The wife he bought

chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Zara's POV

After the balcony, nothing was said. But everything changed.

Damien didn’t kiss me again. He didn’t have to. He started showing up in smaller ways — tea on my nightstand before my meds, his jacket over my shoulders when the house gets cold, his hand finding mine under the table when Kessler lists side effects I pretended not to hear.

It’s obsession, dressed up as care. I’m learning the difference isn’t as big as I thought.

Then Roman learns.

I don’t know how. Maybe it was Enzo's men slipping up. Maybe it was the hospital, Damien sat in the waiting room twice a week like a man with nothing else to kill. Maybe it was the way Damien looked at me at the last shipment meeting — not like an asset. Like a nerve.

Roman has always hated what his rival Damien wants. He messed with his goods just when he noticed the differences going on between father and son. He’ll take me to prove Damien can bleed. He wasn't like the man I met at the event. The mask he had on, Damien was right to be angry, there was nothing good getting close to Roman.

It started with a text. An Unknown number. A picture of me leaving City General, Enzo few steps behind.

“Pretty wife. Shame if she got sick…or dies faster.”

I deleted it. Don’t tell Damien. I’m already a weakness. A burden to him. I won’t be the reason he does something stupid. Or worse gets hurt.

But Roman didn’t need my permission.

It was a Tuesday. Transfusion day. I was tired, my veins bruised from the IV, and all I wanted was tea and that ocean documentary. Enzo’s walked me to the car. He opened the door for me.

And a van door slides open next to us.

Was fast. A hand over my mouth, something sharp pressed to my side. Enzo yells. There’s a sound quiet, awful. He drops.

“Don’t scream,” a voice says in my ear. Roman’s right hand man. Marco. “Boss just wants to talk.”

They didnt even tie me up. I’m not a threat. I’m a message. They dumped me in a warehouse down by the docks. Same docks where Damien got his head split open, I guessed. The irony wasn't lost on me.

Roman was waiting.In Suit, smiling, eyes like Damien’s but colder. Empty.

“Zara,” he said, like we were friends. “You’ve gotten prettier, Damien's been hiding you not bringing you to events, I missed you, so I brought you here for a chat”

I stayed quiet. Bruises form fast these days. I could already feel one on my arm from Marco’s grip.

“He’s been different,” Roman continues, circling me. “Pulling out of routes. Asking about doctors. He blew up a deal with the Colombians because he had to be at the hospital with you”. He stops in front of me. “Do you know what that means? It means I finally found his weakness. And I’m going to use it against him” he said giving me an evil smile.

He didn’t touch me. He doesn’t need to. He only took a picture. Me, on my knees, hair in my face, looking sick. He sends it.

The caption: Trade Your half of the north docks for the girl. You have one hour. She doesn’t have that long.

My phone in his hand. It buzzes almost instantly.

Damien.

“Don’t.”

One word. I could hear the ice and the rage in it.

Roman laughs. “He’s coming. He always comes for what’s his.” He bents down. “Question is, Zara. Are you his? Or are you just a dying girl he feels guilty about?” he asked. I could tell his was curious too.

I spat at his feet. Blood. My gums bleed now. Another gift from the anemia.

He wipes his shoe with a handkerchief.

“I knew you'd be a feisty one speaking to you at the charity gala but I didn't know you were this feisty” he laughs

Forty-three minutes later, the doors broke down.

Not metaphorically. Actually broke down. Wood and metal and sounds.

Damien walked in through the smoke. No entourage. No Enzo—--God, Enzo. Just him. A gun in one hand. His face was blank. The blank he wore when he bought me. The blank that scared me more than his anger.

But his eyes. His eyes were not blank. Fire

“Let her go,” he said. His voice quiet. That’s the worst version.

Roman spreads his arms. “We’re negotiating. You want her breathing, you sign the docks over. Simple.” he tells him

“I’m not negotiating.” Damien takes a step. Marco raises his gun. Damien doesn’t even look at him. “You touch her again, I’ll feed you your fingers.”

“You’d start a war over a corpse?” Roman scoofs “She’s got weeks, Damien. Weeks.”

That’s when I saw it — the flinch. Tiny. In Damien’s jaw. He knew I was sick. He didn’t know Roman knew.

“You don’t talk about her,” Damien says.

“She’s not yours. She was debt. A purchase. You know I have my ways, I got information you bought something so I went to the charity gala to see the plaything you got —- I guess it's no longer a plaything is it.” He said laughing wickedly

Damien shoots him. Not kill shot. Shoulder. Roman drops with a scream. Marco moves — shoot Damien. A scratch. Damien’s second shot takes him in the knee.

Then Damien came in front of me. He goes to his knees on the concrete. His hands are on my face, checking, looking for damage. Thumbs brush under my eyes, my split lip.

“Did he hurt you?” It’s not a question. It’s a threat to the world.

“I’m okay.” My voice shakes. “Enzo—” I tried to say

“Alive. Hospital.” His forehead presses to mine. For one second, he just breathes me in. Like he wasn’t sure he’d get to again. Then the ice comes back. “Can you walk?” he asked.

I nodded. He stands, pulls me up with him. I stumble. His arm goes around my waist.

We walked out past Roman, who’s bleeding on the floor, laughing.

“Look at you,” Roman gasps. “The great Damien Voss, on his knees for a dying girl. What would your dad say?”

Damien didn’t answer him. He looked at me instead.

“You’re important to me,” he says. Low. Only for me. “You understand? You’re important. More than the docks. More than Voss. More than the whole damn city.”

Important. Not love. But from Damien Voss, it’s a confession written in blood.

We got in the car before I broke. The adrenaline’s gone. My hands were shaking. The bruise on my arm is already purple.

He reaches over, laces his fingers with mine.

“Hey,” he says. Soft. That new voice he only uses for me. “You’re safe. I got you.”

I couldn’t hold it anymore. The fear, the transfusion, the balcony, the way he looked at me when he thought Roman would kill me.

“I love you,” I said. Straight to his face. No armor. No lie. “I’m in love with you, Damien. I’m sorry. I know it’s not the deal. I know I’m dying. But I am. I’m in love with you.” I said to him.

He goes still. The car went off the lane before he corrects it. His jaw was so tight I thought he’ll c***k a tooth.

He didn’t look at me. He looked at the road. Knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“Don’t,” he says finally. Hoarse. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true.” I said

“Because I can’t—” He cuts himself off. Exhales. “Zara. You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it.”

He pulls over. Puts the car in park. Finally, he said “the moment I admit it something goes wrong” the voice in which he said it.

I didn't reply I only leaned towards his arm.

He drove us home in silence. He carried me in cause I was too tired to walk, brought me tea with honey exactly how I liked it.

This was the man I fell for and Roman just learned what happens when you touch what's his.