as his heart throbbed loudly in his ears. He almost gave away the fact that he was here for the connection and nothing more.
Damian bit into the meat, unbothered. These business marriages were transactional. Mr. Vaughn clearly didn't care about Elena's feelings—only his gains. A greedy oaf.
"Gregory, watch yourself," Lewis Thorn warned. Even though Damian was partially at fault, he wouldn't tolerate anyone insulting his son. After all, this mess stemmed from his own mistake.
"Damian." His father's voice softened but held authority.
Damian turned. Despite everything, he respected his parents deeply.
"Jeffrey informed me of the issue," Mr. Thorn explained. "The Grays had sent a package while I was preparing Elena's documents which was supposed to be sent to your lawyer. Everything got mixed up and Alina Gray's name was delivered instead."
"And?" Damian's jaw tightened.
"It was a contract marriage sent to the wrong individual. It was supposed to be Elena—not Alina."
Silence fell.
Damian stiffened as the puzzle pieces clicked. The letter. The photo. The plea from the Gray family head. His father had probably placed the drafted contract inside the same package where Alina's was kept. Not only that, the clause binding them "till death." His father had intended Elena to be his bride all along.
Elena's lips curled in satisfaction. She had been right. She was the one meant for Damian—not some skinny, underfed nobody. The thought of her made Elena shiver.
Cassandra noticed the Vaughns' smug expressions, then looked at her son—grinning faintly. She knew him. When he smiled like that, something unexpected always followed.
"The deed is done," Damian said finally. "Alina Gray willingly signed the contract to be my wife and mother of my children. We'll be hosting a wedding soon. Everyone here would be invited, VIPs to be precise ."
Elena felt the ground vanish beneath her feet. It was crumbling. "Damian… don't tell me that after all these years, you were never planning to be my—"
"Oh please, Elena," Damian cut in coldly. "It was all in your head."
Her breath hitched. Tears blurred her vision.
"You were always in my business. You were the one chasing me. Not the other way around." His eyes flicked to Lucas. "In fact, I think Lucas has a crush on you."
Lucas nearly choked. Why was his boss roping him into the mess he has caused?
SLAP!
Elizabeth's palm cracked across Damian's cheek. "How dare you toy with my daughter's feelings!" she screamed, voice trembling. "Cassandra! Say something! Don't just stand there acting all coy—"
"Enough, Elizabeth!" Cassandra snapped, fury blazing in her eyes. "Who gave you the audacity to hit my son, you wretch!"
Elena stumbled back, her world collapsing. All because of that girl—Alina. Only if she hadn't come into the picture, Damian would have been hers. She was never supposed to be part of this.
"Whatever decision my son makes, I stand by him," Cassandra declared fiercely. "Do you know why? Because he is my son."
Elena's knees buckled, and Lucas caught her before she hit the floor. He gulped. His boss was heartless. Brutally honest. Even toward a woman who practically spent her youth with him.
Damian rose to his feet.
His expression was cold, unreadable, untouched by the chaos he had caused.
"You can pull your investments, Mr. Vaughn," he said quietly. "We won't lose a dime. But I can't say the same for what you'll lose in return."
Without looking back, he walked out.
Lucas followed him quickly.
The room remained quiet in shock.