Married to the Heir

Damien Lancaster stepped into the dimly lit bar, rolling his shoulders as he took in the scent of whiskey and faint traces of cigarette smoke. Here, in this rundown place on the outskirts of the city, no one knew who he was. No one cared. And that was exactly what he wanted.

He wasn’t Damien Lancaster, heir to the billion-dollar Lancaster empire. The cold, powerful family that built their fortune through ruthless business tactics, controlling the industry and everyone in their orbit. Tonight, he was just another guy, blending into the crowd, free from his father’s overbearing expectations and the weight of his last name.

Dressed in a worn leather jacket, a black t-shirt, and jeans, Damien took a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey. The bartender slid him a glass, and he took a slow sip, the burn grounding him in the present. That was when he saw her.

Across the room, Sienna Brooks laughed, her warm brown eyes sparkling under the neon lights. Her wavy chestnut hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the simple floral dress she wore hugged her curves in a way that made her look effortlessly beautiful. She wasn’t like the women Damien was used to—no expensive designer labels, no forced charm, no ulterior motives. Just a woman enjoying her night, unaware that she had captured his full attention.

For a moment, he debated looking away. He wasn’t here to get involved with anyone. But then her eyes met his, and something electric passed between them.

Sienna felt it too. She hadn’t planned on catching anyone’s eye tonight. She was just here to unwind with her best friend after another exhausting week at the diner where she worked. But the way this stranger looked at her—intense, curious, as if she was the only person in the room—made her pulse quicken.

Before she could second-guess herself, he was already making his way toward her.

“Mind if I join you?” His voice was deep, smooth, laced with a confidence that sent a shiver down her spine.

She raised an eyebrow. “Depends. You gonna tell me your name, or do I have to guess?”

He smirked. “Damien.” No last name. No history. Just Damien.

“Sienna.”

He slid into the seat across from her, and before she knew it, they were talking. And talking.

Damien hadn’t expected to enjoy a conversation this much. Most women either threw themselves at him when they found out who he was or tried to play a game, acting indifferent but clearly hoping for something. Sienna did neither. She was bold, teasing him when he smirked too much, laughing at his dry humor, and calling him out when he dodged personal questions.

“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” she mused, stirring the straw in her drink.

He tilted his head, intrigued. “What makes you say that?”

She leaned in slightly. “You’ve got that look. Like you don’t follow rules but somehow still get away with everything.”

Damien chuckled. If only she knew. “Maybe. But you don’t seem like someone who follows the rules either.”

She shrugged. “I follow my own rules.”

Something about her made him forget everything—his father’s suffocating control, the constant pressure to be perfect, the empty women at high-society parties. Right now, there was only her.

One drink turned into two. Two into three. Time blurred as the neon lights pulsed around them, but all Damien could focus on was Sienna—the way she bit her lip when she was thinking, the way she laughed with her whole body, the way she made him feel… normal.

Then she shifted closer, and his eyes dropped to her lips.

Sienna noticed. Her heart pounded as she asked herself if this was reckless. Probably. But for once, she didn’t want to overthink. She didn’t want to worry about tomorrow or consequences.

So when Damien leaned in, she didn’t pull away.

The kiss was slow at first, testing, teasing. But then it deepened, igniting something neither of them could ignore.

By the time they broke apart, breathless, the decision had already been made.

Tonight, nothing else mattered.