Chapter 25: Finally Out
Ariel’s eyes fluttered open.
Her body ached everywhere—her thighs, her hips, even the shallow pain in her stomach where his grip had been merciless. She winced, clutching the sheets tighter around her trembling body.
For one second, she prayed it was all a nightmare.
But the soreness between her legs told her otherwise. The bruises on her skin told her otherwise. The way her chest rose and fell, fast and shaky, told her otherwise.
It was real.
Last night was real.
Her heart jumped when she turned her head. Damian sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, calm as if nothing had happened. He was scrolling through his phone, broad shoulders relaxed, a picture of control.
“Good morning,” he said without looking at her, his voice deep, rich, dangerous.
Ariel swallowed hard. “Y-you…” She pulled the sheet higher to her chest. “Last night—”
He finally turned, eyes locking on her. The calmness in his gaze made her stomach twist.
“What about last night?” His lips curled in a slow, taunting smirk. “You enjoyed it.”
Her cheeks burned with anger. “Enjoyed? You—” She bit down on the words, her voice breaking. “You were… brutal.”
Damian leaned closer, placing one hand on the headboard above her. His scent wrapped around her, intoxicating, dominant.
“I warned you, Ariel. I don’t do soft. I don’t do gentle. You’re mine, and I’ll take you however I please.”
Tears pricked her eyes, but she shook her head. “You can’t just… claim me like that.”
He chuckled, low and dark. “I already did.” His fingers trailed down the sheet, pulling it away inch by inch until her bruised skin was exposed. “Look at you. Marked. Owned. Every inch of you screams mine.”
Ariel gasped and shoved his hand away, her breath uneven. “You’re insane.”
Damian tilted his head, studying her like a predator studying prey. Then he whispered, close to her ear, making her shiver:
“No, little witch. I’m just yours. And you’re mine. That’s far more dangerous than insanity.”
Her chest heaved as she looked away, unable to hold his piercing stare. But no matter how much she tried to deny it, her body still trembled with the memory of him—of his raw hunger, of the way he broke past every wall she had.
And that terrified her more than anything.
Ariel’s POV
It had been a week.
A full week of being locked inside Damian’s house, under his constant eyes, under his rules. At first, I thought I would go crazy—but he broke me into his rhythm. The strangest part? I started to feel safer in his chaos than in the silence of being alone.
When the seventh day came, he finally allowed me to step out.
Not out of kindness—he hated the idea of me going anywhere without his shadow looming over me—but because he wanted the world to see.
He wanted them to know who I belonged to.
The papers were already signed.
I was no longer just Ariel—the girl trying to live a normal life. I was Ariel, wife of Damian Moretti, a man feared by many, respected by all.
\---
I clutched my bag tighter as Damian’s driver opened the car door. My heels touched the pavement outside my office building, and for the first time in weeks, I saw familiar faces again.
Whispers.
Stares.
Everywhere.
“Is that her?”
“She’s the one Damian married?”
“God, she looks so… ordinary.”
Their voices stabbed at me, but then I felt it—the heavy, protective presence of Damian right beside me. His hand rested low on my back, firm, possessive.
“Let them look,” he murmured near my ear, his voice carrying a warning edge. “They should know no one touches what’s mine.”
I froze when his lips brushed my temple. In front of everyone. No hesitation. No shame. He wasn’t hiding me—he was parading me.
\---
Inside, my coworkers straightened when I walked in. Even those who used to ignore me suddenly smiled politely. Some even stood to greet me.
“Good morning, Mrs. Moretti,” one whispered.
Mrs. Moretti.
The words rang in my head like a bell I couldn’t silence.
\---
Across the city, Lily fumed.
She sat on her pristine couch, her manicured nails drumming against her glass of wine. The news of Damian’s marriage spread like wildfire, and every drop of it burned her pride.
“That… girl?” she spat, shoving the wine glass aside. “He actually married her?”
Her lips curled, venomous. “No. He can’t possibly mean it. Damian doesn’t marry out of love. He must be… obsessed. And obsessions can be broken.”
She reached for her phone and dialed Ethan.
Ethan’s POV:
Her voice dripped with false sweetness, but I knew her well enough to hear the bitterness beneath.
“He’ll get tired of her, Ethan,” Lily purred. “You and I both know Damian. He doesn’t keep anyone for long.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, anger flooding my chest. “You don’t get it, Lily. He signed papers. He announced it. The city knows she’s his wife. He’s never done that before.”
She went silent, then hissed, “So what? You’re just going to give up? After everything you said about her?”
I slammed my fist against the table. “I didn’t give up! I—” My voice broke, rage clawing at me. “He stole her. And she let him.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone, chest heaving. My jaw clenched as one thought consumed me.
This wasn’t over.
Ariel’s POV
The day at work passed in a blur. Every time I lifted my head, I caught someone watching me—not with disdain anymore, but with fear. Respect.
Because I was no longer just Ariel.
I was his.
But as I sat in my office, staring at my reflection in the dark computer screen, a thought whispered inside me.
Had I lost myself? Or was this who I was meant to become?
That night, Damian entered the bedroom holding a sealed folder. His eyes glinted as he tossed it on the bed in front of me.
“Do you want to know who your mother really is?”