My Husband's Father Wants Me

Chapter 10

10

Damian’s gaze darkened, a storm brewing in his gray eyes. He opened his mouth to reply, but I held up a hand, refusing to let him speak.

"I caught my husband cheating on me less than twenty-four hours ago," I said, my voice trembling as the weight of the past day crashed over me.

"The man I was married to for three years was planning to divorce me months ago, and I completely had no idea. I haven't even begun to process that betrayal, and you're asking me to throw myself into another relationship?"

I took a sharp, steadying breath, trying to anchor the wild fluttering in my chest.

"I can't do it, Mr. Sterling. Putting aside the fact that my soon-to-be ex-husband is your son, moving from him to you wouldn't be right—to either of us."

"Arabella," Damian whispered, keeping his gaze locked on mine, his tone dropping into a soothing, unhurried cadence. "I am not asking you to accept me this very second. You asked what I wanted from you, and I gave you an honest answer."

He took half a step back, giving me breathing room as if sensing my urge to bolt.

"The decision to pursue you is mine," he continued, his tone smooth and absolute. "I needed you to know how I feel about you... What I've been holding back for years. Whether you accept or decline is your right. However..."

A faint, dangerous smirk touched his lips. "...I do not accept your refusal. Take all the time you need to adjust, Arabella. We have all the time in the world."

My brain stalled. ‘What?’

I replayed his words in my mind, my jaw practically slackening.

‘Did he just tell me that declining was my decision, but refusing to accept my 'no' was his choice?’

After everything he had said—all those smooth, reasonable words—did it ultimately translate into: ‘He wanted me, end of discussion?’

I stared at him in utter disbelief. How had I spent three years missing this stubborn, relentlessly possessive side of him?

"Mr. Sterling—"

"The finance department has processed the transfer," Damian interrupted smoothly, gesturing toward my purse. "You should check your balance."

The mention of money snapped my mind back to reality like a physical blow.

My mother.

Her ICU medication.

The pending hospital bill.

I had no time to debate his absurd, arrogant declarations.

I whipped out my phone with shaking fingers, unlocking the screen just as a banking notification popped up across the top.

[ALERT: $100,000.00 HAS BEEN CREDITED TO YOUR ACCOUNT.]

A breathless gasp escaped my lips. "Oh, thank God..." I looked up at Damian, real relief swimming in my eyes. "Thank you. I... I really have to go."

Damian stepped aside, gesturing toward the heavy double doors to grant me an unhindered exit. "Go."

I didn't hesitate. I turned on my heel and rushed toward the door. My hand was already turning the brass handle when his deep voice called out behind me one last time.

“Arabella. Why did you need exactly one hundred thousand dollars today? Why sell your life's work so urgently for that sum?"

I froze, my fingers tightening on the cold metal.

For a fleeting second, an overwhelming urge to tell him the truth flared in my chest.

I wanted to tell him about my mother, about Ethan stealing my savings, about the heartless lies he wanted me to tell the press, and the ultimatum he had given me.

But as I opened my mouth, the words died in my throat. Instead, a protective wall slammed shut inside my mind.

"Ethan is divorcing me," I said, keeping my back to him as I forced my tone to sound cold and calculated. "I need my own financial standing so I'm not left with nothing."

Silence stretched between us.

Fear had won. I was terrified. What if Damian was no different from Ethan or my father? What if giving him my vulnerability meant giving him a weapon to use against me?

If he knew how desperate I was for my mother's sake, he could use that leverage to trap me—controlling me with money just as the men in my life had always done.

"I see," Damian said quietly, his tone unreadable. "You may go."

"Thank you," I murmured.

I pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway. Yet, even as the heavy mahogany doors clicked shut behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling that the air between us had shifted irrevocably in those final few seconds.

‘Was it because of my answer?’

I passed the receptionist with a polite nod and made my way toward the elevators, my heels clicking rhythmically against the marble floor.

The bill for my mother's medication will be paid. The first phase of her treatment was secure. I should have felt pure, unadulterated relief.

Instead, my mind remained trapped in that corner suite, replaying Damian's unyielding declaration and his final, penetrating question on an endless loop.

I pressed my back against the wall of the descending glass elevator, closing my eyes as a terrifying, dangerous thought crept into my mind—one I tried frantically to suppress but couldn't.

‘What if I actually can trust Damian Sterling?’

‘He is more powerful than Ethan and my father combined... What if he is exactly the ally I need?’