The Life we never Planned

Chapter 62

Chapter 62

DAMIAN’S POV

I stared at Angela’s last message.

I'm with my lawyer. I'll explain later.

Later.

That word had been irritating me all morning.

I had spent the last two hours in meetings, pretending to listen while my mind kept returning to the same thing.

Angela had taken several media houses to court.

Without telling me.

I wasn't angry that she had fought back.

If anything, I was proud of her.

What bothered me was that she had decided to walk into another room full of people who had already attacked her without thinking to tell me.

My phone rang.

“Sir.”

My secretary's voice came through.

“Yes?”

“The meeting with the media company's legal representatives is scheduled for one.”

“I know.”

There was a pause.

“Should I arrange security?”

“No.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“Arrange a car.”

“For you?”

“For Angela.”

My secretary hesitated.

I knew what he wanted to ask.

He didn't.

“Send the car to her lawyer's office.”

“Yes, sir.”

I ended the call.

I wasn't going there to take over her case.

That wasn't my intention.

Angela had made it clear that she wanted to handle this herself.

And I respected that.

But respecting her independence didn't mean I had to sit somewhere and pretend I didn't care.

My phone vibrated again.

A message from Angela.

Don't come.

I stared at it.

Then another appeared.

I'm serious, Damian. Let me handle this.

I smiled despite myself.

She was giving me orders now.

Interesting.

I typed a response.

I won't interfere.

I paused.

Then added:

But I'm still nearby.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Damian.

I laughed quietly.

Trouble.

No response.

I could already imagine her expression.

I put my phone down.

For once, I would listen.

---

ANGELA’S POV

The media company's office was nothing like I expected.

It was too quiet.

Too polished.

Too careful.

Three lawyers sat across from us.

Nobody looked confident anymore.

That alone told me enough.

I sat beside my lawyer, keeping my hands folded on the table.

One of the lawyers cleared his throat.

“Ms. Williams, our client would like to resolve this matter privately.”

“I understand.”

“We believe litigation can be avoided.”

I looked at him.

“They published lies about me.”

“Yes.”

“They called me a prostitute.”

His eyes dropped.

“They suggested I slept with people for contracts.”

Silence.

“They called me a gold digger.”

Another uncomfortable pause.

“And they called me Damian's mistress.”

The lawyer shifted in his chair.

“Our client regrets the language used in the articles.”

“Regret isn't the same as accountability.”

My lawyer glanced at me.

I continued.

“I didn't bring this case because I wanted money.”

The lawyer nodded.

“We understand.”

“I brought it because you damaged my name.”

He looked at the documents in front of him.

“We're prepared to issue a public retraction.”

My eyebrows lifted.

“A retraction?”

“Yes.”

“Across every platform where the accusations were published?”

He hesitated.

“Yes.”

“And an apology?”

“Yes.”

I leaned back.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then he slid another document across the table.

“This would be the proposed agreement.”

I looked at it.

There were conditions.

Confidentiality.

Withdrawal of the lawsuit.

No further claims.

I almost laughed.

They wanted to apologize privately while making sure nobody could talk about what they had done.

I pushed the document back.

“No.”

The lawyer looked surprised.

“No?”

“I'll accept a public correction and apology if my lawyer approves the wording.”

I pointed at the agreement.

“But I'm not withdrawing the case simply because you're afraid of what happens in court.”

His expression hardened slightly.

“Ms. Williams, litigation can be exhausting.”

“I know.”

“You could lose.”

“I know.”

“And your reputation could suffer further.”

I looked directly at him.

“It already did.”

Silence.

I stood.

“My lawyer will communicate with you.”

We walked out.

The moment we stepped into the hallway, Benedicta called.

“How did it go?”

“They want a settlement.”

“And?”

“I refused.”

There was a pause.

Then she laughed.

“Good.”

I smiled.

“Where are you?”

“Somewhere you don't need to worry about.”

“Benedicta.”

“Fine. I'm nearby.”

I shook my head.

“You're impossible.”

“I learned from you.”

Before I could answer, I noticed several people standing near the entrance.

One woman recognized me.

Her expression changed.

Then she whispered something to the person beside her.

The whispering spread.

I heard it.

“That's her.”

“The one with Damian.”

“She actually sued them?”

“She thinks Damian will protect her.”

Another voice came from behind me.

“What happens when he leaves her?”

I stopped walking.

Benedicta's voice came through the phone.

“Angela?”

I remained silent.

I didn't turn around.

I didn't defend myself.

I didn't need to.

My lawyer placed a hand lightly against my arm.

“Let's go.”

I nodded.

We continued walking.

Behind us, the whispers grew louder.

But I didn't look back.

For the first time, I understood something.

People had become so used to seeing Damian as the person behind me that they had forgotten something very important.

I had a name before Damian.

I had a career before Damian.

And I would still have both if he walked away tomorrow.

I just hadn't known how much I needed to believe that until now.

Outside, I saw a black car waiting.

I recognized it immediately.

My steps slowed.

Benedicta came out behind me.

She looked at the car.

Then at me.

“Oh.”

I sighed.

“Don't.”

She smiled.

“I didn't say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I was.”

The back door opened.

Damian stepped out.

Dark suit.

Calm expression.

That dangerous confidence that made rooms go quiet