Chapter 2: The Cold Wedding Night

I step into the penthouse, the door closing behind me with a soft thud that echoes in the silence.

“Welcome to your new life,” Damian's voice cuts through the stillness, sending a shiver down my spine.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my hands trembling slightly. His words should have been comforting, but there’s nothing warm about them. Not when his tone feels like ice.

“Your sister was supposed to be here, but she decided otherwise,” he continues his gaze hard and calculating. "Now, we have to make do with the substitute.”

Substitute. The word stings more than I want to admit. I lower my gaze, unwilling to let him see how deeply it affects me.

“I wasn’t given a choice,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, but firm enough to show him I’m not completely broken yet.

Damian narrows his eyes, stepping closer. “Oh, you were given a choice. A very clear one. You just chose wrong.”

His words strike like a slap, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. His harshness is like a weight pressing down on my chest, but I stand tall, refusing to let him see the tears threatening to spill.

“I’m not here to take her place,” I say, lifting my chin. “I’m here because of circumstances beyond my control. That’s not the same.”

He laughs, a low, mocking sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Do you honestly think I care about your circumstances?” He turns, walking across the room with measured steps, his presence overwhelming. “You’re nothing but a pawn in my game, Naomi. You and I both know that.”

I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand the pressure I’m under.

“Whatever you think of me,” I say, my voice steady, “you won’t break me. I’ll survive. I’m not your victim.”

Damian pauses in his tracks, his back still turned to me. “You think you have a choice?” He laughs again, and it sends a cold chill through the air. “I don’t do victims, Naomi. You’ll learn that quickly enough.”

Before I can respond, the sound of high heels clicking against the marble floor echoes in the hallway. I freeze, my heart skipping a beat.

The door swings open, and I barely have time to process the figure stepping into the room before she speaks.

“Well, well. The bride-to-be.”

I glance over at Damian, my stomach sinking.

A woman, tall and elegant, stands in the doorway. She’s stunning—blonde, confident, her gaze locked on me with an intensity that could burn through stone. Her smile is sharp like she’s enjoying every second of this.

“Damian, darling,” she purrs, stepping further into the room. “I see you’ve already made yourself comfortable.”

I feel my breath catch in my throat.

This is his ex. The woman who haunted every inch of this place before me. She’s too beautiful, too poised, too everything. And she’s here to make sure I know I don’t belong.

“Leave,” Damian commands, but his voice has lost some of its edge. There’s something else in it now—reluctance?

The woman steps closer, ignoring him completely. “I don’t think so. Not yet, at least.” She turns to me, her eyes scanning me up and down, a smirk curling her lips. “So, this is the replacement, huh? How quaint.”

I try to hold my ground, but inside, I feel my confidence begin to crumble.

“I’m not—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, leaning in, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I’m sure you’ll make yourself at home. After all, you’ve been given everything. What else is left?”

The venom in her words twists the knife deeper, and I can’t help but feel like I’m drowning. Damian’s indifference only makes it worse. He doesn’t care. He’s just letting her insult me, letting her tear me down.

“Enough,” Damian growls, his patience wearing thin. “Leave. Now.”

The woman raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by his command. “You never did learn how to share, Damian.” She steps away from me, her eyes flicking back to him one last time before she glances at me with a final, smug smile. “I’ll let you two have your fun. For now.”

She turns and exits the room, the door slamming shut with a force that makes me jump.

Damian doesn’t move for a moment. The silence between us is suffocating, and I can barely breathe. I want to scream at him, to demand why he’s allowing this, but I know it won’t do any good.

“Do you want to sleep in the same bed as her?” he asks coldly, his words a cruel mockery.

I feel my stomach churn, the thought of sharing anything with him, let alone a bed, revolting. “No,” I reply firmly, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to remain strong. “I want to sleep alone.”

“Then go,” he says, turning his back on me once again. “I’m not interested in pretending we’re anything other than strangers. You’re free to do as you wish.”

His words sting, but I can’t show him how much they hurt. Not now. Not when he’s already shown me how much he despises me.

I turn and make my way to the door of the room I’ve been assigned. The moment I step inside, I hear the click of the lock behind me, and I know I’m trapped. But I’m not sure what’s worse—the isolation or the cruelty that waits for me in the other room.

I close my eyes, sinking into the plush sheets.

How did it come to this? How did I end up here?

The sound of a door opening again breaks my thoughts.

Damian’s voice drifts in, his tone low, full of quiet menace. “I told you never to expect love from me, Naomi. I meant it.”

I press my palms against my ears, trying to block out his words, trying to block out the pain.

But it doesn’t stop. It never does.

And then, I hear the footsteps.

A soft knock at the door.

My heart races.

I slowly get up from the bed, my hands shaking, my breath shallow. I know who it is before I even open the door.

“Damian,” I whisper.

His eyes lock onto mine, cold and calculating. “You’re not as innocent as you think,” he says, his voice a dangerous whisper.

And before I can respond, he steps closer, his breath mingling with mine, and I can feel the weight of the tension between us.

"I warned you," he murmurs, "this is just the beginning."

I step back, my chest tightening. My heart thunders.

What does he mean? What’s he going to do next?

The door behind me clicks shut with a finality that sends a chill through my body. And then, I hear the low growl of his voice, dangerously close.

“You better be prepared for what’s coming.”

And as the sound of his retreating footsteps fades, I’m left wondering if I’ll ever escape his shadow.