Chapter 5 Dinner with the Devil

Damien didn't ask if I wanted to go.

He told me.

"There's a family dinner tonight," he said, stepping into my office like he owned the oxygen. "At the estate. Father's demand. Everyone will be there."

I didn't look up from the SkyVault audit prep. "You mean Daniel and the woman who wore my wedding dress."

Damien gave a faint smirk. "I assume she had it cleaned."

I looked up now. "Is this a strategic play or a sacrificial offering?"

"Both," he said. "But you'll be armed. You've already shaken the board. Let's shake the family next."

I stood, slow and deliberate. "You think I'm ready to smile across a dinner table at the man who destroyed me?"

"No," Damien said. "I think you're ready to make him squirm while you toast champagne with his brother."

-

The Blackwood estate sat just outside the city, nestled behind iron gates and a long, winding drive that cut through perfectly manicured hedges like a blade. The mansion itself was a modern Gothic fortress-stone, glass, and generational wealth soaked into every corner.

A butler opened the door before we even rang the bell.

"Mr. Damien," he greeted coolly. Then he turned to me. "And Ms. Carter. Welcome."

As if we were welcome.

Damien's hand rested on the small of my back as we stepped inside. It was possessive but light, the way someone might guide a weapon they'd just sharpened.

The entryway was all cold stone and expensive silence. Portraits lined the walls-Blackwoods of past and present, men with the same jawline and colder eyes.

We didn't even make it to the dining room before we ran into Daniel.

He froze at the top of the stairs.

The silk of his tie was perfectly knotted. His jaw clean-shaven. The same scent I used to love clung to the air-but it made my skin crawl now.

"Lena," he said, like tasting something bitter.

I smiled sweetly. "Daniel."

He looked between me and Damien, something sour curdling in his throat. "You brought her here?"

Damien didn't flinch. "You brought a thief to my boardroom. I figured it balanced out."

Footsteps echoed behind Daniel as she appeared.

Ariana.

Once my best friend. My maid of honor.

Now Daniel's wife.

She wore white-again-as if that would rewrite the history she helped burn. Her smile was saccharine and surgical.

"Lena," she said, feigning surprise. "What a shock. I heard you've been...busy."

"Oh, I have," I said, looping my arm through Damien's. "Turns out heartbreak makes a great business plan."

A flicker of something passed through her-uncertainty. Discomfort. Maybe guilt. But it vanished quickly.

She leaned in and kissed Daniel's cheek. "Come, darling. Let's not keep Father waiting."

-

The dining room was a battlefield dressed in linen and crystal. The long table gleamed beneath an antique chandelier. The family patriarch, Richard Blackwood, sat at the head.

A lion in a tailored suit. Hair white, eyes like steel. He didn't rise when we entered.

"Sit," he said simply.

I was placed at Damien's right. Daniel and Ariana across from us. The tension in the air could've sliced through bone.

Courses arrived. Small talk stumbled. And then the real conversation began.

"So," Richard said, folding his napkin like it was a contract, "you're back in the family business, Damien."

Damien took a sip of wine. "For now."

"And you've brought a plus-one."

I lifted my glass. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blackwood."

He studied me like a predator sizing up unfamiliar prey. "You're the woman Daniel almost married."

"Almost is generous," I said sweetly. "He never showed up."

Daniel's jaw tightened.

Ariana reached for her wine.

Richard turned to Damien. "And now you're...what? Sleeping with your brother's ex-fiancée to make a point?"

I didn't blink.

But Damien smiled slowly. "Oh no, Father. I'm building a new empire-with a partner who actually earned her seat."

Silence.

Then Richard laughed. Cold. Dry.

"You always did enjoy theatrics."

Damien's voice dropped a shade. "And you always did enjoy loyalty. Shame you backed the wrong son."

I almost dropped my fork.

The insult hung like a loaded gun over the silverware.

Daniel's mouth opened, but Ariana squeezed his hand beneath the table.

"This feels hostile," she said with a false laugh. "Maybe we should keep dinner...cordial?"

I turned to her. "You slept with my fiancé and wore my dress to the altar. Forgive me if I have trouble with etiquette."

Ariana blinked.

Daniel glared at Damien. "This is a joke. You two pretending to be-what? In love? You think people won't see through this?"

"Of course they will," I said. "Eventually. But in the meantime, we'll enjoy every moment of it."

Damien reached for my hand, slowly, deliberately. His thumb traced the inside of my wrist. My skin betrayed me-it heated, pulsed.

"This isn't about appearances," he said calmly. "It's about accountability. Something you've never learned."

Daniel shoved his chair back. "You want to lecture me? After you torched your own career?"

"No," Damien said, rising now. "I want to warn you. Whatever you stole-your time is running out."

Daniel stormed out of the room, Ariana close behind, whispering something harsh.

Richard didn't move. Just watched.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Damien," he said finally.

"We both know I've always been better at it than him."

Richard's eyes flicked to me. "And you? What do you get out of this circus?"

I held his gaze.

"Revenge."

He smiled.

For the first time.

Then went back to eating like we hadn't just set the table on fire.

-

We didn't speak again until we were in the car. The silence was electric.

Finally, I turned to Damien. "That dinner was a bloodbath."

"You held your own."

"I wanted to do more than that."

He looked at me, something flickering in his eyes.

"You did."

I didn't ask what he meant.

Instead, I stared out the window and watched the estate disappear behind us.

Let them see the ashes.

I was done being burned.

Now I would be the match.