Chapter 10 INSOLENSE.
\~~~SERENA.
“Aunt?” Ryan scoffed, taking a step back, like the word itself had slapped him.
Of course, he was shocked. For four years, I had been soft with him, careful and quiet. I bent myself into whatever shape he wanted just to keep him from leaving. I never questioned him, never raised my voice, and never asked for more than he was willing to give.
That version of me was dead.
So I took a step closer, crossing my arms over my chest, and grounding myself in the tremor running through my body.
“Yes,” I said calmly. “Aunt. I am going to be your aunt by marriage. Or am I wrong?”
His face turned red so fast that it almost scared me. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides, knuckles white, and his chest rising hard like he was trying not to explode.
“You are so shameless,” he spat.
I lifted a brow. “Oh?”
“Of all the men in the world,” he thundered, “you chose my uncle? Have you no morals? That man is almost twice your age, you slut!”
The word hit me sharply and ugly.
My throat tightened, and for a second, just one, I felt it. The pain, the humiliation, and the echo of every time I had swallowed my hurt just to keep him pleased.
I refused to let it show.
I wiped it away with a smile so forced that it almost hurt my face.
“Fifteen years,” I corrected lightly. “Since accuracy seems important to you. And excuse me, Ryan,” I laughed, a hollow, hysterical sound that surprised even me. “You? You, who kept a whole wife and family hidden from me, want to lecture me about morals?”
His mouth opened and then closed again..
“Oh, how stupid you are,” I added softly.
He took a step forward. “You don’t understand…”
“No,” I cut in. “You don’t understand. You lied to me every single day. You looked me in the eyes and told me you loved me, while going home to another woman, and a child.”
His jaw clenched. “It was different.”
I actually laughed this time. “Different how?”
“I am a man,” he snapped. “Men do things like that. It’s not the same. I never stopped caring about you.”
“So that makes it understandable?” I tilted my head. “Your betrayal comes with an excuse, but my choice doesn’t?”
“You did this to hurt me,” he shot back. “You want revenge.”
“And?” I shrugged. “Isn’t that allowed too?”
“You’re disgusting,” he said. “Sleeping your way into power.”
I stepped closer again, refusing to back down. “Almost twice my age, right?” I smiled sweetly. “Excuse me but if he were fifty years older, I’d still marry him.”
His breathing went wild. I could see it now. The control slipping and the calm mask he always wore around me was cracking.
“You’re saying that just to provoke me.”
“No,” I said. “I’m saying it because I mean it.”
He laughed, sharp and bitter. “You think he wants you? You think you’re special? You are just a tool to him.”
“Funny,” I said quietly. “That’s exactly how you treated me.”
That was when he lost it.
In one fast movement, he lunged forward, his hand grabbing my arm and shoving me back hard. My spine hit the wall, pain shooting through my shoulder as his body caged me in.
“Don’t push me, Serena,” he growled.
My heart slammed against my ribs, fear flashing hot and fast but I refused to show it.
“Get your hands off me,” I said.
“You think you won?” he hissed. “You think wearing his ring makes you untouchable?”
“It already does,” I replied.
His grip tightened. “You were nothing without me.”
I stared right into his eyes. “And yet here I am still and standing, still chosen.”
His face twisted. “I loved you.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You owned me. There is a difference.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. His breath was hot against my face. My hands trembled, but I kept them at my sides, refusing to beg.
Then a voice cut through the air like a blade.
“Step away from her.”
Damien.
Ryan froze and stood there in shock.
Ryan’s eyes flicked from me to the doorway just as Damien entered the kitchen with the rest of the family spilling in behind him like silent witnesses to a crime already committed.
For a split second, Ryan didn’t move. Neither did I.
Then Damien crossed the space between them in two long, lethal strides.
Before Ryan could even pull away, Damien grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against the cabinet so hard that the wood rattled. The sound echoed. Ryan groaned, and the breath punched clean out of him.
My heart jumped but not from fear.
“W… what are you doing?” Ryan cried, scrambling uselessly, his hands clawing at Damien’s wrist.
Damien didn’t even look at him.
“I should be asking you that,” he said coldly. “What do you think you were doing…” his grip tightened, “with my fiancée?”
The word landed heavily in the room.
Ryan choked, gasping, begging him to let go. Damien didn’t answer. He kept him pinned there, unmoved, and unbothered, as if Ryan weighed nothing at all.
Around us, soft murmurs broke out. Shocked breaths, someone whispered his name, another whispered mine but I barely heard them.
My eyes drifted past the adults, past the tension until I saw him.
Ryan’s son.
The small and confused three-year-old was standing at the entrance of the kitchen, clutching the leg of his mother, his wide eyes staring at his father being crushed against a cabinet.
Something twisted painfully in my chest.
I moved without thinking.
“Damien,” I said softly, stepping closer and tapping his arm.
He didn’t turn at first.
“It’s enough,” I continued, my voice quieter now. “Please.”
That child already had to grow up with a father like Ryan. He didn’t need to watch this either. He didn’t need to learn violence before he learned words.
For a moment, Damien stayed still, his muscles locked, and jaw tight.
Then, slowly, he released Ryan.
Ryan collapsed forward, coughing hard, gripping the counter for balance. His face was red, his eyes watery, and his pride was shattered into pieces all over the tiled floor.
Damien straightened and finally looked at him.
“You will apologize,” he said.
Ryan laughed hoarsely. “For what?”
“For touching her,” Damien replied. “For raising your voice at her. For forgetting your place.”
“She is your aunt and you will address her with respect.”
Ryan lifted his head, eyes blazing. “She is no aunt of mine.”
The room went deadly quiet.
Damien took one step forward.
“I will not repeat myself,” he said, his voice calm but terrifying. “Bow before her and apologize for your insolence.”
My breath caught as I felt every eye swing toward me in judgment, curiosity, and resentment.
Well, who cares?