The confrontation

Layla's pov 

Damian wasn't merely intimidating—he was untouchable. Each look, each word, each action appeared designed to highlight my inferiority in his realm. I despised feeling like this, akin to a mouse sneaking around a lion. However, I could no longer exist in ignorance. 

After walking around my room for what seemed like hours, I finally found the courage to approach him. Damian was typically in his office during the mornings, so that’s the place I went. My heart raced quicker with each step, my palms moist with perspiration. 

As I approached the door, it was slightly open, and I peeked inside. Damian reclined in his large chair, his demeanor both at ease and authoritative. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, creating a warm radiance on the dark wood and leather furnishings. He was examining a pile of documents, his forehead wrinkled in focus. 

For a moment, I thought if going back . He still hadn’t seen me, and I could return to the safety of my room. However, I refused to allow fear to dictate my actions. 

Inhaling deeply, I entered. “Damian,” I spoke gently. 

He didn't lift his gaze right away. As he did, his intense gray eyes locked onto mine, causing me to freeze. His stare was as piercing as always, as if he could look right through me, revealing each layer to unveil my vulnerabilities.

“What is it this time?” he asked, his voice steady yet tinged with annoyance. 

"I need to speak with you," I said, my voice shaking even though I tried hard to sound assured. 

He reclined in his chair, folding his arms across his torso. "Concerning what?" 

I gulped noticeably, my throat parched. "Concerning my family." And… why did you marry me? 

His lips twisted into a slight smirk, yet it lacked warmth or friendliness. It was a smile that made you feel small, unimportant. "Ah, so you don't want to back down" 

His scornful tone caused my stomach to twist. "I want the truth, Damian," I stated, attempting to sound resolute. 

He motioned to the chair located in front of his desk. "Take a seat." 

"I prefer to stand." 

His grin widened, and for an instant, I believed he was going to pursue the matter. He merely shrugged, inclining a bit forward. "Do as you wish." 

The silence lingered between us, thick and oppressive. At last, Damian began to speak. "Your father," he started, his tone steady yet frigid, "is not who you believe him to be." Monroe Enterprises didn't rise to prominence through diligence or strong morals. It rose to the summit by defeating all those who opposed it.”

I nodded my head, denying his words. "That isn't correct." 

“It is,” he replied sharply, narrowing his eyes. "Your father altered agreements, took clients unlawfully, and ruined partnerships." “He abandoned my family with nothing.” 

His words struck me like a blow. “No,” I murmured, nodding my head. "You are not telling the truth." My dad wouldn’t—” 

“Quit the charade, Layla,” Damian cut in, his voice cold. "You’ve lived in a bubble your whole life, unaware of reality. Your father isn’t the saint you believe him to be.”

Tears burned in my eyes, yet I would not allow them to drop. “Why are you telling me this now?” 

“Simply because you asked,” he replied. "You sought the truth." And the reality is, this union was never based on love. "It's regarding revenge." 

“Revenge?" My voice faltered. 

Damian's gaze grew somber. "Your family has taken all from mine, and now I’m reclaiming it." 

The breath departed from my lungs. “So I’m merely… a part of your vengeance?” 

"Yes," he replied promptly, his voice as icy as metal. 

I felt the earth was crumbling underneath me. My knees shook, and I needed to hold onto the chair's back to regain my balance. “You're heartless,” I murmured, my voice hardly heard. 

"Heartless?" Damian emitted a resentful chuckle. "You don’t know what cruelty truly is, Layla." "However, don’t be concerned—you’ll discover it in no time." 

His words struck like daggers, piercing the delicate hope I had held on to. I couldn’t remain in that room another moment. Without uttering another word, I spun around and fled, the echo of my footsteps resonating in the corridor. 

That night, I rested in bed fully alert, staring at the ceiling. My chest was weighed down, as if a significant weight was lying on me. Damian’s voice echoed repeatedly in my thoughts. "Your father took all from my family." “You're involved in my revenge.” 

How can this possibly be true? My father had flaws, but he wasn't the antagonist Damian portrayed him as. Or was he not? 

I needed answers, but I know Damian wouldn’t provide me with anything else. If I sought the truth, I would need to uncover it on my own. 

The following morning

I awoke early and went to the library in the penthouse. The spacious room was packed with books and papers, most of which pertained to Damian's entrepreneurial activities. I began sifting through past financial documents and news reports, searching for anything that might validate or refute Damian’s account. 

At first I couldn't find anything. But then a document caught my attention. Agreements that were unexpectedly terminated. Collaborations that ended under questionable conditions. Customers who changed their loyalties seemingly in an instant. 

Everything was there. Damian was right. My father had shattered his family, abandoning them with nothing. 

I felt nauseous. All that I believed I understood regarding my family and my father turned out to be false. However, there was an additional matter, something even more disturbing. 

I understood that Damian's ascent to power was not merely driven by revenge. He was constructing something larger, something riskier. His investments were purposeful, his acquisitions deliberate. 

And I found myself trapped in the midst of everything. 

My father’s treachery, Damian’s icy resolve—it was all too much for me to take in. But, one thing was sure: I could not rely on anyone, not even the person I was married to. 

I understood I had two options. I could remain a piece in Damian’s scheme, or Icould discover a means to take back control of my life. 

The question was, how?