Chapter Two: A Knife Between Us
824 Words
The morning after the confrontation, Leah didn’t sleep. Not really. She lay in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying Damon’s words repeatedly.
The last woman I swore to protect.
And I failed.
The image of his face—stone turning to ash—stuck with her. He wasn’t just haunted. He was crumbling, piece by piece.
She didn’t come here to fall in love with a man like Damon Silvano. But now, the thought of leaving him felt like abandoning someone already too far gone.
At breakfast, the mansion was quiet.
No guards at the hallway corners. No chatter in the kitchen.
Just her.
Until Damon walked in.
He didn’t speak. He poured coffee like they were strangers at a hotel, not newlyweds tangled in a dangerous truth.
“You didn’t sleep,” she said.
Neither did you, he didn’t say.
He sipped his coffee, expression unreadable. “There’s a dinner tonight. You’ll need to be there.”
“With whom?”
“People who matter.”
She set her fork down. “If I’m just your fake wife, why am I being dragged into your real life?”
Damon’s gaze flicked to hers. “Because I’m done pretending you don’t matter.”
Then he left her sitting there, stunned.
Leah had barely pulled herself together when Matteo found her in the dressing room.
“They’ll expect you to look like a Silvano,” he said, wearing a black velvet gown.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means elegance with an edge. You’re not his wife. You’re his shield. And tonight, you’re his sword.”
The words made her stomach twist.
Still, she dressed.
And when she looked in the mirror, she didn’t see the quiet girl from the Rosario house.
She saw someone who could burn the world down if she had to.
The dinner was held at a high-rise overlooking the city.
Crystal chandeliers. Gold-plated cutlery. Laughter that sounded more like warning bells.
Damon kept her close but barely touched her. He introduced her as Mrs. Silvano—and that title turned heads, silenced whispers.
But it was the arrival of one man that changed everything.
“Almonte,” Damon said under his breath.
Leah followed his eyes to a tall, sharp-faced man in a navy suit, flanked by two men who looked like wolves in tuxedos.
The tension spiked so fast that the air thinned.
“Who is he?” she asked quietly.
“Trouble,” Damon said. “And the reason I needed you.”
Dinner passed with political smiles and veiled threats.
Almonte toasted to peace, but his eyes never left Damon.
And Damon never let go of Leah’s hand.
Afterward, as they waited for the elevator, Almonte approached.
“So this is the new bride,” he said, eyes sliding over Leah like a weapon.
Leah lifted her chin. “And you are?”
He smiled without warmth. “Someone who mourns a woman Damon forgot too quickly.”
Damon stepped forward. “That’s enough.”
Almonte leaned in close. “She bled for you. Does she even know that?”
Leah’s breath caught. “What is he talking about?”
Damon didn’t answer.
Not until they got in the car.
“You promised no more lies,” Leah said, voice trembling.
“I didn’t lie.”
“You didn’t tell me everything.”
Damon stared out the window. “There are things I wish you never had to know.”
She turned to him. “Then tell me anyway. I’m not a child.”
He met her gaze. “Anastasia was Almonte’s sister.”
Leah went still.
“She infiltrated us. Pretended to love me. She was his weapon. Until she wasn’t.”
“She fell for you?”
“She tried to escape. He killed her.”
Leah’s stomach turned. “And you married me to protect yourself from him?”
“No,” Damon said. “I married you to protect you from what he’ll do next.”
Later that night, Leah stood on the balcony, hair loose in the cold wind.
Damon joined her in silence.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “if I could go back and change everything—”
“You wouldn’t,” she said. “You’re not built for regret.”
His laugh was quiet and painful. “No. But I am built for revenge.”
He looked at her then, really looked at her.
“You asked why you. It wasn’t convenient.”
“Then why?”
“Because you’re the only one I couldn’t use. The only one I wanted to protect without reason.”
Leah felt the tear slip down before she could stop it.
And when he stepped closer, she didn’t move away.
He touched her face like she was a secret he wanted to keep.
And maybe, for one breathless moment, she believed he really would.
- Writer
