Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Ava’s POV

I woke up hoping that yesterday had been one long, twisted nightmare. That Vanessa hadn’t actually walked back into Damien’s life like a queen returning to her stolen throne. That she hadn’t looked at me like I was dirt clinging to her designer heels. That she hadn’t whispered poison wrapped in silk.

But when I stepped into the hallway that morning, the sound of her laugh floated through the mansion again—smooth, confident, dripping with entitlement.

A reminder that I was still trapped in this reality.

I paused at the staircase, gripping the railing to steady myself. My stomach tightened with a familiar, unwelcome fear. I wasn’t ready to face her again. Not after the way she humiliated me. Not after the way Damien just… let it happen.

I tried to convince myself that her words were meaningless, that Damien’s silence didn’t matter, that I wasn’t affected.

But my heart knew better.

When I entered the living room, I saw her immediately. Sitting on Damien’s favorite couch like it belonged to her, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her awareness. Like a predator sensing prey.

She was flipping through a luxury magazine, pretending she hadn’t been waiting for me.

Damien wasn’t there.

That made it worse.

“Good morning, Ava,” she said without lifting her eyes. Her tone was too sweet, too sharp—sugar laced with venom.

“Good morning,” I replied softly.

She finally looked up, her eyes sweeping over my outfit. Simple jeans and a T-shirt—comfortable, practical, and apparently offensive to someone like her.

“You know,” she said, tapping a manicured nail on the magazine, “you really should consider… elevating your appearance. Being around Damien requires a certain level of sophistication.”

Her smile stretched wider, crueler.

“Unless, of course, you’re not planning to be around for long.”

My breath hitched. “I—I didn’t realize my appearance was an issue.”

“Oh sweetie.” She stood, walking toward me with slow, calculated grace. “To him, it isn’t. Damien is far too kind to say anything that might hurt your feelings.”

She leaned closer.

“But to people like me? It tells a story.”

“A story?” I whispered.

“Yes.” Her eyes glittered. “A very predictable one.”

I forced myself not to look away. “What story is that?”

“That you’re temporary.”

The words hit like a slap.

I swallowed, trying to mask the sting. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh I know enough.” She stepped even closer—too close. I could smell her expensive perfume. “I know you’re on some sort of agreement with Damien. I know you were brought here under special circumstances. And I know,” she smirked, “that this isn’t the first time Damien’s had such… arrangements.”

My heart stopped. “Arrangements?”

She sighed dramatically, as if she was tired of explaining something so above my comprehension. “Please. Damien may act like he’s incapable of moving on, but trust me—he’s had other girls before you. Quiet, obedient, easily controlled. Girls who knew their place.”

She tilted her head, studying my shaking hands.

“You’re just another one on the list.”

My chest tightened painfully. I wanted to deny it—but how could I? I didn’t even know the full truth about Damien’s past. The unspoken parts of his life that he kept locked behind that cold, unreadable expression.

Vanessa walked past me, the click of her heels echoing through the room like a mocking rhythm.

“Damien doesn’t do relationships anymore,” she continued, brushing invisible dust off her dress. “Not real ones. Not since… well, since us.”

I flinched. She noticed.

She smiled.

“You didn’t know that, did you?” Her tone was condescending. “He doesn’t give his heart away. He just rents pieces of his time.”

My voice cracked. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I were.” Vanessa sighed, placing a hand dramatically on her chest. “But darling, you really should ask him. Ask him what happened with those other contract girls. Ask him where they are now.”

Her smile turned wicked.

“Ask him why none lasted more than a month.”

A cold wave washed over me.

Vanessa stepped closer again, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You think you’re special because he looks at you sometimes? Because he uses your name like it holds weight?” She chuckled. “You don’t know Damien. Not the real him. Not the Damien I was supposed to marry.”

I inhaled sharply.

There it was.

Her real intention.

Not to warn me.

Not to advise me.

To break me.

To crush whatever fragile connection existed between Damien and me.

“You’re trying to scare me,” I said, though my voice trembled with the truth I didn’t want her to see.

She raised a brow. “I don’t have to try. You’re already scared.”

A sudden bitterness coated my tongue. “If you and Damien were so perfect, why aren’t you two together anymore?”

A dark flicker crossed her eyes—anger, regret, something complicated—but it vanished before I could read it clearly.

She smiled again, though tighter this time. “Because we made mistakes. But unlike some people, I actually belong in Damien’s world. I built pieces of it with him.”

I exhaled shakily. “Then why are you here?”

The question hit home. Vanessa’s smile faltered. But only for a second.

“Because I care about him,” she replied smoothly. “And because he needs someone who understands him. Someone who isn’t just… passing through.”

My chest constricted. The truth in her words—or the illusion of it—wrapped around me like chains.

“You think you understand Damien?” I whispered.

She stepped back, giving me a long, pitying look. “More than you ever will.”

The sound of footsteps approached, and my heart jumped. Damien appeared at the entrance, his expression unreadable.

Vanessa instantly transformed—her posture softer, her voice gentler. “Damien,” she said, smiling as if she hadn't just torn my self-worth apart. “I was just getting to know your… Ava.”

His eyes flicked to me. Concern flashed in them. He knew something was wrong.

“Ava,” he said quietly. “Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth, but Vanessa smoothly interjected, “She’s fine. We were just talking about how overwhelming this place can be for someone… unaccustomed to our world.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. “Vanessa.”

She shrugged innocently. “I was being friendly.”

Damien looked at me again. And God, the way he looked—soft, protective, searching—almost unraveled me. But the doubt Vanessa planted twisted inside my chest like a knife.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe I was temporary.

“Ava,” Damien said again, stepping toward me. “If she said something—"

“It’s fine,” I whispered.

His expression hardened. “It doesn’t look fine.”

“It is,” I insisted, stepping away. “I was just leaving.”

“Ava—”

I didn’t let him finish.

I walked out before the trembling in my voice betrayed me. Before he reached for me. Before Vanessa saw any more cracks she could pry open.

As I hurried down the hallway, tears burned behind my eyes—not because of Vanessa’s cruelty, but because part of me feared she wasn’t lying.

What if I was just another temporary girl?

What if Damien saw me exactly the way she said he did?

And worst of all…

What if I was already falling for someone who never intended to keep me?