Chapter 5 OUR MARRIAGE, SWEETHEART.
For a heartbeat, silence stretched between us. The kind of silence that didn’t feel empty. It crackled sharply, and alive.
Damien’s gaze pinned me like he was dissecting every thought that dared cross my mind.
Then, finally, he spoke.
“Very well, Serena Evans. You want a deal with the devil?” His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You’ll have to prove you can handle the fire.”
My breath hitched. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t give handouts for free. Not loyalty, not rings and especially not my name.” He rose from his seat, every inch of his frame radiating power.
“If you want me to burn them, you’ll have to convince me you’re worth burning for.”
My breath hitched as he came closer, each step heavy but unhurried. The air shifted thick, charged.
When he reached me, his gaze lingered on my lips, and before I could move, his thumb brushed against them slowly, and deliberately. The rough pad traced my lower lip, pressing lightly, as if testing how far he could go.
My pulse thundered. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My lips parted under his touch, betraying the sharp hitch of my breath. His eyes darkened knowingly, and dangerous before he finally drew his hand away, leaving heat in his wake.
Then, like nothing had happened, he dropped into the chair opposite me, the ghost of his touch still burning on my skin.
His gaze dragged over me, steady, unblinking. “What? You don’t think I’ll make you beg?”
I arched my brow, refusing to look away. “You think I’d ever beg a man like you?”
A cold, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re desperate, Serena. Desperate women always beg when the stakes are high enough.”
That stung. But I leaned forward, voice low, firm, and calm. “Then you should remember you’re not the only man left in your family.”
His smirk deepened darkly, and lethally. “No,” he drawled, “but I’m the only one worth your time.”
Damn him. Damn his confidence. Damn the truth in his words.
My jaw tightened. “What do you want?”
His eyes glinted, wicked and calm.
“Now you’re talking.”
His eyes didn’t waver. “If I agree to this… it won’t just be for show.”
My brows knitted. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, voice low and subtle. “You won’t just be my wife on paper, Serena. You’ll be mine in every sense that matters. Publicly. Privately. Behind closed doors, there won’t be an act. You’ll wear my name, my ring, and you’ll play the part until it becomes your reality.”
My pulse kicked. “You don’t mean…”
“I mean,” he cut in, eyes darkening, “No one… Not even you, forget who you belong to once you walk into my world. You asked a dangerous man to be your husband. Now you’ll live with what that means.”
My throat tightened. “And if I refuse?”
He smiled then, slow, lethal, and breathtaking.
“Then you walk out that door alone. And the next time you face my family, you’ll do it without my shield, or my name to protect you.”
His words hit like a strike. Precise, merciless, final.
And still, beneath the storm of my thoughts, one question pulsed louder than fear.
What would it cost me… to say yes?
No, what had I expected when I asked this man to marry me?
This is Damien Hale.
The one name that makes boardrooms go silent.
The man my ex once called ruthless.
The uncle every Hale fears… yet depends on.
The one who holds their empire in his palm and could crush it just as easily.
This is my cue to stand up and run the fuck out of this room. He wouldn’t hold me back, and I knew that much.
But, instead…
“I’m not here to negotiate,” I said quietly, voice steady even as my pulse thundered in my ears. “You want a wife who plays the part. You'll get one. In public. In private. Everywhere.”
His brows lifted, faintly intrigued. “You’re agreeing to my terms… just like that?”
He had probably expected that I bolted too. Stupid Serena, stupid!
I drew a breath, chin lifting. “I’m agreeing because I know what I want. And because I don’t have the luxury of walking away.”
A smirk touched his lips, slow and dangerous. “Careful, Serena. Once you step into my world, you don’t get to pretend you didn’t know what you were signing.”
“Good,” I said. “Then we understand each other.”
Without another word, Damien rose from his seat, his movements smooth, and deliberate, the kind of control that made my stomach tighten. He reached for his phone, dialed, and waited.
“Evelyn,” his voice shifted, clipped and authoritative. “Schedule a press conference for tomorrow morning. Ten sharp. Yes. Clear my schedule for the whole day too.”
My brows furrowed, “Press conference? What… Why?”
He hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket before his gaze cut back to me. “What do you mean, why?”
His lips curved into that maddening smirk again. “We’re announcing our marriage, sweetheart.”
My breath caught, pulse stuttering. Marriage. Tomorrow. Just like that.
He was going to do in one day what Ryan couldn’t do in four damn years.
He was already turning away, sliding his hand into his pocket, his voice calm and final. Then, as if the last nail in my sanity needed hammering, he glanced over his shoulder, that dangerous smirk tugging at his lips.
“I hope you’re not camera-shy, soon to be Mrs. Hale.”
Oh God. I’ve just signed a death wish. Someone please tell me I didn’t just agree to marry a Hale again.
Fantastic, Serena. Absofuckinglutely fantastic!