My Billionaire Husband Doesn’t Love Me

Carmela froze, her body stiffening. Own her? He didn’t just say that. Did he? She pulled away, her gaze scanning his expression for any trace of amusement, a clue that he could be joking, yet there was none. His demeanor was serene, deliberate, and completely resolute. This must be a form of a joke, she considered, or perhaps she was imagining it. Yes that was it. She was going to wake up now and everything was going to be fine but when she looked to his face once more, Damion smirk told her otherwise. The drive to the Blackwood estate was silent, the tension in the air was so thick that Carmela could barely breathe in her wedding gown. When they arrived, the sprawling mansion loomed before her like a palace - cold, grand, and intimidating. As they stepped inside, Damion didn’t bother with pleasantries. He turned to her, his gray eyes sharp and commanding. “There are rules you’ll follow in this house.” Carmela blinked. “Rules?” “Yes, rules.” His tone was clipped, as th

The car was silent, the hum of the engine was the only sound as Carmela sat stiffly in the backseat, her hands clenched in her lap. Beside her, Damion exuded his usual air of dominance, his tailored suit immaculate and his piercing gray eyes fixed ahead.The tension between them was palpable, but neither said a word as the car glided through the city streets toward the gala.Carmela stole a glance at him. Even in silence, he was intimidatingly perfect. His defined jawline appeared capable of slicing through steel, and his dark hair was casually arranged, with one lock falling perfectly to create a nonchalant appearance. His cologne—a mix of earthy elegance—filled the car, causing her heart to race. Her gaze flicked away before he could notice her staring, though her heart refused to settle. Why did she keep looking at him? Why did he have to look like that? So hot and sexy?As the vehicle came to a halt, the whispers of reporters and photographers outside could be heard. Carmela tigh

Carmela stepped out of the bathroom, her face still wan yet calm, with Lily next to her. The atmosphere around them felt denser, saturated with the unvoiced burden of Lily’s persistent worry and Carmela’s escalating nervousness.Before either had the chance to talk, a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in a black suit emerged at the hallway's entrance. A bodyguard of Damion. His demeanor was authoritative, and his voice was strong but courteous as he spoke to her.“Ma’am, we have to leave now. Master Damion is waiting for you.”Carmela blinked, her brows furrowing. She exchanged a brief, questioning glance with Lily before responding. “Leave? But the event isn’t over yet. What’s the sudden change of plans?”The guard stayed impassive, his face lacking any expression. "I'm just obeying instructions, ma'am."Her belly twisted. Something felt off.With a forced smile, she turned back to Lily, grasping her hand gently. “I—I guess I have to go. Call me later?”Lily squeezed her hand in ret

The tension in the mansion was suffocating. After slamming the bedroom door behind him the previous night, Damion hadn’t spoken another word to Carmela.By morning, she awoke to find his side of the bed untouched. The house was eerily quiet, the weight of his absence pressing down on her chest.In his office, however, the morning was anything but silent.Damion sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, his gray eyes fixed on the city skyline beyond the towering windows. He didn’t move as his assistant, Leonard, stepped into the room with a stack of files.“Sir,” Leonard began, his voice cautious, “you asked for an update on the Blake family’s situation.”Damion’s gaze didn’t waver. For a long moment, he said nothing, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the polished wood.“Pause everything,” he said finally, his voice low but resolute.Leonard blinked, clearly taken aback. “Pause, sir? But we’re nearly at the final stage. If we pull back now—”“I said pause,” Damion cut in, his tone sharp

Carmela sat frozen on the edge of the bed, her breath shallow as Damion’s words echoed through the room.“I want the truth,” he repeated, his voice sharp and unyielding. “No more lies, no more excuses. Tell me. Who’s the father?”Her chest tightened. She couldn’t look away from his piercing gray eyes, the weight of his demand pressing against her like an invisible force.“Damion, I…” she faltered, her voice barely above a whisper.He stepped closer, his broad frame towering over her. “You what?” he pressed, his tone colder now. “You’ve been hiding something, Carmela, and I will find out. So tell me—how far along are you?”Her hands gripped the edge of the bed, her knuckles turning white. The truth teetered on the edge of her lips, but fear kept it locked inside.“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I—I don’t know how to explain—”“I don’t need explanations,” he snapped, cutting her off. “I need facts. If you’re carrying my child, I deserve to know. And if you’re not…” His ja