Vivian’s mask of innocence fractured for a fraction of a second, but she quickly caught herself. She knew better than to risk the friendship bond she had meticulously built with Damian all these years. If she fought him now, she would lose her access to him.
Instantly, her sweet, harmless smile returned.
"Oh, Damian, don’t be so grumpy," Vivian said softly, her voice practically dripping with gentle warmth. She looked at him with wide, adoring eyes. "I’m just... honestly so happy for you. If she makes you happy, that’s all that matters. I’m eagerly waiting for the two of you to make things official again."
Before Ana could even process the sudden shift, Vivian stepped forward.
With a bright, fake smile, Vivian wrapped her arms around Ana, pulling her into a tight, suffocating hug. Damian couldn’t see Vivian’s face, but Ana felt the ice-cold stiffness of the woman’s body.
"I am so happy for you, Anastasia," Vivian whispered directly into Ana’s ear. The words were sweet, but her tone was a venomous promise of war.
Vivian pulled away smoothly, beaming at them both as if she hadn’t just been humiliated. "I’ll let the board know you’re back safely, Damian. Bye!"
With a graceful wave, she turned on her designer heels and confidently strode out of the grand foyer, the heavy double doors shutting quietly behind her.
Vivian was gone.
The second the door clicked, Ana gathered every remaining shred of her strength. She wrenched her waist out of Damian’s possessive grip and stumbled a step back, her chest heaving as she glared at him.
"What the hell was that, Damian?!" Ana snapped, her voice trembling but laced with fierce defiance. "You told me I am your slave now. I signed that contract. But I refuse to be acknowledged as your wife or your fiancée to the world! I won’t play this disgusting charade for your high-society friends!"
Damian didn’t flinch.
Slowly, he turned his head to face her, his eyes darkening. A dangerous, cold fury rolled off his massive frame, making the air in the foyer instantly turn cold.
He took a slow, calm step toward her. Ana instinctively backed up until her spine hit the hard marble pillar near the stairs. She was completely cornered.
Damian leaned in, pinning her against the stone with his overwhelming shadow. His face was inches from hers, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscle ticked.
"You think you have a choice, Anastasia?" He whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl that vibrated right through her bones. "Let me remind you of reality. You signed the contract. You belong to me now, body and soul."
He reached out, his long fingers wrapping firmly around her jaw, forcing her chin up so she had no choice but to look into his lethal gaze.
"Outside these doors, you will play the perfect, adoring woman. You will smile when I tell you to smile, and you will stand by my side. If you dare to disobey me, if you try to push back even a fraction... I will make your life a living hell. The punishments will get far more difficult than anything your fragile body can handle. Do you understand me?"
Ana’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her hand stung from the memory of the slap in his study yesterday, and her lower stomach still throbbed with that restless, unfulfilled ache from the night.
As she stared into his ruthless eyes, a wave of bitter defeat washed over her.
She hated him. She hated her own weakness.
But her body was completely betraying her, aching for his touch even while her mind screamed in protest. She was utterly powerless against the Devil.
"I... I understand," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper.
Satisfied with her submission, Damian released her jaw. He didn’t give her a moment to breathe.
He grabbed her wrist in an iron grip and aggressively pulled her further inside the house, dragging her up the grand glass staircase straight toward his private quarters.
Ana didn’t fight him physically anymore. She walked behind him like a beautiful ghost, silently fighting a brutal inner battle, knowing she had just walked right into the deepest part of his cage.
The massive double doors of the master suite clicked shut, locking them away from the rest of the world.
Ana looked around the space, her chest tightening. The room was grand, decorated in dark, masculine tones of charcoal and black marble. In the center sat an expansive king-sized bed.
"Are we... sharing the same room?" Ana asked, her voice faltering as she looked from the bed back to him. During their entire marriage, they had never shared a bedroom. He had always kept her at a distance.
Damian stopped unbuttoning his cuffs, his dark gaze sliding over to her. A slow, mocking glint entered his eyes. "Why? Are you feeling shy, Anastasia? Or is it that you want to share my bed?"
"No," Ana said instantly, her jaw tightening. "I don’t want to."
In a split second, Damian’s teasing demeanor vanished. The temperature in the room plummeted as his expression turned cold and dominant. He stepped closer, towering over her.
"Then remember your place," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous purr. "You are a slave here. And a slave only sleeps in the master’s bed when she is explicitly allowed to. For now, you will sleep on the couch."
Ana frowned, a surge of pure irritation rising through her exhaustion. She was sick of his mind games. Forcing a tight, completely fake smile onto her face, she looked him dead in the eye.
"Understood, master," she spat out, dripping the title in pure sarcasm.
Damian’s eyes narrowed at her tone, but he didn’t snap. Instead, he jerked his chin toward a set of heavy frosted-glass doors. "Get freshened up before dinner. The bathroom is through there."
Ana didn’t need to be told twice. Desperate to escape his suffocating presence, she turned on her heel and hurried inside, shutting the door firmly behind her. All she wanted was a few moments of absolute peace.
Stepping into the lavish, marble bathroom, she quickly peeled off her damp, wrinkled clothes. Her body was still aching, a lingering punishment from the tension he had left her with the night before, but she tried to push it out of her mind.
She turned on the water and stepped into the large shower.
As the streams of warm water cascaded over her skin, Ana closed her eyes. She let out a long, heavy sigh, leaning her head against the cool marble tile. She felt the knots in her shoulders begin to loosen as the water washed away her immediate worries.
Suddenly, the glass door slid open.
Before she could even turn her head, Ana gasped out loud. A pair of large, fiercely strong palms clamped tightly around her wet waist from behind.
She was violently yanked backward, her bare back slamming flush against a broad, hard chest. The heat radiating off his body was scorching, cutting right through the warm spray of the shower.
"Damian...!" She choked out, her heart leaping into her throat.
His grip tightened, anchoring her lower body completely against his. He leaned down, his lips brushing the wet skin of her shoulder as his hot breath fanned over her neck.
"Let’s get you cleaned up, Anastasia," Damian murmured darkly into her ear.
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