Chapter 20
1080 Words
Damian’s jaw clenched. “You went through my personal files.”
Calla didn’t flinch. “I went through the lies you buried there.”
He stepped toward her, the storm in his eyes rising with every breath. “That wasn’t your place.”
“And it wasn’t your place to sell me off like a pawn, but here we are.”
They stood a breath apart, the tension blistering between them. She could feel the heat radiating off him, but this time, she wasn’t letting it pull her under. Not without answers.
“I found the merger contracts,” she said quietly. “The dates. The clauses. You needed a wife on paper. You didn’t need me. You just needed… someone.”
Damian didn’t deny it. He looked away for a moment, like the words physically hurt.
“I needed someone who wouldn’t run,” he said eventually. “Someone who could handle the spotlight. The expectations. The mess I was in.”
“Someone disposable,” she added coldly.
He met her eyes again. “I didn’t expect to fall for you.”
The silence that followed was sharp, fragile.
Calla’s throat tightened, but she refused to let him see her break. “Well, you did a damn good job hiding it.”
“I had to,” he rasped. “Because the moment I stopped pretending, I’d have to admit I was in too deep. And the truth, Calla… the truth would’ve destroyed everything.”
She blinked fast. “It still might.”
They stood there in the ruins of their lies. Of everything unspoken. And then, without warning, he reached for her.
His hand slipped behind her neck, drawing her close, and for a heartbeat, she didn’t pull away.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against her lips.
She couldn’t.
So she didn’t.
Their lips met, a collision of heat and pain, desire and regret. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tender. It was a war—one they both had already lost.
And when they finally broke apart, breathless and undone, Calla whispered, “Don’t think this fixes anything.”
Damian touched his forehead to hers. “I don’t want to fix it. I just want you.”
Too late, she thought. Far, far too late.
Calla pulled back, breath catching. The kiss had left her reeling—like she’d just stepped off a cliff and was still waiting to hit the ground.
“I can’t do this again, Damian,” she whispered. “Not if I’m the only one who ends up bleeding every time.”
“You’re not the only one bleeding,” he said, voice tight. “You just don’t see it.”
“I see everything now,” she shot back, stepping away. “I see the man who used me. Who kept secrets. Who let me fall for a version of him that never existed.”
Damian raked a hand through his hair, pacing. “You think I haven’t been punishing myself every day? You think I don’t wake up wishing I’d done things differently?”
“Then why didn’t you?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth before I walked into that hell with your ex-fiancée smiling like she already owned you?”
That name—Sabrina—hung between them like a blade.
Damian stilled. “She doesn’t own me. She never did.”
“She thinks she does. And you let her. You stood there and said nothing when she claimed you like a prize in front of the press.”
His voice dropped. “I said nothing because you were watching. And I knew if I told the truth in front of them, it would destroy you in a different way.”
Calla laughed bitterly. “So lying was your way of protecting me?”
“It was my way of protecting us,” he said. “Even if you don’t believe it anymore.”
Her heart ached, torn between the man she had glimpsed beneath the armor and the one who’d built a castle out of lies.
“What happens now?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Damian looked at her, and for the first time in weeks, he looked scared. “I don’t know. But I’m not letting you walk away without fighting.”
“Then fight differently,” she said. “Don’t just show up with roses and apologies. Give me something real.”
“You want real?” His voice dropped to a low growl. “Fine. I’ll give you real.”
He walked to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a sleek silver folder. He handed it to her without a word.
Inside were photos—of Sabrina, of board meetings, of signatures forged and papers tampered with. There were voice recordings clipped to transcripts. Legal documents with her name.
“Everything she’s done,” he said quietly. “Every threat. Every bribe. Every underhanded thing she’s used to try and take you down. I’ve been collecting them for weeks.”
Calla stared, stunned.
“I didn’t give these to the board. Not yet. Because once I do, it all goes public. And she’s not just ruined—she’s obliterated.”
Her hands trembled. “Why give them to me?”
“Because you deserve the choice. You always have. I’m done making decisions for you.”
Calla slowly closed the folder.
“I don’t know what scares me more,” she murmured. “That you’ve been protecting me… or that you thought I couldn’t handle the truth.”
Damian stepped closer. “I don’t think you can’t handle it. I think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I just didn’t want to give you another reason to hate me.”
She looked up at him. “Then stop hiding behind the man everyone else wants you to be. Be the man I need.”
Silence pulsed in the space between them.
Finally, she turned toward the door, folder in hand.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To decide if I’m going to destroy the woman trying to destroy me,” she said, pausing with a glance over her shoulder. “And whether I still want to save the man who broke me first.”
And with that, she walked out, leaving Damian staring after her with a look that said he knew—
The war had just begun.
- Writer
