The Real Marriage

Chapter Twenty-Two

I stared at the photograph.

For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.

My mother.

Adrian.

My father.

Together.

Alive.

Standing beneath the same gray sky as though the last nineteen years had never happened.

Then I looked at the message again.

Congratulations on your wedding.

A second message appeared.

Now the real marriage begins.

My fingers went cold.

"Damien..."

"I know."

He took the phone from my hand.

His expression had changed completely.

The softness from moments ago was gone.

The man standing beside me now was the man everyone feared.

Cold.

Focused.

Dangerous.

He immediately made a call.

"Victor."

A pause.

"I want every camera around the estate checked. Nobody comes in or out without being identified."

Another pause.

"No. Don't send anyone after them yet."

I looked at him.

He ended the call.

"Why not?"

"Because this is exactly what they want."

"They have my parents."

"And they're using them to control us."

I shook my head.

"My father was sick. He was kidnapped from a hospital. My mother has been hiding for nineteen years. And now they're together."

"I know."

"We have to find them."

"We will."

"Then why aren't we going?"

"Because if we rush in, we walk directly into whatever trap they've prepared."

I folded my arms.

"You're asking me to sit here?"

"For tonight."

I stared at him.

"After everything?"

"Especially after everything."

He stepped closer.

"Lena, I know you want answers. I do too. But whoever sent that photograph wants us angry."

"They succeeded."

"I know."

He touched my cheek.

"But anger is exactly what they need from us."

I looked into his eyes.

"You're scared."

His jaw tightened.

"Yes."

The answer surprised me.

"Of them?"

"Of losing you."

My heart skipped.

He lowered his hand.

"I'm not going to let them use you."

"They already are."

"No."

He shook his head.

"Not anymore."

I looked toward the dark garden.

"What did they mean by 'the real marriage begins'?"

Damien's expression hardened.

"I don't know."

"Do you think this marriage was planned?"

"Yes."

"Before we met?"

"Possibly."

I swallowed.

"Then maybe everything that happened was planned."

He didn't answer.

That frightened me more than anything.

"The club?"

"Maybe."

"The murder?"

"Maybe."

"The people following me?"

"Likely."

"The hospital?"

"Possibly."

I stared at him.

"What about you?"

He looked at me.

"What about me?"

"Was meeting you planned?"

Silence.

My stomach twisted.

"Damien."

He looked away.

"I don't know."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the truth."

I stepped back.

"Did you know who I was before that night?"

He hesitated.

That was enough.

"You did."

"Lena—"

"You knew."

"I knew your name."

"Why?"

"Because your father was on a list."

"What list?"

"A list of people connected to the Black Circle."

"And me?"

"You were mentioned."

My heart sank.

"What did it say?"

"That you were his daughter."

"That's all?"

He didn't answer.

"Damien."

His eyes met mine.

"It said you were important."

I laughed bitterly.

"Important."

"Yes."

"To whom?"

"That's what I was trying to discover."

"And then I saw you kill that man."

He nodded.

"And suddenly you needed to marry me."

"Yes."

"Because I was a witness."

"Yes."

I looked down at my wedding ring.

"Was that the only reason?"

He stepped closer.

"At first."

My eyes lifted.

"And now?"

His voice softened.

"Now you're my wife."

I didn't know why those words affected me so much.

Maybe because they didn't sound like an obligation anymore.

They sounded like a choice.

We didn't sleep.

Neither of us wanted to.

Damien had guards positioned throughout the house.

Every door was locked.

Every window checked.

And the ledger was moved to a hidden safe beneath the floor of his office.

At three in the morning, I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed.

Damien stood by the window, staring outside.

"You should sleep."

"So should you."

"I'll sleep later."

"You always say that."

He turned.

"You've been paying attention."

"I live with you."

A small smile appeared.

"Technically, you're living with me now."

I looked at the ring.

"Technically, I'm married to you."

"Yes."

"Still strange."

"To me too."

I smiled.

Then the smile faded.

"Damien?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Why did you kiss me?"

His expression changed.

I immediately regretted asking.

"You don't have to answer."

"I want to."

He walked toward me.

"I don't know exactly."

"That's not very romantic."

He smiled.

"I've never claimed to be romantic."

"No."

He stopped in front of me.

"I was scared."

"Of what?"

"That I was going to lose you."

I stared at him.

"And kissing me helped?"

"No."

He gave a quiet laugh.

"It made everything worse."

"How?"

"Because once I did it, I realized how badly I'd wanted to."

My cheeks heated.

He noticed.

"You blush every time I mention it."

"I can't help it."

"I know."

He sat beside me.

For a moment, our shoulders touched.

"I've been thinking about it too," I admitted.

His gaze shifted toward me.

"The kiss?"

I nodded.

"Sometimes."

"What do you think about?"

I hesitated.

"The fact that it was my first."

He smiled faintly.

"Mine wasn't."

"I figured."

"But it was the first one that made me wish I'd taken my time."

My heart beat faster.

I looked at him.

"Why?"

"Because you were nervous."

"I was terrified."

"I know."

"And you stopped."

"I didn't want to scare you."

I looked down.

"You didn't."

His fingers brushed mine.

"Good."

Our hands slowly intertwined.

I could feel the warmth spreading through me.

For a few seconds, everything felt normal.

No secrets.

No mafia.

No missing parents.

Just two people sitting together on their wedding night.

Then Damien's phone vibrated.

He looked at the screen.

His expression immediately changed.

"What?"

He answered.

"Speak."

A pause.

Then:

"You're certain?"

Another pause.

"Send it."

He hung up.

I knew from his expression that something was wrong.

"What happened?"

He showed me the message.

A location.

And beneath it:

Come alone.

I stared.

"Who sent it?"

Damien shook his head.

"No name."

Then another message arrived.

Or we send you her body.

My blood ran cold.

"No."

Damien stood immediately.

"We're going."

I followed.

"You said we weren't going to rush."

"I know."

"You just told me—"

"This changed things."

"Because of my mother."

"Yes."

He reached for his gun.

I grabbed his arm.

"I'm coming."

"No."

"Damien."

"I'm going alone."

"No."

He looked at me.

"I said no."

"And I'm saying no."

His expression hardened.

"Lena."

"They specifically said come alone."

"Exactly."

"They expect you."

"They expect us to follow instructions."

I shook my head.

"Then don't."

He stared at me.

"What are you suggesting?"

I smiled faintly.

"We don't play their game."

Twenty minutes later, we left the mansion.

Not through the front gate.

Through an underground tunnel I'd never known existed.

Damien held my hand as we walked through the dark passage.

"Where does this go?"

"Three blocks from the estate."

"How many tunnels are there?"

"Four."

I looked at him.

"How many secrets does your family have?"

He smiled.

"Enough to keep us busy."

"That's not funny."

"I know."

We reached an abandoned warehouse.

Victor and two men were already waiting.

Damien looked at me.

"You stay in the car."

I glared.

"Don't even start."

His lips twitched.

"Fine."

He handed me a small communication device.

"If anything happens, press this."

"What's it do?"

"Every man I have comes running."

I looked at him.

"Even you?"

He smiled.

"Especially me."

Then he walked toward the warehouse.

I watched him disappear inside.

Seconds passed.

Nothing.

Then—

A gunshot.

I jumped.

"Damien!"

I ran out of the car.

Victor caught me.

"Stay back!"

Another shot.

Then silence.

"Where is he?"

Victor looked toward the warehouse.

"I'm going in."

He pulled his weapon.

I grabbed his arm.

"Wait."

A sound came from behind us.

A car door closing.

I turned.

A woman stood beneath the streetlight.

Dark hair.

Pale face.

My mother.

Alive.

My breath caught.

"Mom?"

She looked at me.

"Don't come closer."

I froze.

"Why?"

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Because I need you to listen."

"Where's Dad?"

"Safe."

"Where's Damien?"

She looked toward the warehouse.

"That's why I'm here."

My stomach tightened.

"What happened?"

She took a shaky breath.

"Your husband is in more danger than you understand."

"What do you mean?"

She looked at my wedding ring.

Then at me.

"Your marriage wasn't arranged to protect you."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Then why?"

My mother's eyes filled with tears.

"Because your grandfather believed that if you married Damien..."

She swallowed.

"...you would eventually give birth to the next heir of the Black Circle."

The world seemed to stop.

I couldn't breathe.

"No."

My mother shook her head.

"I tried to stop it."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Then why did you let me marry him?"

"I didn't."

She looked toward the warehouse.

"Someone else arranged the wedding."

My heart pounded.

"Who?"

Before she could answer, the warehouse lights went out.

Then Damien's voice came through the communication device.

"Lena."

His voice was strained.

"Get away from your mother."

I stared at the device.

"Damien?"

"Now."

My mother suddenly grabbed my wrist.

"Lena, run."

I looked between them.

Then I heard another voice through the device.

A man's laughter.

My grandfather.

"Too late."

The warehouse doors opened.

Damien stumbled outside.

His hands were bound.

A gun was pressed against his head.

And behind him stood Adrian.

He smiled at me.

"Congratulations, Mrs. De Luca."

His gaze dropped to my ring.

"Now let's see what kind of wife you really are."