Chapter 8 Eight

The sound of heels clicking against polished marble filled the quiet hallway outside Damian Sinclair's office. The receptionist, Olivia, barely had time to protest before the woman swept past her, exuding confidence and entitlement in equal measure.

Katherine Royce.

Dressed in an ivory dress that clung to her curves, her hair cascading in elegant waves, and an air of superiority radiating from her every step, she looked every bit the woman who once stood at Damian's side.

And she was determined to reclaim that position.

Ignoring Olivia's protests, Katherine pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside Damian's office as if she owned the place.

He looked up from his desk, irritation flickering across his sharp features. "Katherine." His tone was flat, unimpressed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She smiled sweetly, stepping forward. "Visiting my husband."

His jaw clenched. "We were never married."

She let out a soft laugh, circling his desk with slow, deliberate steps. "No, but we were almost married. And the world still remembers that."

Damian leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Cut to the chase. What do you want?"

Katherine perched herself on the edge of his desk, crossing her legs gracefully. "Is that any way to greet the woman who once had your ring on her finger?"

His gaze darkened. "Get off my desk, Katherine."

She tilted her head, pretending to consider it, then leaned in slightly. "Oh, Damian," she murmured. "Still so cold. Still pretending you don't care."

His patience was wearing thin. "If this is about the rumors, I don't have time for your games."

Katherine's lips curved. "Oh, but I do. The media's talking, Damian. People are wondering if we're getting back together. And frankly, I don't see why we shouldn't let them."

Damian exhaled sharply, his fingers pressing against his temples. "You're delusional."

She reached out, trailing a manicured finger along the edge of his desk. "Am I? Because from where I'm standing, I see a man who hasn't moved on."

He scoffed. "That's where you're wrong."

Katherine smirked. "Oh? You mean with that girl?" She waved a dismissive hand. "Please. We both know she's nothing but a phase."

Damian's expression turned lethal. "Careful, Katherine."

She leaned closer. "Why? Does the truth sting?"

His hands curled into fists. "You don't get to waltz in here and act like you still have any claim over me."

Katherine's smile didn't waver. "Maybe not legally. But you and I both know our story isn't over."

Damian stood abruptly, his towering frame looming over her. "It was over the moment you betrayed me."

Her expression flickered-just for a second-before she smoothed it over with another smug smile. "I made a mistake. But you?" She placed a hand on his chest, ignoring the way he stiffened. "You still want me."

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, firm but not cruel, as he pulled her hand away. "You're wasting your time, Katherine."

She studied him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. Then, with a slow smile, she stepped back.

"We'll see about that."

And with that, she turned and walked out of his office, her confidence unwavering.

But Damian knew better than to believe she was gone for good.

Katherine never walked away from something she wanted.

And right now, she had set her sights on him once again.

Damian had barely stepped foot into the grand Sinclair estate when an unsettling feeling settled deep in his chest. He wasn't one to get anxious, but something about tonight felt off.

His mother had invited him for dinner, which wasn't unusual. But the moment he entered the dining room, he realized this was no ordinary family gathering.

Katherine was there.

Sitting at the table as if she belonged.

Her parents, Charles and Eleanor Whitmore, were also present, their polished appearances and tight smiles telling him everything he needed to know-this wasn't just dinner.

It was an ambush.

His mother, Celeste Sinclair, smiled warmly. "Darling, you're here. Come, sit."

Damian didn't move.. "What is this?"

Richard Sinclair gave him a calm but firm look. "A family discussion."

Katherine stood gracefully, her lips curving into a soft smile. "Damian, it's been a while."

His fingers curled into fists at his sides.

"Not long enough."

His mother shot him a look of warning. "Damian, please. Katherine and her family are here because we all care about you."

"Really?" He arched a brow. "Because it looks like you're trying to manipulate me into something I didn't agree to."

Charles vale sighed. "Son, this isn't about manipulation. It's about what's best for everyone."

Son?

Damian almost laughed.

Katherine's mother, Eleanor, leaned forward with a kind smile. "We know things have been difficult between you and Katherine, but that doesn't mean you should throw away what you two had."

What they had?

Damian's jaw tightened. If only they knew the truth.

His mother gestured to the chair beside Katherine.

He clenched his jaw. He wanted to walk out, but he knew his father. If he left now, they would only push harder. So instead, he exhaled slowly and pulled out a chair, deliberately choosing the one farthest from Katherine.

The meal was served, but Damian barely touched his plate.

His mother exchanged glances before his mother finally spoke. "Katherine has told us how much she regrets what happened between you two."

His eyes snapped to Katherine, who was watching him carefully, as if testing the waters.

"I do regret it, Damian," she said softly. "I know I made mistakes, but I never stopped caring about you."

His lips curled into a humorless smile.

Mistakes?

That's what she was calling it?

He leaned back, arms crossed. "Is that so?"

Katherine nodded, her expression sincere-for anyone who didn't know her better. "I was young and foolish, but I've had time to reflect. And I miss you."

His mother cleared his throat. "We all think it would be good for you two to reconcile. The bond between our families is strong, and a marriage-"

Damian let out a short laugh. "There it is. The real reason for this dinner."

Eleanor Whitmore gave a polite smile. "It's not just about business, dear. We always believed you and Katherine were meant to be."

His mother nodded. "She was by your side for years. We thought the two of you had something special."

Damian's eyes darkened.

He had thought so, too-until he learned the truth.

But his family didn't know.

Because he had never told them.

He had never told them that the woman they adored had betrayed him in the worst way possible.

And now, she sat across from him, pretending as if nothing had happened.

He turned to Katherine, his gaze sharp. "Tell me, Katherine. Did you explain to them why we ended things?"

A flicker of something crossed her face-hesitation.

Then she smiled sweetly. "We had our differences, Damian. But that's in the past."

The past?

His grip tightened around the wine glass in front of him.

She was playing the victim, pretending like she hadn't shattered everything between them.

His mother r sighed. "Son, we're not asking you to make a decision tonight. Just... consider it."

His mother reached for his hand, her eyes pleading. "At least talk to her."

Damian exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain calm.

They didn't know.

And as much as he wanted to expose Katherine for what she was, he wasn't about to turn this into a scene.

Not yet.

Instead, he set his glass down and pushed back his chair.

"I appreciate the dinner," he said coolly. "But if you think I'm going to entertain this ridiculous idea, you're mistaken."

Katherine's face fell, but before she could speak, he turned to his parents.

"If you try this again, I won't bother showing up next time."

And with that, he walked out.

Let them sit in their fantasy.

But he wasn't going to be part of it.

Not now. Not ever.