Chapter 6 The Cage Gets Closer

The aftermath of the engagement party threw a storm cloud over Helena's head. Their pictures, which appeared on the front page of every major newspaper, portrayed them as the ideal power couple. Since then, word of the upcoming wedding had spread through social media, and her father had been in good spirits. Helena, on the other hand, felt like she was going to die soon. She read the online articles in her bedroom, each more revolting than the previous.

A match made in heaven for business.

The century's most influential couple, David Wolfe and Helena Sinclair-fate or plan?

She threw her phone to the side, frustrated. There was no longer a way out. The world had accepted that she had become a public spectacle as a result of this engagement.

When the doorbell rang, she stood up.

"Come in," she called, half expecting her father.

Damien entered instead, appearing far too content in her space.

He leaned on the doorframe with his arms crossed wearing his trademark black outfit.

"I don't remember asking you to come in," she said .

"I don't need an invitation," he replied.

He moved away from the frame and walked in with a grin on his face.

"Remember how engaged we are? I have the right to check on my fiancée." She grinned at him. "If you came to bask in your victory, spare me."

He never wavered in his smile.

"I am here to talk to you."

Helena's eyes narrowed.

"What relate to?" "Our relationship." Her stomach began to turn. "Already?"

"Your father didn't seem like he would delay, did he?"

Her attention was focused on Damien's.

"He would like this to be finished as soon as possible,"

She took a big inhale.

"How rapidly?" "A month long.?"

Her breath was labored. That is absurd.

In any event. Everything has already begun to move. Helena stood abruptly and circled the room.

"I can't marry you in a month. I absolutely cannot marry you."

Damien sighed and rubbed his temple as if anticipating this response. "I assumed that we had already established that you have no choice." She turned to face him and twisted.

"I never run out of options."

It was difficult to read his expression as he looked at her.

"Then leave."

Helena raised her head.

"What?"

"Run as far as you can out that door.Check your endurance before your father pulls you back. Determine how long it takes before I proceed."

The threat that was underlying was evident, despite his calm, almost bored voice. Helena tightened her hands.

"You are a demon."

Slowly, Damien got closer to her.

"No, my sweetheart. I'm doing this to shield you from something much worse. "

ML

She inhaled deeply, struggling to grasp the meaning behind his words.He changed the subject, however, before she could proceed with her inquiry. Tomorrow is when the wedding planner will arrive. Helena gave a bitter smile. "She will, naturally." "You'll need to act the part, Helena," Damien continued, his tone becoming more stern. "The entire world is watching. Every aspect of this wedding will be scrutinized. She lowered her head. And if I say no, what happens?

He took a single step forward. She added, "Then I will remind you why you agreed to come." The spark of suspense ignited their silence.

Sunlight streamed through the massive windows, forcing Helena awake.

She had been momentarily lost in the maze when reality hit her like a sledgehammer when she saw the neatly hung suit coat.

Damien Wolfe was more than just a nightmare; he existed and could not be avoided. A soft knock on the door made her sit up.

"What?" She called, sounding drowsy.

A housekeeper got a glimpse inside when the door slightly opened.

"Mr. Wolfe asks you to join him for breakfast.

Helena exhaled. Of course he did.

Damien sat as he had read the morning paper; he made them almost feel like an elderly married couple when she came in.

Seeing it literally twisted her stomach.

"You're late." He responded without looking up.

"I didn't know I had a schedule," she said back. His gaze flickered up to her.

His gaze shifted to hers.

"You do now. We have our first public appearance as a couple this afternoon. You'll need to dress the part."

Helena raised an eyebrow. "And what does 'the part' involve? Smiling on cue? Laughing at your awful jokes?"

"In all honesty, I think you should focus less on sarcasm and more on convincing the world about this engagement," Damien remarked.

"Or what?" she inquired, leaning in closer, her eyes just inches from his.

Despite the challenge in her gaze, his expression remained unchanged.

"You will regret it," he said.

That sent a chill through her. Helena didn't know what was the worse thing of two; whether it was the indifferent tone he used or the fact that she actually believed him.

By the time they finally reached the charity gala, Helena felt drained by Damien's, it seemed, endless demands. A stylist had been brought in, the dress was chosen, and every little detail of how she was expected to conduct herself had been laid out like a script.

But Helena Sinclair was no puppet.

Once inside the grand ballroom, Helena fixated on her latest flawless smile. The blinding flashes of the cameras, the murmurs of high society, surrounded her but she was furious within.

Damien's hand rested softly on her waist, a quiet gesture that conveyed so much without words.

"Just be nice," he whispered in her ear, causing a delightful shiver to run down her spine.

She turned just enough to keep her expression blank, "Don't push me."

Before Damien could respond, they were interrupted.

"Helena! It's been ages."

She turned in time to see someone she believed to be Christopher Langford, an old friend from her college days, approaching with a glass of champagne in hand.

Damien stiffened against her.

"Christopher," Helena exhaled, already distinctly glad to see a familiar face.

Langford's gaze flicked to Damien before he smirked.

"So, you must be the infamous fiancé. I have to say, I was expecting someone a little warmer."

Damien's smile was polite yet as cold as ice.

"And I was expecting someone who knew the meaning of boundaries."

Keep away from him."

Helena arched an eyebrow. "Jealous, Wolfe?"

He clenched his jaw. "I don't trust him."

She smirked. "Good. I don't trust you either."

Damien let out an exasperated breath.

"You are playing a very dangerous game, Helena."

She stared him down. "I suppose that makes us both gamblers now."

Damien chuckled lowly, but there was something in his eyes that resembled humor somewhere on the spectrum past heavenly and into the dark side.

Helena could not tell whether she had just won this round or alternatively had made a much more fatal error.