CHAPTER 8: She's at the door
1389 Words
Lisa woke up to shouting.
Not outside. Inside.
A woman’s voice. Loud. Angry. Echoing down the hallway.
Lisa sat up fast. Her heart was already racing.
She knew that voice.
“Mom?” Lisa whispered.
Her door opened without a knock.
Mara rushed in. “Mrs. Voss, don’t go out there—”
Too late.
Lisa was already out of bed, cane in hand. “Where is she?”
“Living room,” Mara said quietly. “Mr. Voss is with her. Please, let me come with you.”
Lisa nodded.
---
The living room was chaos.
_“—how dare you parade her on TV like that! She’s embarrassing us!”_
Lisa stopped walking.
Her mother. Mrs. Andrews.
And Damien. Silent.
Lisa stepped in. “Mom.”
Silence.
Then: “There she is. The ungrateful one.”
Lisa’s hands shook on her cane. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” Her mother laughed. Sharp. Ugly. “YOU’RE on every channel, Lisa. ‘Blind wife.’ ‘Contract.’ Do you know what the neighbors are saying? That we SOLD you.”
“We did,” Lisa said quietly.
A slap.
Not on Lisa. On the coffee table.
“Don’t you talk back to me!” her mother snapped. “After everything we did for you. After Annabelle gave up her chance so you could eat—”
“That’s enough.”
Damien.
His voice cut through the room. Cold. Final.
Lisa felt him move. He was now standing between her and her mother.
“Mrs. Andrews,” Damien said. “You are not welcome in this home.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said leave.”
Lisa heard her mother scoff. “You can’t tell me what to do. She’s my daughter. I’m here to take her home. The contract is over. Annabelle said so.”
Lisa went still. “What?”
“The contract,” her mother said. “One year. But we’re ending it early. You’ll come home today.”
Lisa’s chest squeezed. “I didn’t agree to that.”
“You don’t get to agree,” her mother said. “You’re still my responsibility.”
“No, she isn’t,” Damien said.
Lisa heard papers. Damien’s voice was right next to her ear now.
“The contract states Lisa Andrews is my legal wife for 12 months,” he said. “It can only be terminated by mutual agreement of both spouses. Not by you. Not by Annabelle.”
Silence.
“You think money makes you her husband?” her mother hissed.
“No,” Damien said. “The law does. And my lawyers do. Now get out before I have security remove you.”
Lisa heard footsteps. Fast. Angry.
Then her mother was in front of her. Close. Lisa could smell her perfume.
“You think he loves you?” her mother whispered. Low. Only for Lisa. “He paid for you. Just like we did. You’re nothing but a transaction, Lisa. Don’t forget that.”
Lisa didn’t flinch.
“Then at least this transaction talks to me like I’m human,” Lisa said.
Her mother made a sound. Like she’d been hit.
Footsteps. The door slammed.
---
Quiet.
Lisa stood there, breathing hard.
“Lisa,” Damien said.
“I’m okay,” Lisa lied.
“You’re shaking.”
Damien’s hand touched her arm. Gentle.
“Come sit,” he said.
They sat on the couch. Lisa could still hear her heart in her ears.
“She’s lying,” Damien said. “About ending the contract. She can’t.”
“I know,” Lisa whispered. “But... she’s right about one thing.”
“What.”
“I was a transaction.”
Damien went still. “Was.”
Lisa turned toward him. “Is that all I still am to you?”
Damien didn’t answer right away.
Then: “No.”
Lisa waited.
“When my sister died, everyone tried to fix me with things,” Damien said. “Money. Trips. Therapy. No one just... sat with me. You did. The first night. In the dark.”
Lisa swallowed. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“That’s the point,” Damien said. “You didn’t try to do anything. You just were here.”
Lisa’s eyes filled with tears she couldn’t see. “My mom thinks I’m embarrassing.”
“My mother thought Ella was a burden when she got sick,” Damien said. “People are cruel when they’re scared.”
Lisa nodded. “She slapped the table.”
“I know.”
“If she comes back—”
“She won’t,” Damien said. Firm. “I called security. And my lawyers. If she or Annabelle comes within 500 feet of this building, they’ll be arrested.”
Lisa let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Damien said. “This is the bare minimum.”
---
Later, Lisa was in her room.
A knock.
“Come in.”
Damien.
He was holding something. A mug.
“Tea,” he said. “Chamomile. Mara said it helps.”
Lisa took it. Warm. “Thank you.”
Damien sat on the floor again. Like the first night.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lisa said. “Stand up to her for me.”
“Yes, I did,” Damien said. “No one gets to talk to you like that. Not in my house.”
Lisa smiled a little. “It’s our house now, right? For a year.”
Damien was quiet. Then: “Yes. Our house.”
Lisa sipped the tea. “Damien?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something about Ella?”
Damien tensed. “What about her.”
“What did she like? To drink?”
“Hot chocolate,” Damien said immediately. “With too much marshmallow. She’d make a mess.”
Lisa smiled. “Sounds like her.”
Another pause.
“She would’ve liked you,” Damien said. “She hated bullies. She would’ve hated your mom.”
Lisa laughed, watery. “Ella sounds cool.”
“She was,” Damien said. The word broke. “The best.”
Lisa reached out. Found his hand on the floor.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her,” Lisa said.
Damien squeezed her hand. “Me too.”
They sat like that until the tea got cold.
---
That night, Lisa’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered. “Hello?”
_“Lisa. It’s me.”_ Annabelle.
Lisa’s stomach dropped. “What.”
_“Mom told me what happened. You humiliated us.”_
Lisa didn’t say anything.
_“You think because you’re with a billionaire now you’re better than us? You’ll regret this. When the year is over and he throws you away—”_
“Annabelle.” Damien’s voice. From the doorway.
Annabelle went silent.
“How did you get this number,” Damien said. He’d picked up the other line.
_“That’s not—”_
“Don’t call her again,” Damien said. “Don’t text. Don’t show up. If you do, I will make sure your credit cards, your lease, and your job all disappear by tomorrow. Do you understand me?”
_“You can’t—”_
“I can,” Damien said. “Try me.”
He hung up. Then he looked at Lisa.
“You okay?”
Lisa nodded. “She said you’ll throw me away when the year is over.”
Damien walked in and sat on the edge of her bed.
“Lisa,” he said. “Look at me.”
Lisa turned toward him.
“I don’t know what happens in 9 months,” Damien said. “But I know I’m not letting anyone hurt you between now and then. Not your family. Not the press. Not me.”
Lisa nodded, tears falling.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Damien brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb.
“Get some sleep,” he said. “I’ve got the door.”
Lisa lay down.
For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like she had to hide.
Because the scariest man in New York was standing guard.
- Writer
