Chapter Three- Her Husband's Greatest Rival

HER HUSBAND’S GREATEST RIVAL

Celeste Morgan had seen Damian Blackwood on the covers of business magazines, on television, and once on a billboard towering above the expressway into the city.

She had never expected to meet him on a morning when her marriage was falling apart.

He stood beside a black Mercedes, dressed in a charcoal suit that fitted his broad shoulders perfectly. One hand rested in his pocket while the other held a slim leather folder. He looked as though he had stepped out of a boardroom rather than into the middle of someone else’s disaster.

For years, Damian’s company had been the biggest obstacle to Julian’s ambitions. Blackwood Holdings had beaten Morgan Enterprises in major contracts, taken clients Julian believed were his, and challenged his company in markets Julian had spent years trying to dominate.

Julian hated him.

And now Damian Blackwood was standing in front of her.

Celeste tightened her grip on her handbag.

“What exactly do you want from me?”

His gaze settled on her face. “A conversation.”

“With my husband’s business rival?”

“Your husband’s business rival,” he repeated, as though the distinction amused him. “Interesting way to introduce me.”

“Would you prefer that I call you the man who has spent years trying to destroy my husband’s company?”

“Does Julian describe me that way?”

“He describes you in much worse terms.”

For the first time, something almost resembling a smile touched Damian’s mouth.

“Then he has been paying attention.”

Celeste did not smile back.

She had spent the last twenty-four hours discovering how little she knew about the man she had married. She had found photographs of him kissing her best friend, learned that Isabella was carrying his child, and been presented with divorce papers prepared before she even knew her marriage was ending.

Then she had discovered a document bearing her name and a claim to the founding shares of Morgan Enterprises.

Now Julian’s greatest rival had appeared with a warning about those very shares.

It was too convenient.

“You knew I would be here,” she said.

“I knew you would try to access the company records.”

“That isn't an answer.”

“No.” Damian glanced towards the glass entrance of Morgan Enterprises. “It isn't.”

His refusal to explain himself unsettled her more than an elaborate excuse would have. Most people became uncomfortable when questioned directly. They filled the silence, defended themselves, or tried to make her feel unreasonable for asking.

Damian simply waited.

It was as though he had all the time in the world and expected her to be the one who eventually surrendered.

She would not.

“If you think my marriage is an opportunity to ruin Julian, you should find another way to do it.”

His expression changed slightly.

“Is that what you think I'm doing?”

“Why else would you approach me? You have competed against him for years. Suddenly, his wife discovers his affair, his family’s company records, and a possible claim to shares that could complicate everything. Then you appear to offer help.” She shook her head. “I may have been foolish about my husband, Mr. Blackwood, but I am not stupid.”

“I haven't suggested that you are.”

“Then stop speaking to me as if I should be grateful you noticed my existence.”

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

The morning traffic moved behind them. A security guard crossed the entrance, glanced in their direction, and quickly looked away. Celeste wondered how many people were watching and how quickly a rumour about her meeting Damian would reach Julian.

The thought made her stomach tighten.

Damian seemed to notice.

“You're worried someone will see us together.”

“I'm worried that everything I do will be twisted into another weapon against me.”

“That is a reasonable concern.”

He opened the leather folder and removed two sheets of paper.

“Which is why you should see these before deciding whether to walk away.”

Celeste did not reach for them.

“What are they?”

“The first is an extract from an old company registration record. The second is a summary of a proposed share transfer filed yesterday.”

Her attention sharpened.

“Yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“The day Julian gave me the divorce papers?”

“The same day.”

A cold feeling travelled down her spine.

Damian held the documents towards her. This time, she took them.

The first page contained details about the original structure of Morgan Enterprises. She recognised the company’s old name and the date of its registration. She also recognised Richard Morgan’s name, listed among the founding officers.

Then she saw her mother’s name.

Margaret Morgan.

Celeste stopped breathing for a moment.

Her mother had died when Celeste was young. For years, she had believed that Margaret had played only a minor role in the early days of the company, helping Richard with administrative work before illness forced her to step away.

That was what the Morgan family had always told her.

But the document suggested something different.

Beside her mother’s name was a reference to an original founding allocation. Another line referred to shares assigned to her mother’s estate, subject to the terms of the original agreement.

Celeste read it twice.

“What does this mean?”

“It means there is evidence that your mother held an ownership interest in the company at its formation. Depending on the original agreement, subsequent transfers, and the terms of her estate, you may have a legitimate claim to some of those shares.”

“May have?”

“I'm not going to promise you ownership based on two pages of records. A competent lawyer will need to examine the original documents, the company filings, and the history of any transfers.”

The answer was more careful than she expected.

He was not promising her a fortune. He was telling her there was a door she had never known existed.

She looked at the second page.

It was a summary of a proposed transfer involving shares associated with the original allocation. The recipient was a company she did not recognise. The filing had been initiated by an authorised representative of Morgan Enterprises.

The date was yesterday.

“Who submitted this?”

“The name is in the full filing.”

“Do you have it?”

“I have enough information to know the transaction deserves scrutiny. I do not have every underlying record, and I won't pretend otherwise.”

She looked up sharply. “Why are you showing me this instead of taking it to the authorities?”

“Because I am not your lawyer, and I cannot determine from this summary alone whether the transfer is unlawful. But if you have a legitimate interest in those shares, you should know what is happening before anything is finalised.”

“Who benefits if the transfer goes through?”

“That is the right question.”

“Mr. Blackwood.”

“Possibly a company connected to Julian's family. Possibly someone else. The ownership structure is complicated enough that I would rather you investigate it than accept my interpretation.”

Celeste lowered the pages.

“You expect me to believe you are doing this out of concern for a woman you have never met?”

Something flickered in his eyes.

It vanished so quickly that she wondered whether she had imagined it.

“I didn't say that.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

“The truth is that Morgan Enterprises has been operating in ways that concern me. A company whose ownership records are being rearranged while its chief executive is preparing for a divorce is worth examining.”

“You make it sound like a business opportunity.”

“It is a business opportunity.”

His bluntness caught her off guard.

Damian continued, “If Julian has been using questionable corporate arrangements to protect his position, exposing them could benefit my company. I won't insult you by pretending otherwise.”

At least he was honest about one thing.

“And if helping me gives you a shareholder in Julian's company who might cooperate with you?”

“I would welcome a shareholder who makes independent decisions.”

“You would welcome one who agrees with you.”

“I would prefer one who reads the evidence.”

Despite herself, Celeste almost laughed. It would have been an absurd thing to do, standing outside the building where her husband had humiliated her, discussing corporate governance with the man he despised most.

But the laugh never came.

“Suppose I recover the shares,” she said. “Suppose the records prove they belong to me. What then? Do you expect me to vote against Julian whenever you ask?”

“No.”

“Do you expect me to give you information about his company?”

“No.”

“Then what exactly are you offering?”

“Access to legal resources, help understanding the corporate filings, and a way to protect your interests while you establish what you are entitled to.”

“And in return?”

“Nothing you have agreed to yet.”

She studied him carefully.

His voice was calm, but there was a tension around his eyes that did not match his composure. He seemed to be choosing every word with unusual care, as though the wrong sentence might expose something he had spent years keeping hidden.

It was not the behaviour she expected from a man reputed to crush his competitors without a second thought.

She noticed another detail then.

A faint scar crossed the base of his right thumb. His fingers tightened around the leather folder whenever she mentioned Julian, though the rest of his body remained still. And when she spoke about her mother, he had looked at her—not at the document—with an expression she could not quite understand.

He looked almost as though her mother's name had hurt him.

“Did you know my mother?” she asked.

For the first time since he approached her, Damian appeared genuinely unprepared.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you looked at her name as if it meant something to you.”

His gaze held hers.

“Your mother was an important part of Morgan Enterprises' early history.”

“That isn't what I asked.”

“No,” he said quietly. “It isn't.”

The answer left her more unsettled than before.

She folded the documents carefully and returned them to him.

“I need a lawyer. My own lawyer. Someone who has no connection to you, Julian, or either company.”

“Agreed.”

“I will not sign anything you give me without independent advice.”

“I would be disappointed if you did.”

“And I will not let you use me to settle your rivalry with my husband.”

Something colder entered his expression.

“Celeste, your husband has already used you. He simply made the mistake of believing you would never notice.”

The words struck too close to the truth.

She looked away.

For seven years, she had defended Julian whenever his business decisions failed, made excuses when he missed important occasions, and quietly sacrificed things that mattered to her so that he could have what he wanted. She had sold her mother's jewellery to help save his company, believing that the life they were building belonged to both of them.

Now he had looked her in the eye and told her she was nothing more than a wife.

She would never forget that moment.

When she looked back at Damian, her voice was steadier.

“I'll meet with you. But I make no promises.”

“That's all I'm asking for.”

“Where?”

“My office. Four o'clock this afternoon. My legal adviser can attend, and you can bring your own counsel if you wish.”

“I haven't found one yet.”

“Then take the time you need. We can reschedule.”

Again, he did not pressure her.

It was a small thing, but after the previous night, it felt almost unfamiliar.

She slipped her phone from her handbag and checked the time. She had a missed call from an unknown number and three messages from Julian.

The first read: Where are you?

The second: We need to settle this privately.

The third had arrived less than a minute ago.

Do not make a mistake you will regret, Celeste.

Her fingers went cold.

Damian noticed her expression.

“Julian?”

She locked the screen. “He seems to have remembered I exist.”

“Does he know you're speaking to me?”

“Not yet.”

“Then I suggest you keep it that way until you have independent legal advice.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Why? Afraid he might find out you're helping me?”

“I'm not afraid of Julian.”

The certainty in his voice was not loud or theatrical. It was simply there.

Celeste believed him.

That frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

She stepped back. “I'll decide whether to come to your office after I've spoken to a lawyer.”

“Of course.”

She turned towards the road, determined to leave before he could draw another secret out of her.

“Celeste.”

She stopped but did not turn immediately.

“What?”

“When you speak to your lawyer, don't tell them only about the share-transfer document. Tell them about the original allocation, your mother's estate, and the date on which Julian presented you with the divorce papers.”

“Why the date?”

“Because timing matters. If a transaction was initiated while your ownership claim was being concealed or disputed, your lawyer will need to examine whether the sequence of events has legal significance.”

She absorbed that.

Then, despite her better judgment, she turned to face him.

“Why are you so determined to help me?”

For a moment, the traffic noise seemed to fade into the background.

Damian looked at her with an intensity that made her feel he was seeing more than the woman standing before him. It was not pity. She knew what pity looked like.

This was something older. Something personal.

“Because,” he said, “Julian Morgan is not the only person who has underestimated you.”

“Who else has?”

His jaw tightened.

“People who assumed you would never question the story you were given.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he opened the car door and gestured towards the passenger seat.

“Four o'clock, if you decide to come. We'll discuss the terms of my offer, and you'll be free to walk away afterward.”

“My decision will not depend on your offer.”

“Good.”

She took a step back.

“Mr. Blackwood?”

“Yes?”

“If this is some elaborate game, I promise you that I won't be an easy person to play.”

His gaze softened by the smallest degree.

“I would never expect you to be.”

She walked away without looking back.

Yet she could feel his attention following her until she reached the pavement.

For the first time since discovering Julian's affair, Celeste had a reason to believe she might not be as powerless as her husband wanted her to think.

But she also had a new problem.

Damian Blackwood knew things about her family that she had never been told.

And she could not decide whether he had come into her life to help her uncover the truth—or because he had been waiting for this moment long before she knew it was coming.

───

At 3:52 p.m., Celeste stood outside Damian Blackwood's office.

She had spent most of the afternoon searching for an independent solicitor and had secured an initial consultation for the following morning. She had also photographed the documents Damian had shown her from memory as carefully as she could, writing down every detail she remembered while it was still fresh.

She had not agreed to trust him.

She had agreed to listen.

That was all.

His office occupied the top floor of a glass tower overlooking the city. The receptionist led her through a quiet corridor into a private conference room where a long table stood beside floor-to-ceiling windows.

Damian was already there.

His jacket hung over the back of his chair, and his sleeves were rolled neatly to his forearms. Without the jacket, he looked less like the untouchable billionaire from magazine covers and more like a man who had been working for hours without a break.

He looked up as she entered.

“You came.”

“I said I would consider it.”

“And you considered it.”

“Don't make me regret it.”

He pulled out a chair for her but did not insist when she chose the one opposite him.

A thin folder lay on the table.

Celeste kept her handbag on her lap.

“Before we begin,” she said, “I want to make something clear. I will not sign over my shares, surrender my inheritance, or agree to anything that gives you control over my life.”

“Understood.”

“And if your proposal involves anything illegal, I'm leaving.”

“Understood.”

“And if you expect gratitude—”

“I don't.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You answer very quickly.”

“I've had a long day.”

For the first time, a genuine smile threatened the corner of her mouth. She suppressed it.

Damian noticed. She was certain he did, because his gaze lingered on her face for half a second longer than necessary before he opened the folder.

“I can help you recover your shares, protect your future and bring Julian to account,” he said. “But I need you to do one thing for me.”

He removed a single sheet of paper and slid it across the table.

Celeste looked down.

At the top was a heading printed in bold black letters.

CONFIDENTIAL PERSONAL AND LEGAL PROPOSAL

She read the opening paragraph, then the terms beneath it. Most of the language was formal, carefully worded, and clearly drafted by a lawyer.

Then her eyes reached the final line.

Her fingers went still.

Marriage for a fixed term: six months.

For several seconds, she could only stare at the words.

Then she lifted her head.

“You have got to be joking.”

Damian did not smile.

“No, Celeste. I'm not.”

She pushed the paper away as though it had burned her.

“My husband betrays me, throws me out of our marriage, and now his greatest rival wants to marry me?”

“I know how it sounds.”

“Do you?” Her voice rose despite her effort to control it. “Because it sounds like you think I'm so desperate that I'll exchange one man who wants to control me for another.”

“That's not what I'm asking.”

“Then what are you asking?”

Damian leaned forward, his expression unreadable.

“I'm asking you to consider a marriage that could change everything you believe about your husband, your family, and me.”

Celeste stared at him.

“Why me?”

For the first time that afternoon, Damian's composure slipped. It was only a moment, barely more than a tightening in his jaw, but she saw it.

His eyes moved to her face, and something in them made her heart beat a little faster.

“Because,” he said quietly, “there are things about your past that you deserve to know.”

“And marrying you is supposed to reveal them?”

“Not everything can be explained in one afternoon.”

She stood, clutching her handbag.

“I came here to discuss my shares, Mr. Blackwood. Not to become your wife.”

“I understand.”

“No, I don't think you do.”

She turned towards the door.

Then he spoke again.

“Celeste, before you leave, ask yourself one question. If Julian knew what was written in that document, why did he wait until the day he presented you with divorce papers to try to move those shares?”

She froze.

She hated that he was right to ask.

Slowly, she turned back.

Damian remained seated, the proposal between them.

“Read the entire document before you decide,” he said. “Take it to your lawyer. Change the terms if necessary. Reject it if you wish. But don't let Julian's betrayal convince you that every choice left to you is a bad one.”

Celeste looked down at the page again.

Six months.

A marriage to the one man Julian could never defeat.

A man who knew something about her mother, who watched her as though they shared a history she could not remember, and who had just offered her a future that made absolutely no sense.

She should have walked away.

Instead, she reached for the proposal.

“I'm taking this to my lawyer,” she said. “And nothing happens until I understand every word.”

Damian inclined his head.

“Fair enough.”

She tucked the document into her handbag and headed for the door.

Just before she reached it, his voice stopped her once more.

“One more thing, Celeste.”

She looked over her shoulder.

“Don't tell Julian about this meeting.”

“Why?”

For a long moment, Damian said nothing.

Then he answered with a quietness that sent an unexpected chill through her.

“Because if he discovers what I'm offering you, he won't just try to stop our marriage.”

His eyes held hers.

“He'll do everything he can to make sure you never discover why I offered it in the first place.”