Chapter 6THE PAST RESURFACES

CHAPTER 6:

Days passed by,weeks, and months passed by and Selene had learned to survive in Damien’s world by keeping her head down and choosing her battles. But lately, something felt… off.

It started with the hushed voices. She would walk into a room, and conversations would abruptly stop, suddenly. The staff in the penthouse would glance at her with unreadable expressions before scurrying away.

Then there were the calls. Late at night, Damien’s deep voice would drift from his study, low and clipped. Whenever she approached, the door was always locked.

Selene tried to shake it off. But Damien was a businessman. He had secrets. That had nothing to do with her.

One evening, she was passing by his office when she heard her name.

She froze.

“…Selene Carter,” Damien’s voice was sharp. “Find everything you can.”

Selene’s stomach twisted. “Find everything?” She whispered. She pressed closer to the door.

There was A pause. Then Damien’s voice again.

“I don’t care how deep you have to dig. I want every last detail.”

Her heart pounded.

Was he investigating her? Why? Hadn’t he already destroyed her life enough?

Selene backed away before he could catch her eavesdropping. But her mind was still racing like a mad dog.

“What was he looking for?”

That night, she barely slept. Memories started creeping in, uninvited. The past,the moment that had ruined everything between them. But as she turned it over in her mind, something nagged at her.

Had she missed something?

Meanwhile, Damien sat in his study, swirling a glass of whiskey. His gaze flickered toward the door where Selene had been standing just moments ago. He smirked.

Selene knew she was playing with fire. But after days of Damien controlling her every move, something inside her snapped.

Tonight’s event was another grand display of power—billionaires, media cameras, and the illusion of a perfect marriage.

And Damien was in full control.

At the gala, he paraded her around like a trophy, his grip firm on her waist, his whispers low and taunting.

"Smile, sweetheart. The whole world is watching."

Selene smiled—but this time, it wasn’t just for the cameras. She decided to test the limits.

During dinner, Damien introduced her to influential investors, expecting her to stay silent and obedient. But instead, she spoke up.

The investors exchanged amused glances, intrigued by the woman Damien had "fallen for."

Damien’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t expected her to play the game this way.

When the media asked about their marriage, Selene painted a different picture.

"It wasn’t love at first sight," she said, tilting her head, "but Damien has… many sides."

The reporters laughed, sensing something else beneath her words.

Damien leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"Careful, Selene." His voice was dangerously low. "You don’t want to push me.".

Later, when they danced for the cameras, she deliberately let another man’s hand linger on hers too long.

Damien’s grip on her waist tightened. And then, without warning—he humiliated her.

"My wife is still adjusting to high society," Damien told the guests smoothly, as if she was nothing but an inexperienced outsider.

The crowd chuckled.

Selene’s cheeks burned.

But instead of shrinking away, she met Damien’s gaze head-on.

"At least I’m learning quickly, darling," she shot back sweetly, making the crowd laugh at Damien instead.

His eyes darkened. Selene had just crossed the line.

After the event, Selene stepped outside for air. That’s when a stranger approached her.

A man in a dark suit, his voice low and urgent.

"You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into," he warned. "Damien Lancaster is more dangerous than you think. Watch your back."

Selene’s breath hitched. Who was he?

But before she could respond, a hand wrapped around her wrist.

Damien. He pulled her close, his grip firm, his scent intoxicating.

"Who are you talking to, wife?" he murmured.

Selene’s heart pounded. He had seen everything.

“No one…!”

Later that night, back at the penthouse, the tension boiled over.

"You think you’re clever, don’t you?" Damien taunted, backing her against the wall.

Selene refused to cower.

"You can’t control everything, Damien."

His smirk faded. Something shifted between them.

And then in a split of seconds he kissed her.

He kissed her very Hard. The feeling was Intense.

Selene’s mind screamed to resist, but her body betrayed her.

For a second, she kissed him back.

Then, just as suddenly, Damien pulled away.

His eyes were unreadable.

"Be careful, Selene," he murmured. "You don’t want to start wanting me."

Selene stayed awake that night, staring at the ceiling, her lips still tingling from Damien’s kiss.

It had been a mistake. It was A moment of weakness. But the worst part? She wasn’t sure if it was his or hers.

The next morning, Selene avoided Damien. Or at least she tried to. But in his world, there was no escaping him.

At breakfast, he was calm, composed, and unreadable.

"Sleep well, wife?" he asked smoothly.

Selene didn’t answer, focusing on her coffee instead. Damien smirked. He knew exactly what he was doing.

The day passed in silent tension.

Later, Selene wandered the penthouse, trying to find a moment of peace.

That’s when she saw something unexpected.

Through the glass doors of Damien’s study, he sat alone, a whiskey glass in hand, staring at an old photograph.

Selene’s breath hitched. It was a picture of them Years ago. Back when they were happy.

She felt something crack inside her.

Why was he holding onto the past if he hated her so much?

For a split second, he looked… human. Like the Damien she once knew. But then, he noticed her.

His expression hardened instantly.

"Enjoying the view, sweetheart?" His voice was mocking, but she saw the flicker of emotion in his eyes.

Selene hesitated.

"Why do you still have that picture?" she asked softly.

Damien’s jaw tightened.

Then, without a word, he tossed the photo into a drawer and slammed it shut.

"Go to bed, Selene," he ordered, walking past her.

But she didn’t miss the way his fingers lingered on the drawer, as if he wasn’t ready to let go.