After I Died, My Husband Suddenly Began to Love Me

This was not happening.

No way was I going to let that bastard win.

My sister, Clara, would never marry that greedy man. Not while I was alive.

Those thoughts kept running through my head as I stormed into the office building with Adam right beside me. People stared. Some whispered. But no one tried to stop me. Good. Because I wasn’t in the mood to be stopped.

How dare Damien Cross try to take advantage of my little sister only weeks after our father’s funeral?

The air inside the building felt sharp, heavy with the smell of polished wood and expensive cologne. Every step of my shoes echoed across the marble floor. I pulled at the front of my suit jacket, trying to look calm, though my chest was tight. Maybe I was nervous, maybe I was angry maybe I still had feelings left after all.

“Sir, excuse me ” a woman’s voice called behind me.

I ignored her.

“Sir!” she called louder, rushing toward me. I could hear the quick steps of her heels. Adam, always sharp, moved in her way before she could reach me.

“Sir, you can’t go in ”

Too late. My hand pushed the big office doors open with a loud thud, and I walked right in.

The room was large, almost too large, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Four men in black suits turned their heads toward me, but I didn’t care about them. My eyes went straight to him.

Damien Cross.

The man who wanted to ruin my life.

He stood from his chair slowly, with the kind of calm that made my blood boil. And for one small second one stupid second I almost admitted he was just as handsome as the magazines said.

Tall. Dark hair slicked back. Sharp jaw. Eyes like steel.

Shut up, brain. He’s the enemy.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cross!” the woman from earlier ran in, panting. “I tried to stop him ”

“It’s not your fault, Claire.”

His voice. Damn it, his voice. Deep, smooth, and strong. The kind that made my stomach twist in the worst way. A baritone that seemed to slide into my chest and stay there.

He looked at me like I was amusing him. Like this was some game. Like he already won.

“Well?” he said, raising a brow.

“I’m Adrian ”

“I know who you are.”

Rude.

“I’m here about my sister,” I said firmly, holding his gaze.

Damien turned to the men in the room. “Leave us.”

In seconds, they left. Adam too. Even his secretary. The door clicked shut, and suddenly it was just me and him.

The silence stretched. I could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, the hum of the city below. My palms were sweaty, but I clenched them into fists at my sides.

“Why her?” I asked, my voice hard.

He chuckled, leaning back against his desk like this was all casual. “Simple. I want to grow. Your company is the right chance.”

“You mean stepping on us to get bigger?”

“I mean saving you from falling apart.” His smirk grew. “It’s a good deal.”

“You call it saving. I call it using us.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“At least I still have a heart.”

He laughed softly. The sound was low and dangerous, like he was humoring a child. “Hearts don’t keep companies alive, Adrian.”

“You’re not marrying Clara,” I snapped, my voice louder this time.

He tilted his head, studying me like I was some puzzle. “And why not?”

“She loves someone else. A good man. And what kind of brother would I be if I let her marry you just for money?”

“You’d be the kind of brother who protects his family’s business,” he said smoothly, every word slow, sharp, deliberate.

I rolled my eyes. Of course money meant more to him than love. That was all he cared about numbers, deals, contracts. Not people. Not feelings.

But then his gaze sharpened, pinning me in place. “What about you?”

I frowned. “Me?”

“Yes. Do you have a boyfriend?” He leaned forward slightly, his lips curving. “From what I’ve heard, you’re gay.”

My throat tightened. Heat rose to my face. Damn it. Of course he knew. Of course a man like him had his claws in every corner of the city, even my personal life.

“So what?” I forced out, my voice cracking just a little. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is now.”

He stood up, his tall frame moving toward me like a shadow swallowing the light. Each step felt louder than it should, heavier. My breath caught in my throat.

“That means the problem is solved,” he said.

“Huh?”

Before I could react, his hand was under my chin, tilting my face up. His touch was firm but not rough, his fingers long and warm against my skin. My heart kicked in my chest so hard I was sure he could hear it.

My skin burned where he touched me. My face heated, blood rushing to my cheeks.

And then his eyes met mine. Up close, they weren’t just cold steel they had fire in them too. Sharp, dangerous fire that made it impossible for me to look away.

Every line of his face was perfect, like he had been carved out of marble. His lips so close I could feel the ghost of his breath against mine.

I should have pushed him away. I should have slapped his hand off my face. But my body froze, betraying me.

And then, in that deep voice that made my chest ache, he whispered 

“Marry me.”

The words hung in the air like a bomb. My eyes widened. My lips parted, but no sound came out.

He was insane. Completely insane. And yet… the way he said it, the way his gaze burned into mine, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or deadly serious.

My throat went dry. My mind screamed no, but something inside me something I didn’t want to name stirred at the thought.

This man, this enemy, this bastard… wanted me.

Wanted me.