He Married Me to Get Revenge

For the first time since I met Damian, I saw something I had never seen in his eyes. Fear. Not anger. Not revenge. Fear. “What did you say?” he asked. I swallowed. “My mother told me never to trust a man named Damian.” He stared at me. “Amara, when did she say that?” “The night she disappeared.” His face changed. “You remember that night?” “I remember pieces.” “Tell me everything.” I closed my eyes. The memory was blurry at first. Then it came rushing back. I was seventeen. It had been raining heavily that night. I remembered waking up because I heard my parents arguing downstairs. My mother's voice was trembling. My father's was angry. Then I heard another man's voice. A stranger. I had crept halfway down the stairs when my mother looked up and saw me. She immediately stopped talking. She came upstairs, grabbed my hand and pulled me into my bedroom. She was crying. I'd never seen my mother cry like that before. She knelt in front of me. “Amara, listen to me.” I remembered the way she had held my face. “If anything happens to me, you must leave this house.” I had been confused. “Mom, what's happening?” She shook her head. “Don't ask questions. Just promise me.” I promised. Then she whispered something I'll never forget. “Never trust a man named Damian.” I opened my eyes. Damian was still staring at me. “You're sure she said my name?” “Yes.” “Did she say anything else?” I shook my head. “No.” He walked away from me. I watched him pace across the room. “That's impossible.” “Why?” “Because I had never met your mother.” “Then how did she know your name?” He didn't answer. “Damian?” He stopped. “I was seventeen too.” I frowned. “What?” “I was seventeen when my father died.” He turned toward me. “I spent the following years trying to find out who killed him.” He walked closer. “If your mother knew my name before I ever knew yours…” He stopped. “Then she knew something about my family.” I felt a chill run through me. “What if she knew your father?” “She probably did.” “And what if my father didn't kill him?” Damian looked at me. “Then we've both been lied to.” Silence filled the room. I looked down at the wedding ring on my finger. Only hours ago, it had represented love. Now it felt like a chain. I slowly removed it. Damian's eyes followed the movement. “What are you doing?” “I don't want this.” I placed the ring on the table. He stared at it. “You're still my wife.” “No.” “You are.” “I married the man I thought you were.” His expression tightened. “And who am I now?” “A man who used me.” He looked away. “You're right.” The admission caught me off guard. “I am.” He picked up the ring. “But there's something you don't understand.” “What?” “I didn't know about your mother.” “And that makes everything okay?” “No.” His voice cracked slightly. “It doesn't.” He stepped closer. “I manipulated you. I lied to you. I married you for revenge.” I looked away. “But I never planned for this.” “For what?” “For loving you.” My eyes filled with tears. “Don't say that.” “Why?” “Because I still love you.” The room went silent. Damian looked at me. I hated myself for saying it. But it was true. Even after everything, some part of me still loved the man I had believed him to be. He moved toward me. I stepped backward. “Don't.” He stopped. Then suddenly— CRASH! The bedroom window shattered. Damian grabbed me and pulled me to the floor. Glass exploded across the room. He covered my body with his. I heard another shot. Then silence. “Are you hurt?” he whispered. I shook my head. He lifted himself carefully. There was blood on his shirt. My heart stopped. “Damian!” “I'm fine.” “You're bleeding.” “It's just a cut.” I touched his shoulder. My fingers came away red. “That's not just a cut.” He looked at me. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he smiled faintly. “You're worried about me.” I glared at him. “You just got shot protecting me.” “Almost shot.” “Damian.” His smile disappeared. “I would do it again.” My heart betrayed me. I looked away. Then I noticed something lying among the broken glass. A small black object. Damian picked it up. His face immediately hardened. “What is it?” “A tracking device.” My stomach dropped. “They've been tracking us?” “Yes.” “Since when?” He examined it. “Since the hotel.” “Then whoever attacked us knows where we are.” He looked toward the window. “We have to leave.” “Where?” “Somewhere they can't find us.” Before I could answer, my phone rang. Unknown number. I stared at the screen. Damian shook his head. “Don't answer.” But something inside me told me to. I pressed accept. “Hello?” At first, there was only static. Then I heard a woman's voice. Weak. Shaking. Almost a whisper. “Amara?” My entire body froze. I knew that voice. I had spent years trying to remember it. Years wondering if I would ever hear it again. “Mom?” Damian looked at me. The voice came again. “Don't trust Damian.” My knees nearly gave way. “Mom, where are you?” “I don't have much time.” “Where are you?” “Your father didn't kill Damian's father.” I covered my mouth. Damian stepped closer. “Mom, who did?” There was silence. Then she whispered: “Damian's father wasn't the real target.” My heart stopped. “What do you mean?” “The person they wanted dead…” Her voice broke. “…was your father.” I looked at Damian. He was staring at me in disbelief. Then my mother's voice became frantic. “Amara, listen to me. There is something inside your father's old study. You must find it before Victor does.” “Who is Victor?” The line went silent. “Mom?” Nothing. “Mom!” The call had ended. I stared at my phone. Damian took a step toward me. “Amara…” I looked at him. For the first time, I wasn't sure whether I was looking at my husband… or the man my mother had spent years warning me about. Then another message appeared on my phone. One sentence. COME TO YOUR FATHER'S STUDY ALONE IF YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR MOTHER AGAIN. I looked at Damian. He didn't know what the message said. And for the first time since our wedding… I decided not to tell him. TO BE CONTINUED…