Chapter 45
Chapter 45
DAMIEN
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I slammed the door of my penthouse behind me, the echo bouncing off the walls as I strode toward the elevator. My jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might snap. Everything felt wrong–completely out of my control. My marriage, my patience, my entire life.
I shouldn’t have stayed away from home last night, but I couldn’t stomach seeing her. Not after what I’d heard.
Her voice from that call kept replaying in my head, every word twisting the knife deeper. Rosalie had been confiding in someone else. A man. And not just about anything–about me. About us.
What did she think she was doing? Planning her escape? Did she honestly believe I’d let her leave? After everything I’d done to make her mine?
I jabbed the elevator button harder than necessary, my thoughts spiraling as I waited for the elevator door to slide open. She had no idea how far I’d gone for her. She didn’t understand the lengths I was willing to go to keep her in my life.
I clenched my fists, staring at my distorted reflection in the shiny elevator doors. “You’re not going anywhere, Rosalie,” I muttered under my breath.
When we were in high school, I knew she was meant for me. She’d been untouchable then–bright, beautiful, and out of reach. But I waited. I bided my time. I had her finally but she broke my heart, left me and I turned into her worst nightmare.
And years later, when her father’s company started crumbling, I saw my chance. I kept tabs on it, ensuring no other company would strike a deal with him. I made sure no one came to his rescue until it was me–until I was the savior her family desperately needed.
I played the part perfectly, sweeping in at the right moment, offering a lifeline they couldn’t refuse. And then I made her
mine.
The clevator dinged, and I stepped in, barely registering the mirrored walls around me as I pressed the button for the ground floor.
I would never let her–or anyone–destroy what I’d built. Rosalie was mine. She had always been mine, even if she didn’t realize it.
By the time I arrived at my office building, my anger had settled into a cold determination. I strode through the lobby. ignoring the curious glances from my employees. They were used to my moods by now, and today wasn’t the day to test my patience.
Inside my office, I shut the door behind me, the quiet hum of the city filtering through the large windows. I sat at my desk, staring at the stack of papers waiting for my attention, but my thoughts remained on Rosalic
Why couldn’t she just see reason? Why couldn’t she understand that everything I did was for usi
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in, I called, not bothering to look up.
The door opened, and my secretary, Vivian, stepped inside. She wore a titted dress that hugged her curves a little too tightly for office attire, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t in the mood to deal or reprove anyone for anything today
“Mr. Hale,” she said, her voice smooth and practiced “Your meeting with the board is scheduled for one hour from now Would you like me to prepare anything for you?”
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I nodded absently, still lost in my thoughts. “Just make sure everything is in order.”
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She hesitated, and I finally looked up, noticing the way she lingered near the door. Her eyes held something more than professional concern, and 1 sighed internally.
“Is there something else, Vivian?” I asked, my tone clipped.
She stepped closer, her movements deliberate. “You seem… tense,” she said, her voice dropping into a softer, more suggestive tone. “I could help you relax, if you’d like.”
I froze, her words catching me off guard. “Excuse me?”
She leaned against the edge of my desk, her gaze locked on mine. “You work so hard Mr Hale. You deserve a little… distraction.”
For a fleeting moment, I let my anger and frustration cloud my judgment. I stood, closing the distance between us, and kissed her.
Maybe kissing her was what I needed to forget about Rosalie for
alie for even ju
just a moment.
It was brief, impulsive, and completely devoid of any real emotion. As soon as our lips met, I realized how empty it felt-
how wrong-
I pulled back sharply, disgusted with myself and with her. “Get out,” I said, my voice low but laced with venom.
Vivian blinked, clearly shocked. “Damien, 1-”
“It’s Mr Hale to you and I said get out!” I barked, my tone rising.
She stumbled back, her composure faltering as she hurried toward the door. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled before slipping out and closing the door behind her.
I stood there for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. My hands trembled with the weight of my emotions–anger, guilt, frustration.
This wasn’t who I was. I didn’t need distractions. I didn’t want anyone but Rosalie.
I sat back down, running a hand through my hair. She had no idea how much power she held over me, how deeply she was embedded in my soul.
I glanced at my phone, tempted to call her but knowing it would only lead to more questions I wasn’t ready to answer. One thing was certain: I wasn’t going to let her slip away. Not now. Not ever.
ROSALJE
I couldn’t sleep. The entire night, I sat in the living room, staring at the door, hoping it would open and Damien would walk in. But the silence in the house felt deatening, and the minutes dragged on like hours
The clock on the wall ticked loudly 9:00 AM
I wrapped my arms around my knees, pulling them to my chest. My phone was on the coffee table, the screen dark, but I couldn’t stop glancing at it. What if something bad had happened? He hadn’t answered any of my calls, and his number was still unreachable.
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“Damien,” I whispered into the empty room, my voice cracking. “Where are you?”
I grabbed
y phone again and scrolled through our call history. My last call to him had been over an hour ago. Desperation at my chest as I hit the redial button.
The line rang, then the same automated voice answered: “The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “Why won’t you pick up?” I muttered, my voice barely audible.
I stood and began pacing the room, my mind racing with possibilities. Maybe he was in trouble. Maybe he was hurt. Or maybe…..
I stopped in my tracks, shaking my head. “No, don’t think like that, Rosalic,” I scolded myself. “He’s fine. He has to be fine.”
But the ache in my chest didn’t subside.
My gaze shifted to the dining table, where the untouched dinner I’d prepared still sat. The sight of it made my throat tighten. I’d poured so much into that meal, hoping it would be a way to apologize, to mend the cracks in our relationship. But he hadn’t even come home.
I walked to the table, my movements sluggish. The candles I’d lit earlier had burned out, leaving a faint trail of wax on the holders. The food was cold now, the plates still neatly arranged.
With a heavy sigh, I began packing everything away. Each clink of the dishes felt like a reminder of my failure.
As I stored the containers in the fridge, my mind wandered back to our argument earlier yesterday. His words had been sharp, cutting through me like knives. But the worst part was the look in his eyes–so cold, so distant.
I leaned against the counter, pressing my palms into the surface to steady myself. “Why did it have to get this bad?” I whispered, my voice trembling.
After finishing up, I trudged upstairs to the bedroom. My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind refused to quiet. I climbed into bed, pulling the covers over me, but truthfully, for some reason, the emptiness on Damien’s side felt unbearable.
I reached for my phone one last time, scrolling aimlessly through my messages. That’s when a new notification popped up- a message from an unknown number.
My heart sank. Hesitantly, I opened it.
There was no text, just a video attachment. My thumb hovered over the play button, dread pooling in my stomach. Something about this felt wrong, but curiosity got the better of me.
I tapped play.
The video started blurry, but it quickly came into focus. It was Damien. My breath hitched as I recognized his office, the familiar mahogany desk in the background. But he wasn’t alone.
A woman stood with him, her body leaned against his desk. She leaned in close, her face just inches from his. My heart raced as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head.
Then it happened. He kissed her. And she kissed him back with equal intensity.
I dropped the phone as if it had burned me, the video already ended, as it tumbled onto the bed. My chest tightened, and
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my breathing grew ragged.
“This can’t be real,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “It has to be fake. Someone’s trying to mess with me.”
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t fake. The way he kissed her, it was real. Too real,
Tears streamed down my face as I reached for the phone again, my hands trembling. I replayed the video, hoping I’d somehow misunderstood. But the scene unfolded the same way, and the knot in my stomach grew tighter.
“How could you, Damien?” I whispered, my voice filled with pain.
My mind raced with questions. Who had sent this to me? Why? And most importantly, what was I supposed to do now?
I stared at the screen, my reflection blurry against the darkened phone.
But now, all I could see was her lips on his.
I curled up on the bed, clutching my pillow as sobs wracked my body. The betrayal cut deep, and I didn’t know how to process it
