His to Breed

CHAPTER 4

The first public appearance came three days after the wedding.

I found out about it the way I found out about most things in my new life: Damien's assistant appeared at the door of the bedroom with a garment bag, a folder, and an expression that said she'd rather be anywhere else.

"Mrs. Blackwood." She said it like it was a job title. Which, I supposed, it was. "There's a gala tonight. Mr. Blackwood requests you accompany him. Your dress is in here. The schedule is in the folder. The driver will collect you at six."

I blinked at her. "Requests? Or requires?"

Her mouth twitched. The tiniest c***k. "The folder has the schedule, Mrs. Blackwood."

And she was gone. Like a ghost. Like everyone else in this building.

I opened the garment bag. And I stared.

It was black. Simple. Expensive. The kind of dress that cost more than my father's car and looked like it cost even more than that. It would fit like it was made for me, because it probably was. I ran my hand over the fabric. And I thought: this is what I am now. A thing to be dressed. A prop for his merger. A wife to be seen, not heard.

Then I shook it off. No. I wasn't going to do that. I wasn't going to feel sorry for myself. I was going to wear the dress, smile at the board, play the part — and I was going to make Damien Blackwood regret ever putting me in it.

The gala was at a hotel. The kind of hotel with chandeliers and people who'd never worried about a bill in their lives. I walked in on Damien's arm, and I felt a hundred eyes on me. Measuring. Judging. Trying to figure out what I was doing there, who I was, why he'd married a nobody.

I smiled at all of them. And I held Damien's arm like I owned him, not the other way around.

"You're good at this." His voice was low, in my ear. Surprised. Like he hadn't expected it.

"I'm good at a lot of things you didn't expect, Mr. Blackwood." I smiled at a woman who was staring. She looked away first. "That's what happens when you buy a wife without reading the fine print on her either."

His jaw tightened. The c***k. I filed it away. Score.

The board was easy. Old men in expensive suits who wanted to shake my hand and tell me what a lucky man Damien was. I smiled.

I nodded. I said the right things. I was the perfect wife. The perfect prop. The perfect little thing on his arm that proved he was a family man, a settled man, a man you could trust with a merger.

And all the while, I was watching. Learning. Filing away names and faces and who looked at Damien like a threat versus like an ally.

Because if I was going to survive twelve months in this world, I needed to know who the players were. And if I was going to find leverage over him, I needed to know who his enemies were too.

I found one about an hour in.

She was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that was expensive and deliberate and sharp at the edges. She came up to us with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, and she looked at me like I was a stain on her dress.

"Damien." She kissed his cheek. Slow. Deliberate. Like she had a right to. "I heard you got married. I didn't believe it until now."

"Camille." His voice was flat. Controlled. But I felt his arm tense under my hand. Interesting. "This is Sienna. My wife."

"Your wife." She said it like it was a joke. She looked at me. Up. Down. Like she was pricing me. "She's pretty. Very... fresh. Is that the word? I suppose that's what you'd want, isn't it? Something new."

I smiled. Sweet. The kind of smile that didn't reach my eyes either.

"I'm sorry," I said, soft. "I don't think we've met. You are...?"

"Camille Ashford." She said it like I should know the name. Like everyone should know the name. "Damien and I were... close. Before."

"Oh." I tilted my head. Innocent. "An ex. How lovely. I'm sure you have so many fond memories of the time when you mattered."

Her smile froze. Damien's jaw tightened. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or amused. I didn't care. I was having fun.

"Charming," Camille said, flat. "Very charming. I can see why he picked you. You're exactly the kind of woman a man marries when he needs a prop."

"And you're exactly the kind of woman a man doesn't marry when he has a choice." I smiled at her. Sweet. "But I'm sure you'll find someone who appreciates... whatever it is you're offering."

She stared at me. Her smile gone. And for a second, I thought she might slap me. I almost hoped she would. It would've been more interesting than the rest of this night.

Then she smiled. Slow. And it was worse than the slap.

"Enjoy him while you can, Mrs. Blackwood." She said it low. Private. Like a promise. "He's not the kind of man who keeps things for long. I should know. I was one of them."

And she walked away. Leaving a silence behind her that felt like a warning.

I turned to Damien. He was watching her go. His face flat. But his jaw was tight. Tight in a way I hadn't seen before. Not annoyed. Something else. Something almost like... worry.

"She's a problem," I said. Flat. Not a question.

He looked at me. A long moment. And I saw him decide. Again. The little shift. The c***k.

"She's Victor Kane's sister." He said it low. Quiet. So no one else could hear. "And she's been trying to get back at me through him for three years. She's the reason he knows everything he knows about me. She's the reason he knew you existed before I told anyone."

I stared at him. The words landed. Slow. Heavy.

"She knew about me." I said it slowly. Working it out. "Before the wedding. Before anyone. She knew."

"Yes."

"And she just told me to enjoy you while I can." I said it flat. "That's not a threat. That's a schedule."

He didn't answer. Which was an answer.

I looked across the room. Camille was talking to a man by the bar. Her hand on his arm. Her smile bright. And I thought: that's the enemy. That's the woman who's been feeding information to the man who wants to destroy my husband. And she just got a look at me.

"Damien." I said it quietly. Sharp. "What does she want?"

"Revenge." He said it flatly. "She thinks I ruined her brother. She thinks I took everything from him. She's been trying to take everything from me ever since."

"And now she's seen me." I said it slowly. "She's seen the wife. The new, visible, unprotected wife. The one nobody knows yet."

His hand tightened on my arm. A warning. A promise.

"You're not unprotected." He said it low. Flat. "I told you. Rule four. Trust me."

I looked at him. This cold, beautiful, dangerous man. And I thought: you hid a clause from me. You lied to me. You trapped me. And now you want me to trust you.

But I also thought: she's the enemy. And she just made it personal.

"Fine." I said it like a curse. "Fine. I'll trust you. For now. But you remember this, Damien." I leaned in. My mouth at his ear. My voice low. Sharp. "If she comes after me, I'm not going to sit in your tower and wait to be protected. I'm going to fight back. And you're going to help me.

"His eyes met mine. Something sharp. Something almost like respect."

I wouldn't expect anything less."

And somewhere across the room, Camille looked at me. And smiled. Slow. Like she'd just found something she'd been looking for.

I smiled back. Sweet. Sharp. A promise.

Game on, b*tch.