Uncle Damian, I'm Yours

The CEO She Should Never Have Touched

Ariana

Panic seized my chest. I had to get out. Now. I slid from the bed as quietly as possible, gathering my dress from the floor with shaking hands. My heart hammered so loud I was sure it would wake him. Damian Blackthorne. The man Ethan had spent three years trying to impress. The man who could destroy what little remained of my dignity with a single word.

How could I have been so stupid?

"Leaving without saying goodbye?"

I spun around, clutching my dress to my chest. He was awake, propped on one elbow, watching me with those dark eyes. Not surprised. Not angry. Just watching, like he'd been awake the entire time.

"I have to go," I stammered, backing toward the bathroom. "This was, I shouldn't have, we shouldn't have.."

"But we did." His voice was calm, matter of fact. He sat up fully, the sheets pooling at his waist, completely unbothered by his nakedness or my panic. "And I'm not sorry about it."

"Well, I am." I rushed into the bathroom and dressed quickly, my fingers fumbling with the zipper. When I emerged, he'd pulled on black pants but remained shirtless, leaning against the bedroom doorframe like he had all the time in the world.

"You don't mean that," he said softly.

"Yes, I do." I searched frantically for my purse, finding it near the door. "You're Ethan's boss. Do you understand what that means? If he finds out.."

"He won't."

"You can't promise that." My voice rose, desperation clawing at me. "You can't control what people know or say or.."

"Ariana." He moved closer, and I backed away until I hit the door. He stopped a few feet away, giving me space but blocking my exit. "I knew who you were the moment you walked into that bar."

The words hit me like ice water. "What?"

"I recognized you immediately." His expression remained unreadable, cold and confident, but something flickered in his eyes. Something softer. "Ethan's wife. The woman he paraded at company events while barely looking at her. I knew exactly who you were."

Shame burned through me, hot and terrible. "Then why didn't you stop me? Why didn't you say something?"

"Because I wanted you." The honesty in his voice was brutal. "And you needed it last night. I wasn't going to deny either of us."

"You should have." Tears stung my eyes. "You should have walked away. I was drunk and hurt and not thinking clearly.."

"You knew what you were doing." He stepped closer, his voice gentler now. "Drunk or not, hurt or not, you chose me. Own that."

"I can't." A sob caught in my throat. "I can't own this. It was a mistake. A terrible, stupid mistake."

"Stop calling it that." His jaw tightened. "What happened between us had nothing to do with your ex-husband and everything to do with the fact that we wanted each other. There's no shame in that."

"There's every shame in it." I wiped furiously at my eyes. "I slept with my ex-husband's boss the same night he divorced me. What does that make me?"

"Human." The word was firm, final. "It makes you human, Ariana. Not a mistake. Not worthless. Human."

I couldn't look at him anymore. Couldn't face the strange softness in his eyes that made my chest ache. "Let me go. Please."

He studied me for a long moment, then stepped aside. But as I reached for the door handle, his hand covered mine.

"I don't regret anything," he said quietly. "And you shouldn't either."

I pulled my hand free and fled. The elevator ride felt endless. My phone buzzed in my purse, over and over, each vibration like a tiny electric shock. I pulled it out with trembling fingers and saw the screen flooded with notifications. All from Ethan.

I opened the messages, each one worse than the last.

You're pathetic.

Already spreading your legs for someone new?

My mother was right. You were always trash pretending to be something more.

Don't bother coming back. Your s**t is on the street where it belongs.

Worthless w***e. The words blurred through my tears. He'd never talked to me like this. Never been this cruel. Three years of cold distance, yes, but never outright hatred.

"Miss?" The elevator doors had opened. A security guard looked at me with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." I pushed past him into the lobby, stumbling toward the exit. The morning air hit me, sharp and cold, cutting through the fog in my head. I needed to get home. I needed to collect my things before Ethan destroyed them all.

I hailed a cab, gave the driver my address, and slumped in the back seat. My phone buzzed again. Another message from Ethan, but I couldn't bring myself to read it. Instead, I stared out the window as the city passed by, feeling hollowed out and raw.

I didn't notice the black car following us at a distance. When we pulled up to the house, my stomach dropped. My belongings were scattered across the front lawn like garbage. Clothes hanging from bushes, picture frames shattered on the walkway, books strewn across the grass. Three years of my life discarded like trash.

And standing in the middle of it all were Margaret, Victoria, and Cassandra, watching with cold satisfaction. I paid the driver and stepped out slowly, each step toward them feeling like walking through deep water.

"Well, look who decided to show up," Victoria said, her smile sharp and cruel. "The discarded wife."

"Those are my things." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I'm just here to collect them."

"Your things?" Margaret laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Everything here belongs to this family. You contributed nothing."

I bent to pick up a box of my books, but Cassandra stepped in front of me. She wore a diamond ring on her left hand now, glittering in the morning sun. "Don't touch anything. You have no rights here anymore."

"I have every right to my own belongings." Anger finally cut through the despair. "You can't just throw my life away."

"We can do whatever we want," Margaret said coldly. "You were never really family, dear. Just a temporary inconvenience."

I started gathering my clothes anyway, shoving them into torn garbage bags, trying to salvage what I could. They circled me like vultures, their voices cutting deeper with every word.

"You know what's pathetic?" Victoria crouched beside me. "We all knew Ethan was going to divorce you. We helped him plan it. The dinner, the public humiliation, everything. We wanted to watch you break."

"Why?" The question escaped before I could stop it. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"You existed," Margaret said simply. "You took up space meant for someone better. Someone like Cassandra."

I stood, bags in hand, and looked at these women who'd made my life hell. "I tried so hard to make you love me. To fit into your world. But you're right. I don't belong in your world. Because your world is cruel and empty and hollow."

Margaret's face turned white with rage. She moved fast, her hand flying toward my face.

The slap cracked across my cheek, sharp and stinging. My head snapped to the side, stars exploding in my vision. I tasted blood where my teeth cut my lip. The bags fell from my hands.

For a moment, everything went silent. I stood there, hand pressed to my burning cheek, humiliation washing over me in waves.

Then a voice cut through the silence, deep and deadly.

"Touch her again and I will bury this entire family."

I turned. Damian stood at the edge of the lawn, his car parked at the curb. He was fully dressed now in a dark suit that made him look every inch the powerful CEO he was. But his face, his eyes, they burned with a fury that made the air feel dangerous. He'd followed me.