Chapter 5: Moving In, Moving Out.

Elena’s POV

The second we stepped into Damian’s family house, the air turned ice-cold. Not the kind of cold you can blame on the weather, but the kind that seeps into your bones and makes you want to scream or run away. Damian was ready to dive back into his old life, eager to get back to work and pretend everything was normal. Me? I felt like I’d just walked into a goddamn war zone.

His sister was the worst. She smiled like a snake-fake sweetness hiding razor-sharp edges. Every time she looked at me, I felt her eyes burning holes right through my skin. I wasn’t welcome here. Not really.

At first, it was little things-snide comments, cold shoulders, the kind of bullshit you try to ignore but that sticks to your skin like dirt. I told myself to toughen up, that Damian’s presence would smooth things over. But the tension was crushing my chest, drowning me in silence and fear.

One afternoon, when Damian was at work, she cornered me in the kitchen. That fake-ass smile was gone, replaced by something darker, colder.

“You don’t belong here,” she said, voice low but dripping with venom. 

And here we go.

I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down. “I’m here because Damian wants me here. Not you.”

Her laugh was cold and hollow. “You think you can just steal him from us? From me?”

Fuck. The words hit like a punch to the gut. I tried to keep my voice steady, but the anger boiled beneath my skin.

The argument spiraled fast-words sharp as knives, accusations flying. Then she shoved me hard. I stumbled back, my arm smashing against the counter. Pain flared, hot and immediate.

I looked down. A nasty bruise was already dark and ugly.

She watched me with twisted satisfaction, like she’d won some sick game.

But I swallowed the sting and the humiliation. No tears. No screams. Not here. Not now. I refused to look pathetic and fuel her stupid ego.

When Damian came home that night, I pulled my sleeves down over the bruise and plastered on a smile that felt like it was cracking at the edges. I couldn’t tell him-not yet. I wanted to shield him from this shitstorm, keep the fragile peace alive.

But every time he glanced at me with that worried look, my heart twisted. I was fighting this battle alone, and the silence was deafening.

He kept staring until I realized he was looking at the mark.

Oh no. I didn’t want him to see it.

“Hey,” he said softly, voice low but steady. “What happened to your arm?”

I froze, the words catching in my throat. I wanted to cry in my husband's arms and complain of how they're treating me but I couldn't, he's going through a lot already.

“Just bumped it,” I lied, forcing a smile to reach my eyes 

He didn’t push. Instead, he sat close, his presence a quiet comfort. We spent the evening mostly in silence, the tension thick but unspoken. I wanted to tell him everything, but the words tangled in my chest.

**

The next morning, I woke with the bruise throbbing, a dull ache beneath my skin. Damian was already gone to work, and I was left alone with the heavy silence of the house and the cold stares waiting for me.

By evening, the tension had grown unbearable.

I was in the kitchen, trying to steady my shaking hands, when his sister appeared, blocking my path with that fake sweetness that always made my skin crawl.

“You really think you belong here?” she said softly, but the threat was clear beneath her words.

“I’m here because Damian wants me here, how many times must I say this” I said, voice steady despite the fear knotting my stomach.

Her smile twisted. “You think you can just take him away from us?”

Ok now she's just repeating the same words from yesterday in a creepy way.

Oh how I wish I could smash this hoe's head 

The argument spiraled fast with words and accusations sharp as knives. Then she shoved me hard again, and I crashed into the counter, pain flaring in my arm.

I gasped but refused to back down.

Just then, the front door slammed open.

Damian’s footsteps echoed down the hall.

My heart stopped, I felt comforted that mg night in shining armor is here.

I looked over at the bitch and she started making her face seem pitiful like I was the one causing trouble.

Oh hell no!

**

Damian’s POV

I didn’t plan on coming home early. The day had been a fucking grind, but something gnawed at me-a gut feeling I couldn’t shake. I pushed through the front door, and the second I stepped inside our room, the air slammed into me like a punch.

The house felt heavier, darker, like it was holding its breath, waiting for a fight.

Then I saw it.

Elena’s arm. Pale skin marred by a dark bruise creeping out from under her sleeve.

My chest tightened, heart pounding like a war drum.

“Hey,” I said, voice low but steady, trying to keep my shit together. “What the fuck happened to your arm?”

She froze, eyes darting away like she was hiding something from me.

“It’s nothing. I just bumped it,” she said, voice too quiet, too forced.

Bullshit.

I knew better. But I didn’t push-not yet. I saw the walls she’d built around herself, the silent fortress she was trying to keep up for me.

The next day, I came home early again. This time, I wasn’t missing a goddamn thing.

I parked my car and rounded the corner, there I saw them-my sister and a few others who claim to be my family circling Elena like vultures. Their words were daggers, their eyes full of contempt.

“Enough,” I snapped, stepping forward, voice slicing through the venom like a blade.

They turned, surprise flashing in their eyes.

“Damien you're home!” my sister sneered, voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Elena’s the one  stirring shit,.. she keeps rubbing it in our faces that.... She tried playing the victim 

I stared her down, cold fury rising like a storm inside me.

“Shut the fuck up! I lost my memory, not my goddamn brain,” I said, voice low and deadly. “And I’m not a fucking fool.”

She laughed, bitter and hollow. “You’ve shown your true colors, Damien. Taking her side over your own family? That demon's tearing us apart don't you see" she screamed shedding fake tears.

"Family?!?" Don't fucking kid me 

I stepped forward, eyes blazing.

“And demon?” I spat. “You’re the demon here. The one who hurts my wife, poisons this house with your hate.”

The room went dead silent. The weight of my words hung heavy.

Then something inside me snapped.

I grabbed the nearest goddamn lamp and hurled it against the wall. Glass exploded everywhere, shards glittering like broken promises, I've never been this angry since I woke up, felt old self coming back.

Elena gasped, but I didn’t stop.

“This ends now,” I growled, voice raw with rage and pain. “I’m done with your lies, your poison, your fucking games.”

I took Elena’s hand, my grip fierce and protective.

“My wife can't stay with devils like you any longer ”

They all tried coming after me but I couldn't hear a thing.

The house felt like a cage as we stormed out, suffocating walls closing behind us.

I slammed the door, started the engine, and drove out of the godforsaken compound heading towards one of my mansions.

The night blurred past the windows, the roar of the engine matching the fire burning inside me.

We both didn't say a word

I didn’t know what awaited us at the mansion, but I knew one thing:

We were done being prisoners here..

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