Chapter 5 5

Chapter Five: Quiet Possession

The first sign that Nancy intended to stay came in the form of flowers.

They arrived just after breakfast-white lilies arranged in an expensive crystal vase, placed deliberately on the central table in the sitting room. Their scent was light but persistent, clinging to the air like a presence that refused to be ignored.

Mrs. Helen paused beside them, her brows drawing together slightly.

"These weren't ordered by Mr. Blackwood," she said.

I swallowed. "Do you know who sent them?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes, madam."

That single word was enough.

Nancy.

I forced myself to breathe evenly as I looked at the flowers again. They were beautiful. Perfect. Just like her public image. But beneath the surface, I sensed intent. A message wrapped in petals and politeness.

"She has access to the house?" I asked quietly.

Mrs. Helen hesitated. "Miss Nancy has... longstanding familiarity with the Blackwood estate."

That sounded dangerously close to permission.

"I see," I murmured.

"Would you like them removed?"

I considered it, then shook my head. "No. Leave them."

If Nancy wanted to announce her presence, I wouldn't pretend not to see it.

Damien noticed the flowers immediately.

His gaze lingered on them for exactly one second longer than necessary before he looked at me.

"Did you order those?"

"No."

A muscle in his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"I'll handle it," he said calmly.

"You don't have to," I replied, unsure why I said it. "They're just flowers."

"They're not," he said, his tone still even, but something dark flickered beneath it. "And yes, I do."

He didn't raise his voice. He didn't look angry.

That somehow made it more unsettling.

"I'll be out most of the day," he added. "Meetings. But I'll be back for dinner."

I nodded. "Okay."

He paused as if he wanted to say more, then simply turned and left.

Only after he was gone did I realize how much of the room's gravity had disappeared with him.

Nancy struck again before noon.

This time, she didn't hide.

I found her in the east-wing garden, seated gracefully on a stone bench beneath the jacaranda tree, her legs crossed elegantly, a teacup balanced perfectly in her hand. She looked like she belonged there-as though the house itself had been built with her in mind.

"Oh," she said, smiling when she saw me. "Perfect timing."

I stopped a few steps away. "You seem comfortable."

"I am," she replied easily. "This place has always felt like home."

The emphasis was deliberate.

"I didn't know guests had unrestricted access," I said.

She tilted her head. "Guests don't. I'm not a guest."

I felt the familiar tightening in my chest but refused to show it.

"What do you want, Nancy?"

She studied me openly, no longer pretending politeness. "I want you to understand the reality of where you are."

"And that is?"

"You're temporary," she said softly. "This marriage. This role. You."

I straightened. "You don't know that."

Her smile returned. "Oh, I do. Damien doesn't keep what disrupts his long-term plans."

"And you were part of those plans?" I asked.

For the first time, her composure cracked-just slightly.

"I was," she said. "Until I wasn't."

The words lingered between us.

"He didn't choose you because he loves you," she continued. "He chose you because you were convenient."

I met her gaze steadily. "Convenience doesn't look like protection."

Her eyes darkened. "You think this is protection? No, Hazel. This is control."

Before I could respond, footsteps echoed along the path.

Damien.

He stopped when he saw us together, his gaze sharpening instantly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Nancy.

She stood smoothly. "Visiting."

"You weren't invited."

"I rarely need to be," she replied coolly.

He stepped closer to me, positioning himself slightly in front of my body-not blocking my view, but unmistakably placing himself between us.

"That changes now," he said.

Nancy laughed softly. "You're being dramatic."

"No," he replied. "I'm being clear."

The air around him shifted-calm, controlled, but dangerous in its certainty.

"You will not approach my wife again without my presence," he continued. "You will not speak to her privately. And you will not attempt to undermine her position in this house."

Nancy stared at him, stunned. "You're choosing her?"

His answer was immediate. "Yes."

The word landed like a blow.

Nancy's smile vanished. "You'll regret this."

"I don't regret my decisions," he said. "I end them."

She left without another word.

Silence followed.

I exhaled slowly, my hands trembling despite my effort to stay composed.

"You didn't have to do that," I said.

"Yes," he replied. "I did."

We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving.

"Did she upset you?" he asked.

I hesitated. "She tried to."

His gaze softened-just a fraction.

"That won't happen again," he said.

That evening, dinner was quieter than usual.

Damien barely touched his food, his attention divided between his thoughts and me. Every time I shifted in my chair, his eyes followed. Every time I paused, he noticed.

"You're staring," I said softly.

"I'm observing," he corrected.

"That's not reassuring."

"It's intentional."

I didn't know what to say to that.

After dinner, we ended up in the library-an unplanned coincidence that felt anything but accidental. The room was warm, filled with shelves of leather-bound books and soft lamplight.

"I didn't expect Nancy to escalate so quickly," I admitted.

"She's reacting," Damien said. "Not thinking."

"To what?"

"To losing control," he replied calmly.

I hugged myself lightly. "This isn't what I signed up for."

He turned to face me fully. "Tell me what you did sign up for."

I hesitated. "Stability. Safety. Distance."

His gaze held mine. "Distance isn't possible anymore."

My heart skipped. "Why?"

"Because you're involved now," he said. "Whether you intended to be or not."

I looked away. "This was supposed to be simple."

"I don't do simple," he replied.

Something in his voice made me look back at him.

"Damien... this contract-"

"-was my idea," he interrupted. "And I don't enter agreements without considering the end."

"And what did you consider?" I asked quietly.

He stepped closer-not touching, but close enough that I could feel his presence.

"That you would eventually matter," he said.

My breath caught.

"And now?" I whispered.

"Now," he said, voice low, "I'm adjusting my plans."

The admission sent a shiver through me.

"I should go," I said quickly.

He didn't stop me.

But as I turned to leave, he spoke again.

"Hazel."

I paused.

"You're safe here," he said. "With me."

I nodded and left, my heart pounding.

Later that night, I stood on my balcony, staring out into the darkness, trying to calm the storm of thoughts in my head.

Below, the garden lights flickered softly.

And across the mansion, Damien stood at his window, watching the faint glow from my room.

Seven years of discipline.

And it was slipping.

Because for the first time, the idea of losing control terrified him more than the consequences of keeping it.