Chapter 3

THE WEDDING HALL

The grand hall was filled with murmurs. Press cameras flashed, capturing every moment. Wealthy guests in designer suits and gowns whispered among themselves, their curiosity piqued by the sudden shift in events.

Damian stood tall, his expression unreadable. He had spent years mastering the art of masking emotions, but tonight—tonight, something inside him twisted.

He was about to speak when his mother, Mrs. Victoria, stepped forward, her voice carrying authority.

“We found out the child Evelyn is carrying is a bastard.” Her words cut through the air like a blade. The murmurs turned into full-blown gasps.

Damian’s hands clenched into fists.

“She tried to trap my son with another man’s child,” Mrs. Victoria continued, her tone laced with disgust. “She ran away when the truth was exposed. A liar and a disgrace. She is unfit to be the Blackwood heiress.”

The room exploded with hushed conversations. Journalists scribbled furiously, their cameras clicking non-stop.

Damian’s jaw tightened. The way his mother spoke—so effortlessly, so cruelly—made something boil in his blood. His instincts screamed that something was wrong. But the letter, the video, Evelyn’s ex… all of it pointed to one truth.

Evelyn had lied to him.

Hadn’t she?

Isabella, standing beside him in a white gown, reached for his arm, smiling softly for the cameras. “It’s okay, Damian,” she whispered. “Let’s move on.”

Damian exhaled sharply. Move on? Was it that easy?

Then why did it feel like something was slipping through his fingers?

The ceremony was over. The grand hall, once alive with whispers and flashing cameras, was now silent. The wedding of Damian Blackwood and Isabella Carter had concluded without a hitch—at least on the surface.

The Blackwood name remained untarnished. The guests had seen what they were supposed to see. The perfect union. The powerful merger.

But behind closed doors, the truth was far less elegant.

As they entered the master bedroom of the Blackwood estate, Isabella stood in front of the mirror, unpinning her veil. The diamond tiara on her head sparkled under the chandelier’s light, but Damian didn’t spare her a glance.

Instead, he loosened his tie, his movements sharp, almost impatient.

Isabella turned to face him, her smile coy. "We’re finally married," she murmured, stepping closer.

Damian exhaled slowly, his gaze cold and unreadable. "You wanted this marriage so badly. And now you have it." His voice was low, steady—but laced with quiet venom.

She reached for the buttons on his shirt, but he caught her wrist midair. Firm. Unyielding.

Her breath hitched. "Damian?"

His eyes burned into hers. Unmoved. Unforgiving.

"You’re my wife by title only." The words were like steel—cutting and final. "I don’t love you. I never will."

Isabella’s smile faltered. “But we’re husband and wife now. We should at least try—”

Damian let go of her wrist and took a step back. "We’ll sleep in the same bedroom for appearances’ sake. But that’s where it ends."

THE MORNING AFTER

The Blackwood estate was eerily silent. Morning sunlight filtered through the towering glass windows of the grand living room, casting a cold glow over the polished marble floors. A large television screen mounted on the wall displayed the morning news.

Damian sat at the head of the long, expensive couch, dressed in a crisp black suit. He nursed a steaming cup of coffee, his face unreadable, while Isabella sat beside him, pretending everything was normal.

Victoria, his mother, sat across from them, her posture regal, her expression carefully composed. As always, she exuded control.

But that control wavered for a fraction of a second when the news anchor’s voice cut through the silence.

"Breaking news: A car was found in the river late last night. Officials have confirmed that no body was recovered from the vehicle or the surrounding area."

Damian’s fingers tightened around his coffee cup. Isabella’s gaze flickered to him, then to Victoria, whose perfectly painted lips pressed into a thin line.

Victoria’s grip on her teacup remained steady,She was panicking—but she’d rather die than let it show.

"Sources say the vehicle belongs to—" and then the network went off, Damian turned it on again.

Just as the camera panned toward the half-submerged car, Damian’s phone buzzed sharply. He barely glanced at the caller ID before answering.

"What do you mean?" His voice was sharp, clipped.

On the other end, his personal assistant, Lucas, sounded breathless. "The company is in crisis, Damian. We have a problem."

Damian shot to his feet, his heartbeat kicking up.

Crisis?

Isabella frowned, watching him closely. Victoria set her teacup down with a soft clink, her gaze sharpening.

"What kind of problem?" Damian demanded.

Lucas hesitated for half a second. "Someone’s pulling out their investment. A major one. If this continues… we could lose everything."

The words sent a chill down Damian’s spine.

Victoria straightened. "Who?"

Silence. Then—

"The M&E Group."

His grip on the phone tightened.

"But that’s not all," Lucas added. His voice dropped lower, almost cautious. "Damian… there’s something else you need to know."

“What…..” Damian asked.

“The owner of the company demands fifty percent of their shares and we can't provide it,” Lucas said.

The tension in the Blackwood estate was suffocating. Damian paced the length of the living room, his grip tight on his phone. His mind raced with possibilities—why was M&E Group pulling out? Who was behind it?

Victoria sat still, her face a mask of control, but her fingers tapped against the armrest in irritation. "This is nothing but a temporary setback," she said coolly. "We’ll handle it."

Damian barely heard her. His thoughts were already at the company, at the empire he had built with ruthless precision.

Then, another call came in.

Lucas again.

Damian answered immediately. "Talk."

"Sir…" Lucas hesitated. "Your father is back. He just landed. And he’s coming straight to the company."

Damian stopped dead in his tracks. The air in the room turned ice-cold.

Victoria's fingers finally stilled. Her expression flickered with something unreadable before she recovered. "Impossible. He’s been out of the country for months. Why would he—"

Lucas’s next words cut through the room like a blade.

"He called for an emergency board meeting, Damian. Effective immediately."

Damian's grip on the phone tightened. His father—Alexander—had never interfered in his leadership. Not once. If he was back now, it meant only one thing.