All Chapters of The Auctioned Bride: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

Althea’s povThe drive was quiet at first. Not awkward…careful.He kept glancing at me, hands tight on the steering wheel, like he didn’t trust himself not to reach for me. When we finally stopped, I understood why.A park.Wide. Open. Green. Families scattered around. Children running. Couples walking dogs. Safe.Public.Smart choice, Damien.“You didn’t want somewhere crowded,” he said, reading my silence. “I figured… you might want air. Space.”“I do,” I said. “This is nice.”We walked slowly along the path. He kept just close enough that our arms brushed occasionally. Every time it happened, his fingers twitched, like he was asking permission without words.“Do you remember,” he said quietly, “how we used to come here? Before everything went wrong?”“I remember,” I said. And I did.But memory didn’t mean mercy.“I think about you every day,” he confessed. “About what I should’ve done differently. About how badly I failed you.”I stopped walking.He stopped too, instantly turning t

Althea’s PovI noticed him before he noticed me.The air changed.That was the only way I could describe it…like the warmth of the afternoon thinned, like the laughter around us dulled into background noise. My skin prickled, instinct screaming before my mind caught up.I turned.Valerio stood a few steps away from the ride’s exit gate.For a second, the world tilted.What was he doing here?How did he find me?His eyes swept over me first, not in the possessive way he used to, but sharp,desperate. Like he was counting my limbs. Making sure I was whole. Alive. Safe. Then his gaze dropped.To my hand.Intertwined with Damien’s.If rage had a sound, I swear I heard it then…a low, animal thing buried deep in his chest. His jaw tightened, nostrils flaring, the carefully controlled man I knew cracking straight down the middle.He looked… ruined.Untrimmed beard. Dark circles bruising his eyes. His hair longer, uneven, like he kept dragging his hands through it without realizing. The immacu

Althea’s PovNo one said a word on the drive back.The silence pressed against my ears, thick and heavy, the kind that made your thoughts louder than they should be. Damien kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles pale around the steering wheel. I stared out the window, replaying Valerio’s face over and over again…those eyes, the hurt he hadn’t even tried to hide.I hated that it still affected me.When we finally pulled into the driveway, night had already settled over the house. Damien parked, cut the engine, and turned to me like he wanted to say something…anything but thought better of it.Inside, the house felt too quiet. Too empty.“Is there alcohol?” I asked suddenly, my voice sharper than I intended. “What’s the end of a date without good wine?”He blinked, surprised, then smiled faintly. “Yeah. There is.” He gestured toward the dining area. “Sit. I’ll rinse the glasses.”I didn’t wait.I headed straight for the wine room, my heels clicking against the floor like a countdown. M

Althea’s PovMorning light slipped through the curtains warming the edge of the bed where I sat. The house was quiet but for once, it didn’t feel oppressive. It felt… gentle. Like a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding had finally been released.I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, not because I was cold, but because everything felt raw. Exposed. Not in a frightening way. In a way that made my chest ache softly.Damien returned a few minutes later with a mug in his hand.“Careful,” he said gently. “It’s strong.”“Thank you,” I replied, accepting it. Our fingers brushed briefly. Just a touch. Nothing more.But he felt it too.He sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. That alone did something to me. The old Damien would’ve filled the silence with apologies, excuses, or desperate affection. This one just… stayed. Present. Calm.“How’s your head?” he asked.“Better,” I said honestly, taking a small sip. The warmth traveled down my throat, grounding me. “I’m

Damien’s povShe was warming up to me.Not in the fragile, broken way she had when she first arrived…guarded, sharp, calculating but in something softer. Something terrifyingly hopeful.Althea laughed more now. Small laughs. Quiet ones. The kind that slipped out when she forgot to hold herself together. She stayed close without flinching. She touched my arm when she spoke. She let her head rest briefly against my shoulder when we sat together in silence.Every one of those moments felt like oxygen.I had wanted this…her…for so long that it almost felt unreal. Like if I breathed too loudly, she would vanish again.“She’s trying,” I told myself.“She’s choosing you.”And God, I wanted to be worthy of that choice.That morning, I watched her from the kitchen doorway as she stood by the window, sunlight working in through her hair. She looked peaceful. For the first time since she’d come back, she looked like she was considering staying.“Althea,” I said softly.She turned. Smiled. “Yes?”