Chapter 4

***FLASHBACK***

"Good morning, sir. These are the lists of potential interviewees and their designs," Damien's secretary said as she presented the designs to him that fateful day.

The heels of his shoes clinked on the tiled floor as he made his way around the dresses hung elegantly on display.

His gaze shifted from one design to another, each one telling a unique story through its intricate details and choice of fabrics.

But none seemed to capture his utmost attention except for one, which hung on the left row of the display.

It was a dress made of shimmering, iridescent fabric that seemed to shift colors as it moved.

The fabric caught the light and glittered like a rainbow, making the dress appear to glow.

The silhouette of the dress was classic and elegant, accentuating the figure of the mannequin it was placed on without revealing too much.

The color of the dress was a deep, rich purple, reminiscent of the last rays of the setting sun.

This particular dress stood out like a radiant gem among the others, beckoning him closer with its perfect style and artistry.

Damien's steps quickened as he approached this remarkable creation.

"Who made this dress?" He asked, pointing at the dress.

"One Miss Aella Thompson, sir," came his secretary's reply.

"I want her information," he demanded.

"Of course, sir." Going through her tablet briefly, she handed it to him, her information displayed on the screen.

Shocked to see the picture of the same young lady who slapped him, anger surged inside him, and he subconsciously rubbed his right cheek.

"Return her design to her and cancel her from the list of potential interviewees," he said all of a sudden, shocking his secretary, who had believed he was impressed by the design, and that was why he asked for the creator's details.

"Sir?" She asked, earning an arched eyebrow from Damien.

"Did you not hear what I said? I said, Return her design to her and cancel her from the list of potential interviewees!" He said this, raising his voice, causing the poor lady to flinch in fear.

"But, sir, if I may, her design stands out from the others here. A permit to add... it even outmatches the work of our current dressmakers."

"I'm afraid if we don't offer her a chance, our competitors might snatch her up." She trailed off, her voice wavering under Damien's intense gaze.

It was the first time she had spoken against his wishes, and from the expression on his face, she feared she might be fired.

However, despite the anger he displayed, her words prompted Damien to think without restraint.

She was telling the truth; this girl's design was too perfect, though not quite as perfect as his own creations. He said to himself inwardly:

He thought about the situation for a few more minutes.

It was undeniable that he couldn't allow her talent to benefit his competitors, but at the same time, he had the desire to make her face consequences for her actions that day.

Just as he was lost in thought, his phone rang, jolting him back to reality.

Damien retrieved his phone from his pocket and noticed that his mother was calling.

As usual, he immediately knew she was calling to remind him to bring home a girl he wanted to marry, and just as quickly, an idea took root in his mind.

He quickly answered the call, placing the phone against his ear. "Hello, Mom... I'm at work. I'll call you back in a bit," he stated before ending the call.

Damien then refocused his attention on his secretary, who had braced herself for a typical outburst from him when he got angry.

"Disregard my previous instructions. Send her an email for her final interview, but I want to conduct it myself. Is that clear?" He issued the command, this time with a softer tone than before.

"S-sir?" His secretary stammered in a shaky voice, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor.

Damien sighed in exasperation, softly pinching the bridge of his nose and briefly closing his eyes in an attempt to control his frustration before addressing her again.

"You were right... She's talented, and we can't afford to lose her to our competitors. So, please send her an email requesting a final interview tomorrow morning."

"And make sure she's directed to my office when she arrives," he calmly explained as he turned to leave. However, he was interrupted by his secretary's voice once more.

"Sent to your office for what, sir?" She inquired, seeking clarification.

Damien turned, shoulders slightly raised in a shrug, and replied sarcastically, "Oh, nothing... I just thought I'd invite her for a friendly game of chess and maybe offer her tea too."

He then let out an exasperated hiss, clearly irritated, before turning away and walking off, leaving his secretary feeling rather foolish for asking such a dumb question.

As soon as he got into his office, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and called his private investigator's number.

"Hello, I want you to find every piece of information on a lady named Aella Thompson," Damien ordered as soon as the investigator picked up the call.

"I'll send the little details I have on her to you right now," Damien continued.

"Alright, sir," came the investigator's reply. With that, he hung up the call, a sinister smirk etched on his lips as he thought about his plan.

"I'm going to use one stone to kill two birds."

***FLASHBACK ENDS***

Aella remained standing, still in shock; she never expected him to be the CEO of the company.

"Sit," he said, pointing to the seat in front of him.

"Why?" She managed to croak out, "It's not like you have the intention of hiring me anyway," she concluded.

There was no way someone like him would overlook what happened between them a few weeks ago and offer her a job, she thought.

He had likely only allowed her into his office to ridicule her and exact revenge, like the way of the rich. It was better for her to leave now and search for a job elsewhere.

"Now, now, don't jump to hasty conclusions, Miss Thompson. You're a skilled and talented dressmaker, which is exactly what we need at Damien's Fashion World. I do have intentions of hiring you, but..." he paused, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

"But what?" Aella asked impatiently. "If you think I'm going to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness, then don't even bother saying it because I won't." She tried to maintain her composure, although deep down, she was quite affected.

Damien chuckled briefly. "Beg for my forgiveness? No, darling, I have something much better in mind. But I'll only disclose it if you take a seat."

Taking a seat beside someone like him? Aella questioned herself, wondering what condition he could possibly propose.

After a few seconds of hesitation, she reluctantly agreed to sit and hear him out. Damien wasted no time and began speaking.

"Marry me," he demanded, "and I'll handle your grandmother's hospital bills and your brother's court case... Otherwise, prepare to face assault charges for hitting me and potential jail time."

Aella felt like she had just been hit in the face, shocked by his words as she stared at him with wide eyes.

"Marry you?" She repeated, and he nodded confidently, and Aella burst into laughter.

"You…m..mu..St…be…kid…kidding," she said amidst the laughter.

Damien's irritation grew as he responded, "Do I look like I'm joking?" His tone turned even more serious, causing Aella to halt her laughter and gaze at him with a puzzled look.

She couldn't help but wonder, "How did you find out about my grandmother and my brother's situation?" She asked, seeking answers, and he scoffed.

"I'm Damien Suvillen, darling," he simply replied without giving further explanation, and then cleared his throat.

"Now, back to what we were saying...It's either you marry me and I take care of everything I mentioned earlier, or you get sued for assault and get jailed just like your brother." He said it with a tone of finality.

Aella's brows furrowed. " Jail?just because of a slap? That's absurd." 

Damien leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "You underestimate my influence, darling. With a few well-placed calls, I can make this'simple slap' turn into a much bigger legal issue."

"Assault charges, a trial, media attention... Do you really want all that?"

The tension in the office intensified as he continued, "Marry me, or I'll make your whole life a living hell. The ball is in your court, darling. Which post are you kicking it into?"

"You must be a joker!" Aella said it all of a sudden, slamming her hands on the table as she stood up.

"Even if you are the last man on Earth, I'd prefer to stay single than to marry you." And with that, she turned to leave but came to a halt as soon as she heard the next words that came out of his mouth.

Damien's tone remained firm as he asked, "Even if your grandmother dies?" He continued, "I've been informed that if the transplant doesn't happen this week, her chances of survival decrease significantly in the following week." He paused, letting his words sink in.

"Miss Thompson, I've made all the necessary arrangements, including finding a donor... There won't be a need to donate yours. Just give me your word, and it will be done."

*******

The wedding hall is a vision of pure romance, with white linen tablecloths and sparkling crystal chandeliers.

Bouquets of fresh flowers adorn the tables, filling the air with their fragrance.

The windows are draped with ivory silk, and the room is bathed in soft candlelight.

There is a sense of magic in the air, a feeling of anticipation and joy.

Everyone is dressed in their finest attire: the women in beautiful gowns and the men in crisp suits.

Standing face to face with the man she now dreaded the most, Damien.

He was dressed in a deep navy blue suit with a subtle sheen that caught the light.

The fabric is smooth and luxurious, and it fits him perfectly. His tie is a rich burgundy, and his shoes are polished black.

Everything about him is impeccable, from the tip of his shoes to the top of his neatly styled hair. He looked very dashing.

For the bride, her beautiful wedding gown cascaded around her.

The dress is simple and elegant, with a flowing skirt and a fitted bodice, and a small train trailing behind her. But despite the beauty of the dress, her eyes are full of doubt and uncertainty.

Aella began to question her decision to marry a man she barely knew, especially one with such a disgusting character.

"Do you, Damien Sullivan, take Aella Thompson as your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest asked, facing Damien.

"Yes, I do." He replied without hesitation and with a smile on his face.

Turning to Aella, "Do you, Aella Thompson, take Damien Sullivan as your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked.

Aella, who was lost in thoughts and questioning her decision, didn't hear the priest as she pondered her decision.

If she were to change her mind now, her grandmother's treatment would be stopped, and her brother would remain in jail. and for fifteen years!

"Do you, Aella Thompson, take Mr. Damien Sullivan as your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked again.

The congregation was already murmuring.

Damien's mother was already worried as sweat broke on her forehead. Why was this girl hesitating?

It would be a great embarrassment to the family if Aella were to suddenly call off the wedding after all the expenses incurred and the prominent guests she had carefully invited to witness her son's wedding.

Damien, who was holding Aella's hand, noticed that she seemed lost in her thoughts.

He squeezed her hand, snapping her back to the present.

She looked from him to the priest, who repeated, "Do you, Aella Thompson, take Damien Sullivan as your lawfully wedded husband?"

After some seconds of silence, she finally replied, "Yes, yes, I do," feeling like she had just accepted to sell her soul to the devil.