Chapter 5

The dining room fell dead silent.

The security chief stood frozen by the door. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Elara Vang was a frequent guest, and the Vang family had deep ties. Throwing her out like trash was a massive escalation.

His eyes darted past Giovanna, landing directly on Damien. He needed the real boss to give the green light.

Elara saw the hesitation. A spark of hope ignited in her chest. She kept clutching her heart, but her tear-filled eyes locked onto Damien, silently begging for mercy.

Giovanna didn't yell at the guard. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head to look at Damien. She waited. This was a test.

Damien slowly stood up from the table. His long fingers reached down, methodically buttoning the center button of his suit jacket.

He walked around the table until he stood right behind Giovanna. He wrapped his heavy arm around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest. It was a blatant, physical claim of ownership.

Damien stared at the security chief. His eyes were completely dead. His voice dropped to a terrifying, sub-zero register.

"Did you not hear my wife's order?"

The security chief flinched as if he had been struck. He snapped his spine straight. "Yes, Boss! Right away!"

"And from now on," Damien added, his voice echoing in the large room, "my wife's orders are my orders. Disobeying her is disobeying me. The consequences will be exactly the same."

The words hit the room like a bomb. It was a complete transfer of power. Giovanna wasn't just a wife on paper anymore; she was the absolute ruler of the Blackwood empire.

Two massive bodyguards stepped forward. They grabbed Elara by her upper arms, hauling her off the floor.

Elara panicked. The fake heart attack vanished. She kicked her legs, her expensive heels scraping against the floorboards. "Let me go! Damien, you can't do this! I'm a Vang!"

The guards ignored her screams. They dragged her backward out of the dining room, down the long hallway, and out the front doors.

Giovanna leaned back against Damien's solid chest. She watched through the large windows as the guards hauled Elara down the long driveway and literally tossed her out the wrought-iron gates.

Elara hit the cold asphalt hard. Her pristine white skirt was covered in dirt.

A few luxury cars driving past the estate slowed down. The wealthy occupants rolled down their windows, pointing and whispering at the disgraced socialite sitting in the dirt.

Elara bit her lip so hard it bled. The humiliation burned her skin.

Inside the dining room, the maids rushed to clean the spot where Elara had been sitting, scrubbing the floor as if removing a toxic spill.

Damien looked down at the top of Giovanna's head. His chest rose and fell heavily.

He reached up, his thick fingers gripping her chin. He tilted her head back, forcing her to look up into his dark, searching eyes.

"Are you satisfied now?" Damien asked, his voice a low rumble. "You used me to get rid of her. What exactly are you planning?"

He gave her the power, but his deeply ingrained paranoia wouldn't let him believe this was real.

Giovanna didn't pull away from his grip. She looked straight into the storm in his eyes and rose onto her toes.

She pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I plan," she whispered against his skin, "to only be a problem for you from now on."

Damien's heart physically skipped a beat. The heavy walls in his mind cracked a little more.

Giovanna stepped back, breaking the tension. She glanced at the antique grandfather clock in the corner.

"Oh, no," she gasped, her eyes widening. "I have to go to Oakhaven University for the freshman orientation today!"

The word 'university'. The concept of 'leaving the estate'.

The air around Damien instantly froze. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a terrifying, suffocating darkness.

His arm clamped around her waist, tightening like a vice, pulling her so hard against him it knocked the breath out of her lungs. His eyes turned feral.