Scarred Seductress

Damage Control

Marina’s eyes fluttered open, a tired yawn escaping her as a small smile curved her lips. For the first time in years, she had actually spent the night in Damien’s room—just like she had always wanted. She stirred, hoping to find Damien beside her, only to meet emptiness. He was gone.

She sat up quickly, darting her eyes around the room, her fingers clutching the sheets to her chest.

“Damien?” she called out, hoping he’d at least be in the restroom—but he wasn’t.

She hopped off the bed as her heart sank.

Marina knew Damien too well to believe he could already be on his way out for another business trip that would last months. He disappeared like that. And she bet he only ever returned because of Quinn.

“Oh, f**k no…” she panicked, shoving her feet into the flops at the edge of the bed. She spotted her dress tossed over the couch, grabbed it, slipped it on, and was about to dash out when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Ma’am? Are you awake?” Her assistant’s voice rang out—desperate and urgent.

“What the hell do you want?” Marina snapped, biting down on her lip as she stormed to the door and yanked it open, coming face to face with her assistant.

The girl bowed.

“Have I not warned you never to—”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but… but you really need to see this,” she rushed, stretching out the iPad in her trembling hands, her terrified eyes urging Marina to look.

Marina rolled her eyes and snatched the device, glancing casually at the screen—until her eyes snapped wide.

“What… what is this?” she choked, her gaze flying to her assistant as she scrolled through countless screenshots. Gossip headlines. Speculations. Pictures from the pool incident. Claims that her husband was definitely having an affair with the woman from last night.

“I’m really sorry, ma’am… I tried to—”

Marina shoved the device back at her assistant, her breaths coming heavy as her fingers dug into her hair and she paced restlessly.

“And I’m doing my best to have everything taken down, but it seems someone is paying to keep it up… sabotaging all my efforts, ma’am,” the assistant stammered, earning herself a hard glare.

“I’m sorry, ma’am…”

“Stop f*****g apologizing, dummy,” Marina fumed, lifting her hand as if to strike the shaking girl—then hesitating. “Do everything to get rid of it.”

“I—I can only do something, ma’am, when I find out who… who is behind this.”

“Who else, dummy?” Marina snapped. “Of course this has everything to do with that slut. No wonder she was so desperate to attend the gala—making up lies about being my fan and all the nonsense she spewed last night.”

“I… I don’t think so, ma’am,” the assistant said carefully. “I mean, she has a lot to lose with such rumors.”

Marina’s eyes snapped to her, brow arching sharply, silently demanding an explanation.

“She’s an actress,” the assistant continued.

“And she’s at the peak of her career after moving to this city. Fueling a cheating rumor would ruin years of hard work… it could have her ostracized from the industry completely.”

Marina looked away, biting down on her lip as she processed the words. She was making sense. No woman would sacrifice such a career just to wreck a family. And even if she were interested in Damien, letting it explode so quickly would do her no good—would it?

“I think the only people with the power to go this far, after witnessing the chaos of last night, are your friends, ma’am…”

Marina looked up sharply, blinking hard as the words struck.

“They don’t like you… and—”

“Enough!” Marina cut in, anger bubbling in her chest at the mere thought that they had actually banded together to ruin her night—just because she had planned to parade Damien before them. How dare they.

“What’s the way out?” she asked, forcing a small smile as she shoved her anger aside. She would deal with them later. For now, she needed to fix the image of her perfect marriage.

“I… I think we need to reach out to her,” the assistant suggested.

Disgust twisted Marina’s face at the thought of contacting that woman again.

“She’s the only one who can clear the air, ma’am,” the assistant pressed. “We can have her hold a press conference—deny any affair with your husband, explain that he only entered the water to save her.”

“Oh, forget it—”

“That way, you can say she’s a family friend,” the assistant continued quickly. “People won’t twist her words about why Sir Damien risked himself for her. You’d not only restore Sir Damien’s image as the perfect husband—but also shame the masterminds behind the rumors. Your friends.”

Marina brushed past her, fingers clawing into her hair as the idea settled in. She was right. Reaching out to that slut was nothing compared to the satisfaction of humiliating her so-called friends. She’d flip the table entirely—claim the woman as a family friend—and bury the rumors for good.

“Fine,” Marina said coldly. “Send word to her team and get back to me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the assistant replied quickly as Marina stormed down the grand hallway, her fists clenching tightly at her sides.