Chapter 57
Chapter 57
Kayna’s POV
The city looked different that evening—soft, bruised by twilight, the kind of hour that made decisions feel heavier than they should. Kayna stood by her apartment window, her phone still in her hand, Damian’s words replaying over and over in her mind.
I need your help, Kayna. The clause states that the heir to my father’s company must be married and have a child to maintain ownership.
He’d said it so calmly over dinner, his tone controlled, his expression unreadable. But beneath that calm, she’d sensed the desperation—the same one that had flickered in his eyes when he’d kissed her weeks ago in LA. The kiss that neither of them had ever spoken of again.
Now, he wanted to marry her. For convenience. For an image. For a contract.
She exhaled shakily, setting the phone down on her counter before she paced across the room. Her head buzzed. She was his assistant, not his lifeline. Yet she couldn’t shake the look in his eyes when he asked—part pleading, part something else she didn’t dare name.
By the time she grabbed her phone again, her fingers were trembling slightly. She scrolled through her contacts and found Elena Roberts. The last time they’d talked was weeks ago, back when her life still had clear borders.
Kayna pressed “call.”
The familiar warm voice answered on the second ring.
“Kayna? Oh my God, it’s been ages! How are you?”
Kayna tried to smile, but it came out weak. “That’s… a long answer. Do you have a few minutes? I really need to talk to someone.”
“Of course I do. Hold on—let me pour wine. This sounds serious.”
Kayna laughed softly, the sound easing something in her chest. She could almost picture Elena—hair messy in a bun, perched on her sofa, eyes sharp and compassionate. They’d known each other since university, back when Kayna was the quiet one and Elena was the loud, fearless spirit who made everyone laugh.
“So,” Elena began, the sound of clinking glass faint in the background. “What’s going on?”
Kayna hesitated. “It’s about my boss. Damian Marshall.”
“Ohhh, him,” Elena said knowingly. “The very rich, very annoyingly handsome one you never stop talking about but keep insisting is ‘just work.’”
Kayna groaned. “Elena, not helping.”
“Sorry, sorry. Go on. What did he do this time?”
“He… asked me to marry him.”
The silence on the line was so loud it almost made Kayna laugh. Almost.
“Come again?”
“He asked me to marry him,” Kayna repeated, each word tasting stranger than the last. “Not for love or anything—God, that sounds insane—it’s for a business clause in his father’s will. He has to be married to keep control of the company.”
Elena whistled low. “Damn. That’s… not something you hear every day. And he asked you?”
“Yes. Me.”
“Why?”
Kayna sank onto the couch, resting her forehead against her hand. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m discreet. Or because he trusts me. Julian—his business partner—probably suggested it. He said he needed someone he could rely on. Someone who wouldn’t leak it.”
“Hmm,” Elena mused. “And how do you feel about it?”
Kayna hesitated, the question slicing right through her defenses. “That’s the problem. I don’t know.”
“Try me.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s not the first time something’s happened between us.”
There was a beat of silence. “Define something.”
Kayna’s voice dropped. “We kissed. In LA. It wasn’t planned—it just… happened.”
Elena’s tone immediately softened. “And now it’s complicated.”
“Exactly,” Kayna whispered. “It wasn’t just a kiss, Elena. Not to me, anyway. I felt something. I think he did too, but we both pretended it never happened. And now he’s asking me to marry him. I don’t even know where to begin processing that.”
“Sweetheart…” Elena’s voice turned thoughtful. “Do you want him?”
Kayna froze, staring at the wall. The truth hovered just out of reach, shimmering like heat on glass. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’m drawn to him, yes. But Damian—he’s complicated. Intense. Half the time I feel like I don’t even know who he really is. And if I agree to this, everything between us—whatever it is—will get worse. I’ll be tied to him in ways I can’t undo.”
Elena sighed softly. “Then don’t decide tonight. You’re too close to it. Let yourself breathe, okay?”
Kayna nodded, even though her chest still felt tight. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Listen, if you do go through with it, make sure it’s for the right reasons—not guilt, not sympathy, not because you think you’re saving him. Men like Damian… they know how to draw people into their storm.”
Kayna managed a small, sad smile. “You’re still terrifyingly good at reading me.”
“That’s my job as your unofficial therapist. Now get some rest. And call me before you do anything dramatic.”
Kayna laughed weakly. “I promise.”
After they hung up, the quiet returned, heavier now. Kayna stared out the window again, city lights blinking like restless thoughts. She replayed Damian’s voice in her head—the steadiness of it when he’d said her name, the hesitation that cracked through only when he asked the question.
She knew he was desperate, that he wouldn’t have come to her otherwise. But still—why her?
She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling the faint echo of her heartbeat, the same one that had gone wild when he leaned in that night and kissed her like he’d been holding back for years.
This wasn’t just about business anymore.
It was about everything that could break if she said yes.
…..
The next morning, the air in the office buzzed before she even walked in. Phones rang, whispers spread, and the usual polished calm had been replaced by something sharp, electric.
Kayna barely made it past the lobby before she saw the first headline flash across the building’s main screen:
“Marshall Industries Clause Leaked: Heir Must Marry to Retain Control.”
“Is Ixora Vale Damian Marshall’s Mystery Bride?”
Her heart stuttered. The photos showed Damian beside Ixora at the gala, frozen mid-smile, his hand on her back. The perfect illusion of a couple.
Kayna’s stomach dropped.
No.
Not this.
She hurried into the elevator, trying to ignore the murmurs that followed her—snippets of speculation, pitying glances, the usual office gossip sharpened into knives. By the time she reached her floor, she’d schooled her expression into composure, but inside, her pulse was chaos.
Julian was in the hallway, barking orders at someone on the phone. When he saw her, he ended the call quickly and sighed.
“Morning, Kayna. I see you’ve caught the news.”
“I did,” she said evenly. “Is it true?”
He gave her a look that almost seemed apologetic. “The leak, yes. The rest…” He shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to manage before it blows up further. Damian’s upstairs dealing with PR.”
“And Ixora?”
Julian’s mouth twitched in something like annoyance. “Already milking it. She made a statement saying she ‘wishes Damian the best in all his future endeavors.’ Which, as you can imagine, only makes the press hungrier.”
Kayna’s grip tightened on the file in her hands. “So now everyone thinks she’s the one.”
“Exactly.”
A flash of emotion passed through her chest—anger, confusion, something dangerously close to hurt. She nodded stiffly and walked toward her desk.
By midday, the whispers hadn’t stopped. Every few minutes, someone’s phone buzzed with another headline or speculative article. Kayna tried to drown herself in work, but her mind kept replaying Damian’s expression at the restaurant, the quiet urgency in his voice.
When his office door opened around noon, she looked up instinctively. Damian stepped out, looking every bit the composed executive, though she noticed the faint tension in his jaw. Their eyes met briefly, and she could see it there—the storm behind his calm.
He gave her a subtle nod, a silent request for patience.
Before she could respond, another voice interrupted.
“Well, looks like the empire’s in flames and we’re all just here to watch,” Alex said lightly as he sauntered down the hallway. His tone was teasing, but his eyes flicked toward her with deliberate interest. “Rough morning, Miss Scott?”
Kayna managed a tight smile. “You could say that.”
Alex leaned against her desk, too close, his cologne faint but unmistakable. “You know, I never understood how Damian manages to keep things so… private. Seems that little mystery’s out of the bag.”
“Alex—”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking. “Relax. I’m just saying, if the rumors are true, I might need to start wedding shopping. Can’t have my brother marrying just anyone.”
Kayna glared. “I think you’ve read enough tabloids for the day.”
He chuckled softly, pushing off her desk. “Maybe. But I can’t help wondering, Kayna—if it’s not Ixora, then who?”
Before she could answer, Damian’s voice cut through the hallway, low and warning. “Alex.”
Alex turned, his smirk only deepening. “Brother. Always a pleasure.”
“Inside. Now.”
Alex’s eyes lingered on Kayna for a beat longer before he strolled into Damian’s office.
Kayna watched them disappear behind the glass door, her pulse racing. Through the translucent walls, their silhouettes moved sharply—gestures tense, heated.
Whatever was happening in there, it wasn’t brotherly.
The rest of the day passed in fragments—Damian in back-to-back calls, Julian making arrangements, the staff whispering about damage control. Kayna barely spoke to Damian, but she felt his gaze once or twice when he passed through the hall, that unspoken awareness that always hummed between them.
By evening, the office had emptied. She stayed behind, finishing a report, the city lights glittering through the glass. But even as she typed, her mind drifted back to the conversation with Elena. To Damian’s face at the restaurant. To the question that still lingered like a bruise.
If he asked her again—after all this—would she say yes?
She leaned back, exhaling shakily.
Because the truth was, even now, even after the headlines and the uncertainty, part of her wanted to protect him. And that terrified her more than anything.
Outside, thunder rolled across the skyline. Somewhere down the hall, Damian’s office light flicked off.
Kayna sat alone in the dim glow of her monitor, staring at the reflection of herself—caught between duty and something dangerously close to love.
And in that stillness, one thought anchored itself like a whisper she couldn’t ignore:
This was only the beginning.