Chapter 66
967 Words
Chapter 66
ANGELA’S POV
The courtroom was quieter than I expected.
Maybe because I had already spent too many days hearing my name dragged through headlines, comments, and conversations that had nothing to do with the truth.
Today, there was no room for opinions.
Only evidence.
I sat beside my lawyer, my hands folded tightly in my lap.
Across the room, the media houses sat with their lawyers.
For the first time since this began, none of them looked particularly confident.
I glanced at Benedicta.
She gave me a small nod.
“You've got this,” she whispered.
I breathed out slowly.
My lawyer stood.
The arguments went back and forth, but this time, the facts were on our side.
Documents had been presented.
Sources had been challenged.
Statements had been examined.
And the publications that had called me a prostitute, a gold digger, and a woman who slept her way into business deals could no longer hide behind the excuse that they were simply expressing opinions.
They had presented accusations as facts.
And they had no evidence to support them.
When the judge finally delivered the ruling, I barely breathed.
The court ruled in my favor.
I won.
For several seconds, I simply sat there.
I had imagined this moment so many times.
I had imagined shouting.
Crying.
Feeling victorious.
Instead, I felt strangely calm.
My lawyer touched my arm.
“Congratulations, Angela.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
Benedicta hugged me the moment we stepped outside.
“You won!”
I laughed softly.
“I know.”
“You actually won.”
“I know, Benedicta.”
She pulled back and looked at me.
“Why do you look so calm?”
“Because I'm tired.”
She laughed.
“Fair enough.”
I looked toward the courthouse steps.
Damian was standing there.
Of course he was.
He wore a dark suit, his hands in his pockets, surrounded by the quiet presence of people who seemed to instinctively give him space.
The moment his eyes found mine, something inside me softened.
He walked toward me.
“You won.”
I smiled.
“I did.”
His gaze stayed on my face.
“I knew you would.”
“You didn't help.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“You're accusing me of not helping?”
“You stayed out of it.”
“You told me you wanted to handle it yourself.”
“And you listened.”
“Sometimes.”
I laughed.
He stepped closer.
“I'm proud of you.”
Those four words affected me more than the judgment had.
I looked down.
“Thank you.”
His fingers slipped into mine.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
I smiled.
“You're not even going to ask if I want to celebrate?”
“I already planned something.”
I looked at him suspiciously.
“What did you plan?”
“You'll find out.”
---
That evening, Damian took me somewhere quiet.
There was no crowd.
No photographers.
No business associates.
Just the two of us.
We ate dinner, talked about everything except the court case, and for the first time in weeks, I didn't feel like I was waiting for something terrible to happen.
Damian reached across the table and took my hand.
“You know what I like about you?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You don't need me to save you.”
I smiled.
“I told you.”
“I know.”
He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.
“But I still want to be the man standing beside you.”
Something tightened inside my chest.
He didn't say it dramatically.
He said it like it was the simplest truth in the world.
I looked at him.
“Damian?”
“Yes?”
“What do you want?”
He smiled.
“From tonight?”
“No. From life.”
He leaned back slightly.
For a moment, he thought about it.
“A peaceful home.”
My heart skipped.
“A family.”
I swallowed.
“Someone I can come home to.”
His eyes met mine.
“Someone who stays.”
I couldn't breathe properly for a second.
He wasn't proposing.
He wasn't asking me anything.
But I understood.
He was talking about the future.
Our future.
And somehow, that scared me more than the courtroom ever had.
Because Damian wasn't playing with me.
He was building something in his mind.
Something permanent.
Something I wasn't sure I deserved.
He squeezed my hand.
“And you?”
I forced a smile.
“I want my company to succeed.”
He laughed.
“Of course you do.”
“I'm serious.”
“I know.”
“And I want my own office.”
“You'll have one.”
“I'll build it myself.”
“I know.”
His smile made my chest ache.
“I'll still come and annoy you there.”
“You already do that.”
“Good.”
I laughed.
For the rest of the evening, we talked.
About work.
About places we wanted to visit.
About the kind of house we liked.
About little things that shouldn't have mattered.
But they did.
Because somewhere between his quiet dreams and my own growing ambitions, I realized something.
Damian wasn't just enjoying the present.
He was imagining a future.
And I was beginning to feel guilty about being part of it when I still wasn't completely certain what my heart was doing.
I looked at him across the table.
He smiled at me.
And I smiled back.
But deep inside, the guilt had already started whispering again.
He was giving me his whole heart.
And I still hadn't figured out what I was giving him.
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