Marriage Turned Ruin

Behind Closed Doors

The elevator ride to Damian’s penthouse was silent, except for the soft hum of cables pulling them higher into the city skyline. Ava’s heels clicked softly against the polished marble floor as she stepped out into a space so sleek and modern it felt more like a gallery than a home.

Damian loosened his tie in one sharp motion, tossing it on the arm of the sofa. His jacket followed. Without a word, he walked to the bar and poured himself a drink, the ice clinking against crystal.

“You could’ve told me,” Ava said finally, her voice breaking the quiet.

He didn’t turn around. “Told you what?”

“That your so-called friend was going to stalk me across the ballroom.”

Damian took a slow sip, still facing the city beyond the glass wall. “If I told you every man in that room who wanted something from me—or from you—you wouldn’t sleep tonight.”

The answer made her stomach tighten. “So you just… let it happen?”

He set his glass down, finally meeting her gaze. “I didn’t let anything happen. I was watching you the entire time.” His voice dropped lower. “And I don’t like what I saw.”

Ava folded her arms. “And what exactly did you see?”

He crossed the room in three long strides, stopping close enough for her to feel the faint scent of his cologne—dark, expensive, intoxicating. “You looked at him longer than you should have.”

Her pulse jumped. “I was trying to figure out why he was looking at me like I was a—”

“Prize,” Damian finished for her. “Because in his eyes, you are. And he’s the kind of man who doesn’t stop until he wins.”

The words sent a chill down her spine. “And what am I to you, Damian?”

His jaw tightened, his eyes unreadable. “Mine. For as long as our contract says so.”

Her breath caught—not because of the words, but because of the way he said them, low and possessive, like a promise and a threat at the same time.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them thickened, the city lights painting him in shadows and gold. Then Damian stepped back, breaking whatever spell had formed.

“You should rest,” he said, his voice cooler now. “Tomorrow will be worse.”

“Worse?” she echoed.

He didn’t answer, just picked up his drink again and walked toward his study, the door closing softly behind him.

Ava stood there, her heart pounding, her mind replaying every glance, every warning. She didn’t know if Damian was protecting her… or keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

Somewhere outside, in the city night, a black car idled too long on the street below. And in the tinted window, a shadowy figure watched the penthouse lights—waiting.