Chapter 36 - The Price of Silence
Chapter 36 - The Price of Silence
The conference hall trembled with noise. Reporters lunged, cameras clicked in a frenzy, microphones shoved forward like spears. The folder in Damian’s grip felt radioactive—its weight a curse.
Serena’s hand clutched his sleeve, her voice breaking. “Damian… what did you do?”
Her eyes were wide, desperate, demanding. He wanted to answer, but with dozens of lenses aimed at them, every word would become a headline, every pause an indictment.
He squeezed her hand. “Not here,” he murmured.
“Not here?” she repeated, her voice rising in panic. “They’re saying you paid me to marry you, Damian. That this was all a deal! And you’re just—silent?”
Isla’s laugh rang out, sharp as shattered glass. “See? Even she doesn’t know. What else have you kept from her, Damian? What other truths have you buried?”
The crowd roared louder, feeding on the tension. Damian’s silence became their evidence, Serena’s anguish their entertainment.
Finally, Damian turned to the sea of reporters, his voice booming. “This circus ends now. My wife and I will not be tried in the court of public spectacle.”
But the questions hurled like stones:
“Damian, is there a contract?”
“Serena, how much were you paid?”
“Are you leaving him?”
Serena’s chest constricted. His refusal to answer was killing her. The cameras didn’t matter—she needed to know.
“Damian,” she whispered fiercely, tugging his arm, “if you stay silent, she wins. And I lose. We lose.”
His jaw clenched, muscles working. He turned to her, eyes burning with a mixture of desperation and guilt. For the first time, she saw fear there.
“I’ll explain everything,” he said under his breath, “but not here. Not like this.”
The reporters pressed closer. Security tried to push them back, but Isla only smiled wider, her eyes glittering with triumph.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Isla announced, her voice carrying above the chaos, “if Damian Wolfe won’t tell you the truth, don’t worry—I will. Tomorrow, ten a.m. sharp. My office. Bring your cameras. I’ll show you everything.”
The hall erupted. Reporters surged around her, chasing the promise of blood.
Damian pulled Serena toward the exit, his grip unyielding. She resisted for half a second, her gaze locked on him with betrayal, then let herself be dragged.
Outside, the car door slammed shut. The moment the glass sealed off the noise, Serena yanked her hand free.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” she said, her voice trembling, raw. “Tell me Isla is lying.”
Damian’s throat worked. His silence stretched into a knife’s edge.
Tears blurred her vision. “Damian…”
He finally spoke, his voice low, rough. “It started as a deal. A contract. Yes.”
Her heart cracked open.
“But it’s not what it is now,” he rushed on. “Not what we’ve become. Serena, you have to believe me—”
She pressed back against the leather seat, shaking her head as if the words could be undone.
“You… paid me,” she whispered. “All this time, and you never told me.”
Damian reached for her, but she recoiled. His hand hung in the air between them, useless.
And then, in the suffocating silence, Serena whispered the words that gutted him:
“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”
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