Married To My High School Bully

Chapter 7

The drive home was even more uncomfortable. The limousine was enormous, luxurious, and completely wasted on the two of us because I had spent most of the journey pressed against the far side of the seat, staring through the window. Damien sat opposite me at first, but eventually moved beside me, although I immediately shifted farther away.

“So…, you didn’t answer my question earlier.”

I finally looked at him. “What question?”

“Why do you look at me as though I personally offended you?”

“Well, I guess you’re annoying.”

He leaned back against the seat, studying me. “You’re going to be my wife, Avery. At some point, you’re going to have to get used to me.”

I scoffed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I want the marriage agreement in writing.”

His expression changed slightly, then he nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll have my lawyer prepare it and send it over.”

I looked out of the window again.

After a moment, his voice softened. “Looks like you don’t trust me either, Princess. But if you’re going to hate me this much, at least I’d like to know why.”

My jaw tightened. He hadn’t changed.

He was still as intrusive, arrogant, and infuriating as he had been when we were younger. The only difference was that now he had money, power, and enough confidence to believe he could force his way into every part of my life.

“Don’t call me anything you wouldn’t call a stranger,” I told him. “And don’t expect me to trust you just because we’re getting married.”

He stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Fine.”

The rest of the journey passed in silence. When the limousine finally stopped outside my house, I didn’t wait for Damien to say anything. The driver opened the door, and I stepped out, walking straight toward the entrance without looking back.

⸻

The next morning, I had barely settled into my chair at work when the receptionist’s voice came through the intercom.

“Miss Williams, there’s… uhh … a vehicle waiting outside for you.”

I frowned. A car here for me meant only one thing, I was being invaded by a Kingsley on a Monday morning. Which one of them was it? Kingsley Senior, Mama Kingsley or i***t Kingsley?

I pushed back my chair and headed toward the lobby, already mentally preparing myself for whichever Kingsley had decided to ruin my morning. When I stepped outside, a black SUV with heavily tinted windows was waiting by the entrance, and a large man in a perfectly fitted suit stood beside it.

He opened the rear door when he saw me. “Miss Williams,” he said politely, giving me a slight nod. “Mr. Kingsley requests your presence.”

I stared at him.

“Which Mr. Kingsley?”

“Mr. Kingsley Damien.”

I looked toward the sky and sighed deeply.

“Mr. Kingsley can send as many people as he wants after me, but I have a job to do,” I said sharply, motioning toward the entrance. “So unless there is an actual emergency, tell him to wait.”

The man standing in front of me didn’t even blink, which only irritated me more. Fine. If Damien wanted to stand outside my office until sunset, that was his problem, not mine.

I turned on my heel and marched back inside, determined to forget the whole ridiculous encounter. I had barely settled into my chair and opened the audit files for Sweet Royale Catering Services when my boss suddenly appeared beside my desk with a suspiciously cheerful smile.

“Miss Williams, I’ve got some wonderful news for you,” he announced, looking far too pleased with himself. “You can take the rest of the day off.”

I stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

He waved his hand as though I had misunderstood something incredibly simple. “You heard me. Go home and enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about the Sweet Royale audit. Someone else can finish it.”

I looked at the reports scattered across my desk, then back at him. “But I’m halfway through the reconciliation, and I still have to review the expense statements before the final figures can be submitted. I can’t just walk away in the middle of it.”

“You can today,” he said with a strange little smile. “Consider it a well-deserved break.”

There was absolutely nothing normal about this.

My boss had never offered me a day off in the middle of an important audit. If anything, he usually looked personally offended whenever someone asked for leave during a busy period. Now he was practically pushing me out of the building.

Then I remembered the man waiting outside and I narrowed my eyes.

Of course.

Money had a way of making people generous.

Before I could argue further, my boss reached for my handbag and placed it in my hands. “There you go. Everything is settled. Close your laptop and go enjoy your afternoon.”

“I can do that myself.”

“I know,” he said quickly, already reaching for the laptop. “But let me help.”

He shut it before I could protest, and within seconds, I was standing beside my desk with my purse in one hand and my temper in the other.

I walked out of the office with one thought burning through my mind. Damien Kingsley was going to hear exactly what I thought about him.

Twenty minutes later, I stepped into one of the most intimidating law offices I had ever seen.

Everything about the place screamed wealth and power. The polished marble floors gleamed beneath the expensive lighting, the walls were decorated with tasteful artwork, and even the reception desk looked like something that belonged in a museum.

And sitting right in the middle of it all was Damien.

He was stretched comfortably across an oversized leather chair in the reception area, looking completely at home. One arm rested casually against the side while he glanced through his phone, his expression so calm that it immediately annoyed me. After everything I had learned about the Kingsley family over the past three days, I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if the entire building belonged to them.

His eyes lifted the moment I approached.

“You’re late,” he said without even bothering to greet me.

I stopped in front of him and stared. “I was at work.”

“A Kingsley wife doesn’t work at some… what was it again? An accounting firm?” His tone carried just enough disdain to make my jaw tighten.

“I am not a Kingsley wife yet,” I shot back. “And while you’re busy playing king of the business world, what exactly am I supposed to do with myself?”

“You’re my fiancée. Once we’re married, you’ll have plenty to occupy your time. Charity events, galas, social functions, smiling for cameras. You’ll fit right in.”

I rolled my eyes. “Wonderful. So I’m supposed to become a glorified mannequin? You think that’s all I want from my life? I had plans long before you decided to walk back into it so generously.” I folded my arms, refusing to let his confidence intimidate me. “I worked damn hard for that job, Damien. You don’t get to stroll into my life and start making decisions for me. I won’t let you take away my independence just because I’m marrying into your family!”

He rose slowly from his chair, his expression hardening as his muscles tensed beneath his shirt. For a brief moment, the sheer size of him made my pulse jump, but I reminded myself that I wasn’t the frightened girl I used to be. I held my ground and refused to take even a single step back.

“Don’t ever call me Damien again.”

I stared at him in disbelief. Of everything I’d just said, that was the part he chose to hear?

“Then what am I supposed to call you?” I demanded. “I’ve known you as Damien for as long as I can remember.”

He opened his mouth to respond. “Wh—”

A pointed throat-clearing stopped him.

The middle-aged lawyer standing nearby adjusted the folder in his hands and gave us both a tired look. “Perhaps we should focus on the contract?”