CHAPTER 3 : THE FIRST CRACK
1121 Words
Dinner was silent.
That was Rule 8, I guess. One we never wrote down.
The dining table in Damian’s penthouse was long enough to fit 12 people. Tonight it was just us. Me at one end. Him at the other. A hundred miles of marble and unspoken things between us.
The staff had left the food and disappeared. Grilled salmon. Vegetables I didn’t touch. Wine I didn’t drink.
Damian cut his steak like it had personally offended him.
“How’s Liam?” he asked, not looking up.
“Stable,” I said. “The new treatment started today.”
“Good.”
That was it. That was all we said for 10 minutes.
I hated it.
“The contract says we have to have dinner together 3 times a week,” I said, breaking first. “It doesn’t say we have to be silent.”
Damian finally looked up. Black eyes. Tired. “Do you want to talk, Ava?”
“I want to know why you were at the hospital.”
“Because I said I would. Checking my investment.”
“Liar.” The word came out before I could stop it. “Rule 7. No more lies.”
His jaw tightened. He set his fork down.
“I was at the hospital,” he said slowly, “because you looked like you were going to collapse when you left the board meeting. And because my security told me Ryan was there again.”
My chest went tight. “You had me followed?”
“I have everyone followed,” he said. “It’s how I stay alive.”
“And Liam? The toy car?”
Damian stood. He walked to the window. City lights behind him. He looked like a statue. Cold. Untouchable.
“I don’t like kids,” he said quietly. “They’re loud. Messy. Needy.”
“But?”
“But he looked at me like I was a monster,” Damian said. “And for 5 seconds, I hated that.”
The first crack.
I swallowed. “Thank you. For the car. He sleeps with it.”
Damian didn’t turn around. “Don’t thank me. It was $12.”
It was a $300 limited edition car. I’d looked it up.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“You just did.”
“Personal question.”
He sighed. “Fine. One.”
“Why did you really do this? The contract. You could’ve picked anyone. A model. An actress. Someone who wouldn’t come with hospital bills.”
Damian was quiet for a long time.
“Because you said no,” he said finally.
I frowned. “What?”
“Three years ago. Charity gala. You were serving drinks. I asked you to dance.” He turned to face me. “You said no. Said you had a sick kid at home and no time for billionaires playing games.”
I remembered. Barely. A man in a tux. Arrogant smile. I’d been so exhausted I could barely stand.
“I didn’t know it was you,” I whispered.
“I know,” Damian said. “And I’ve spent 3 years wondering what kind of woman says no to me. Then your GoFundMe popped up. Desperate. Tired. Doing it all alone.”
He walked back to the table but didn’t sit.
“So I made you an offer you couldn’t refuse,” he said. “Not because I needed a wife. Because I wanted to see what happened when a woman like you had no choice but to say yes.”
It felt like a punch.
“So this is revenge?” I asked, voice shaking.
“This is curiosity,” he corrected. “And maybe something else I don’t have a name for yet.”
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
`Ryan: Saw you on TV. Looking good, Ava. We should talk. About Liam.`
My hands started shaking.
Damian saw it. He crossed the room in 3 steps and took the phone from me. Read the text.
His expression went completely blank. The dangerous kind of blank.
“Delete it,” he said.
“I—”
“Delete it, Ava. Now.”
I did. My fingers fumbled.
Damian tossed the phone on the table. “Rule 4. No contact with exes. I meant it.”
“He’s Liam’s father.”
“And I’m the one keeping Liam alive,” Damian snapped. Then he stopped himself. Closed his eyes. “Sorry.”
Sorry. Damian Blackwood said sorry.
He dragged a hand through his hair. “This is why I don’t do this. Contracts. People. Feelings.”
“Then let me go,” I said quietly. “Give me the money and let me go.”
“No.” The word was sharp. Final.
“Why?”
“Because if I let you go, you’ll run back to him,” Damian said. “And if I let you go, I’ll have to admit this was a mistake.”
He stepped closer. Too close. I could smell his cologne again.
“The contract says no touching,” I whispered.
“The contract says no touching without cameras,” he corrected. “We’re alone.”
His hand came up. Brushed my cheek. Just like in the penthouse that first night. But this time there was no press. No act.
This time it was real.
“Damian,” I breathed.
“Ava,” he murmured back.
For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. Rule 1, Rule 2, Rule 7, all of it gone.
Then his phone rang. Loud. Violent in the quiet.
Damian pulled back like I’d burned him. He answered without looking.
“Blackwood.” A pause. His face went hard. “When?”
He hung up.
“We have a problem,” he said. “The board found out about Ryan. They’re calling an emergency meeting. Tomorrow 8 AM. They want to meet your son.”
“What? Why?”
“Because they think you’re a liability,” Damian said. “And if they vote me out, the contract is worthless. The money stops.”
The floor dropped out from under me.
“Damian—”
“Pack a bag,” he said. “We’re leaving for my estate in 30 minutes. If they want to meet Liam, they’ll meet him. And they’ll see exactly who my wife is.”
He walked out, leaving his dinner untouched.
I stood there, heart pounding. The first crack wasn’t in the contract.
It was in him.
And I had a terrible feeling the board was about to break us both.
*[END OF CHAPTER 3]*
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