Chapter 10 My brother’s pretty wife.
Damian’s POV
I hadn’t looked at her since the wedding, not even once.
Not her face. Not her eyes, not even the shape of her shadow when she walked past me in a room.
I kept myself buried in work, locked away in my own wing of the mansion, avoiding anything that would make me come in contact with her.
Because avoiding her was much easier.
It was easier to pretend she wasn’t there. Easier to pretend she didn’t exist.
Because she was the one thing I shouldn’t want, and the one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about.
The girl my brother tossed at me like some unwanted deal.
The girl I was forced to stand beside at the altar.
The girl who was trembling when she said vows that were meant for someone else.
The girl whose scent never left my nostrils.
I loosened my collar and let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
I needed air. I needed distance. I needed everything that wasn’t her.
But the moment I stepped out of the room, something in the mansion shifted.
Like the air changed. Like the lights dimmed. Like the walls were holding their breath.
I froze at the top of the steps. She was there.
Far off, walking toward the south wing… her wing.
She walked gracefully, her footsteps almost didn’t make a sound. But I felt her before I saw her.
Isla Bennetti. My… wife.
The words tasted wrong and heavy and dangerous.
She didn’t see me, but I saw her.
She walked slowly, holding something in her hands… maybe her phone or maybe nothing.
Her head was bowed, her hair falling to the other side, hiding half of her face.
She looked tired and small and way too fragile for the world she’s thrown into.
My chest tightened and I cursed under my breath.
I should’ve turned around, should’ve gone back to my room, or maybe kept walking…
But my legs wouldn’t move… no when she looked like that, not when she moved like that.
Not even when she breathed like that.
Something hot and sharp stirred under my ribs.
Something like possession. It clicked too easily and deep.
I hated it. I hated that I was there at all.
And I hated that she could make me feel anything… after everything.
After the switch, the lies, and the mess Dante dumped on me.
I gripped the railing, my knuckles whitening.
Dante knew what he was doing. Leaving me with her. Leaving her with me.
He didn’t care about how complicated this would get.
He didn’t even care about what it would do to her or me.
He just walked away from the marriage he didn’t want…
…and pushed her into my hands.
She was like a punishment coated in a gift.
I had to stay cold for days, nights, and hours that dragged and dragged.
I was polite, and formal. But at the same time cold enough that she wouldn’t try to talk to me.
Cold enough that she kept her eyes lowered whenever I entered a room.
Cold enough that she'd start to believe she meant nothing.
It was safer that way for her, for me, and for the entire twisted situation.
At least that was what I kept telling myself.
But when she turned the corner that night, heading toward the south wing, something inside me snapped.
She paused, but only for a second.
Her shoulders stiffened, the way they’d stiffened when
they could feel eyes on them… even if they don’t know where the eyes are.
She didn’t turn around or looked in my direction.
But she knew… like she felt me. The same way I felt her.
My heart dropped hard in my chest, painfully.
She took another step, then another, and each one of it moved something inside of me.
She was going to disappear into the south wing. And
when she does, I wouldn’t see her again for days. Or maybe weeks.
I didn’t know what came over me, not like I planned to move, but I couldn’t stop myself.
My feet moved first, down the hall. Slowly and silently.
Every step pulled me closer to her.
She turned at the exact moment I reached the center of the hallway.
Her eyes lifted. And for the first time since the wedding… she looked straight into my eyes.
My chest burned.
She froze, her lips parted slightly, and her fingers tightened around her phone.
I stopped a few steps from her, but close enough to hear her breath.
Close enough to see the fear in her eyes, and also something else…
Like she was trying to hide something. I kept my face cold and unreadable.
“Mrs. Romano.”
Her breath hitched when I spoke.
Her voice was small… but steady. “Good… good evening.”
Evening.
It was already past midnight. She didn’t correct herself, and her eyes still didn’t leave mine.
She didn’t take any step backward or forward.
And that alone made my jaw tighten. “Couldn’t sleep?” I asked.
She swallowed. “No.”
That word dragged across the air, soft and low.
A nerve in my jaw twitched. I shouldn’t do this.
I shouldn’t be standing here, looking at her like this.
But she wasn’t moving and neither was I.
Her haze lowered just for a second… to my collar, to my hands, and the space between us shifted again.
“Did you need anything?” She whispered.
Need?
The word hit harder than it should. I stepped closer.
Her back hit the wall behind her, a quiet inhale escaped her lungs.
She didn’t look scared, she looked overwhelmed.
“I didn’t call you,” I said quietly. “I didn’t need anything.”
I lied. A stupid, reckless lie.
Her lashes trembled. “I… I heard something earlier.”
“What did you hear?”
Her breath caught, but only for a moment.
She didn’t answer, she didn’t look away either.
She held my stare which was more dangerous than anything she could’ve said.
This girl… she didn’t know how to hide her emotions.
Not from me. Not from anyone who knew how to read silence.
And I had read silence my whole life.
I leaned closer, just a little and her breath stuttered.
I could feel her fear, her uncertainty, and her confusion.
But beneath it…
I felt like there was something else she didn’t admit.
She felt me. She didn’t know why… but she felt me.
My voice came out low and controlled. “Are you scared of me?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak or blink.
Isla wasn’t a good liar. Her silence was enough.
I exhaled slowly, letting the cold build inside me.
Letting the distance settle even if we stood inches away.
“I told you,” I murmured, “You don’t have a reason to be scared of me.”
Another lie, a cruel one.
Because if she knew what I knew…. If she understood the danger under all this… fear would be the only thing left of her.
I straightened, forcing myself to step back.
She still didn’t move, not even an inch.
That small, stubborn stillness made that made heat crawl up my spine.
She didn’t leave or step away, she just stood there, looking at me like she was waiting.
Like she was waiting for something, like she was teasing me.
And I hated how much I responded to it.
I forced myself to speak. “It’s late. Go to bed.”
Her eyes flickered. Whether it’s disappointment or relief. I couldn’t tell.
She nodded slowly but still didn’t walk away.
That hesitation drove nails into my skin. I stepped past her, the scent of her hair brushed the air between us.
She shivered and I felt it.
I didn’t look back as I walked away, I check if she was watching me.
But I felt her eyes on my back. She didn’t really know who I was, not really, not yet.
And when she finds out…
I didn’t know what would break first… her trust or my restraint.
I reached the end of the hallway, hand hovering over the doorknob to my phone when my phone buzzed.
Unknown number. One message.
“How long do you think she won’t notice?”
My blood froze. Notice… what?
My grip tightened around my phone as I read the message again.
A second message came in instantly.
“You’re running out of time, Damian… aren’t you?”
I turned sharply, staring down the dark hallway where
Isla still stood, barely visible in the dim light.
Was someone watching me? Watching her?
Watching us both?
My heart slammed once, then hard. Who the hell was sending these messages?
My jaw clenched. The question cut straight through the silence.
“Was someone already telling her the truth?”