Chapter 5
I didn't stay.
The moment Damien disappeared through the door, I followed — silent, barefoot, keeping to the shadows of the hallway.
Voices echoed from the lobby below. I crouched by the mezzanine railing and peered down.
Ethan stood surrounded by four of Damien's guards, a pistol shaking in his grip. He looked nothing like the polished man I'd agreed to marry — his shirt was stained, his eyes wild, sweat dripping down his temples.
Damien descended the staircase like a predator approaching wounded prey. Slow. Controlled. Lethal.
"Cole." His voice was ice. "Put the gun down before I lose my patience."
"Give her back!" Ethan's voice cracked. "She's mine — she was supposed to be mine!"
Something about his words caught me. Was supposed to be.
Not "I love her." Not "I need her." She was supposed to be mine.
Damien clearly noticed too. He tilted his head. "Tell her why."
"Shut up!"
"Tell her about the insurance policy." Damien took another step. "The one you took on her last month. Two million. Same company your dear father-in-law used on her mother."
My blood went cold.
Ethan's face crumbled. Not into guilt — into rage. Because he'd been caught.
"You — you had no right to dig into my—"
"You were going to kill her," Damien said plainly. "Marry her. Wait six months. Stage an accident. Split the payout with Richard."
The words hit me like bullets. Each one.
Ethan. My Ethan. The man who proposed under fairy lights. The man who said he loved me more than air.
He was going to kill me.
I must have made a sound — a gasp, a whimper, something — because both men looked up. Ethan's gun swung in my direction.
"Vivian — baby, he's lying. He's manipulating you—"
"Then explain the policy." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Explain why you ran at the wedding. Explain why you never once tried to find me until now."
Silence.
That silence told me everything.
In that moment, Ethan's face hardened. The mask dropped entirely. What remained was something ugly — something that had been hiding behind bouquets and sweet words for two years.
"You stupid bitch," he hissed. "You were never anything but a paycheck."
A gunshot exploded through the lobby.
I screamed.
But it wasn't Damien who fell.
Ethan's gun clattered to the ground as he gripped his hand — his shooting hand — blood pouring between his fingers. One of Damien's guards had fired.
Damien walked up to Ethan and crouched before him, the way one crouches before a child.
"Touch what's mine again," he said softly, "and I'll take more than your hand."
Then he stood, gave a single nod to his men, and Ethan was dragged away screaming.
Damien looked up at me. His eyes carried something I'd never seen in them before.
Concern.
"Come down," he said. Not a command this time. Almost... a request.
My legs carried me down the stairs without my permission. When I reached him, I was shaking so violently my teeth chattered.
"He was going to kill me," I whispered.
Damien said nothing. He simply removed his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. His hand lingered on my arm for a moment — warm, steady.
Then he pulled away.
"Now you understand," he said. "Everyone you trusted was a lie."
And standing there in his jacket, surrounded by his world, I realized the most terrifying truth of all — the only person who hadn't lied to me was the devil himself.
The moment Damien disappeared through the door, I followed — silent, barefoot, keeping to the shadows of the hallway.
Voices echoed from the lobby below. I crouched by the mezzanine railing and peered down.
Ethan stood surrounded by four of Damien's guards, a pistol shaking in his grip. He looked nothing like the polished man I'd agreed to marry — his shirt was stained, his eyes wild, sweat dripping down his temples.
Damien descended the staircase like a predator approaching wounded prey. Slow. Controlled. Lethal.
"Cole." His voice was ice. "Put the gun down before I lose my patience."
"Give her back!" Ethan's voice cracked. "She's mine — she was supposed to be mine!"
Something about his words caught me. Was supposed to be.
Not "I love her." Not "I need her." She was supposed to be mine.
Damien clearly noticed too. He tilted his head. "Tell her why."
"Shut up!"
"Tell her about the insurance policy." Damien took another step. "The one you took on her last month. Two million. Same company your dear father-in-law used on her mother."
My blood went cold.
Ethan's face crumbled. Not into guilt — into rage. Because he'd been caught.
"You — you had no right to dig into my—"
"You were going to kill her," Damien said plainly. "Marry her. Wait six months. Stage an accident. Split the payout with Richard."
The words hit me like bullets. Each one.
Ethan. My Ethan. The man who proposed under fairy lights. The man who said he loved me more than air.
He was going to kill me.
I must have made a sound — a gasp, a whimper, something — because both men looked up. Ethan's gun swung in my direction.
"Vivian — baby, he's lying. He's manipulating you—"
"Then explain the policy." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Explain why you ran at the wedding. Explain why you never once tried to find me until now."
Silence.
That silence told me everything.
In that moment, Ethan's face hardened. The mask dropped entirely. What remained was something ugly — something that had been hiding behind bouquets and sweet words for two years.
"You stupid bitch," he hissed. "You were never anything but a paycheck."
A gunshot exploded through the lobby.
I screamed.
But it wasn't Damien who fell.
Ethan's gun clattered to the ground as he gripped his hand — his shooting hand — blood pouring between his fingers. One of Damien's guards had fired.
Damien walked up to Ethan and crouched before him, the way one crouches before a child.
"Touch what's mine again," he said softly, "and I'll take more than your hand."
Then he stood, gave a single nod to his men, and Ethan was dragged away screaming.
Damien looked up at me. His eyes carried something I'd never seen in them before.
Concern.
"Come down," he said. Not a command this time. Almost... a request.
My legs carried me down the stairs without my permission. When I reached him, I was shaking so violently my teeth chattered.
"He was going to kill me," I whispered.
Damien said nothing. He simply removed his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. His hand lingered on my arm for a moment — warm, steady.
Then he pulled away.
"Now you understand," he said. "Everyone you trusted was a lie."
And standing there in his jacket, surrounded by his world, I realized the most terrifying truth of all — the only person who hadn't lied to me was the devil himself.