Semua Bab Forced To Marry: Claimed By The Obsessed Billionaire: Bab 21 - Bab 30

 (Helen’s POV) The silence of the penthouse during the first forty-eight hours after Damian’s departure was the most confusing thing I had ever experienced. Without his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway and without the suffocating pressure of my father looming over me, the dark marble triplex felt like a floating desert high above Chicago. On the first day, after his car vanished from the garage, I took a long bath in the marble tub, letting the hot water melt the stiffness from my muscles. Afterward, I walked barefoot through the thick carpet of the library, turned on the integrated wall speakers to play some calm music, and indulged in eating chocolate ice cream straight from the carton while reading a literature book. I danced alone in the living room, moving in my baggy gray sweatshirt, feeling a tiny sliver of freedom I hadn't possessed in years.

 Damian’s POV I spent the last few hours at a private medical clinic near downtown Chicago, sitting on an iron gurney under the cold, white ceiling light. I watched the surgeon tie square knots with black nylon thread into the torn flesh of my left arm. I refused local anesthesia. The burn of the needle piercing my skin repeatedly and the tug of the nylon thread were a necessary physical reminder of the mistake I had made at the port. The supervisor of the Rossi operation had slipped away because of my slowness on the dock, and the pain in the muscle served to keep my focus locked. As soon as the gauze dressing was secured with medical tape, I pulled on a clean black dress shirt my men had brought from the van, adjusted the collar, and ordered the driver to head straight to the penthouse. I needed to clear my mind and recalculate the next steps of the investigation. 

Damian’s POVA knock on the door interrupted the reply. Judite entered the room carrying a small tray with the painkiller capsules and a glass of water. She glanced briefly at my newly stitched shoulder but did not say a word. She placed the tray on the nightstand and retreated in silence, locking the magnetic latch behind her. I picked up the glass and the two black capsules. I approached Helen, slipped my right hand behind the nape of her neck, lifting her head firmly from the pillows, and pressed the medication against her lips."Take this. Now," I ordered.She swallowed the pills at once, drinking the water immediately after. The liquid cleared the taste of champagne from her mouth. I placed the empty glass back on the tray. I tried to make her eat some of the soup Judite had left warm in the kitchen, but Helen turned her face to the opposite side,

(Damian’s POV)"It's not that. I want to go. It's a very important day, it's my sister's birthday," she replied, trying to steady her voice.I opened the car door and stepped out, pulling her with me into the gélid city air. My security detail positioned themselves across the front lawn. I grabbed a black leather bag, heavy and discreet, which Charles had handed me before we left the penthouse. I turned to Helen and extended the object toward her."Carry this bag inside for me," I ordered.Helen furrowed her brow, staring at the black leather. "Wow, why do I have to carry this? Wh

(Damian’s POV)The main hall of the Rossi estate was packed with guests from Chicago's high society, but my attention remained split between the dull ache of my stitched shoulder and Helen’s suffocating presence beside me.We sat at the head dining table for the festive lunch. I was positioned right to her left, observing the way the satin of the light pink dress draped over her full curves. The waiter served the porcelain plates, and Helen picked up her silver cutlery, starting to eat slowly, clearly uncomfortable with the gazes around us. That was when Vittorio Rossi, sitting at the end of the table, stopped his fork in midair and stared at his own daughter with a furrowed brow, projecting his voice loud enough for the businessmen and their wives to hear."You need to watch that mouth and eat less, Helen," Vittorio shot out, his tone dripping with a revolting disdain. "If you keep going like this, you'll gain even more weight and end up shapeless. You're not even pregnant yet and you