Inside the quiet, leather-scented interior of the car, the city lights blurred past the tinted windows.
Ana lay curled on the backseat beside Damian, half-drunk and half-asleep. The rush of cold air from the AC made her shiver slightly.
"Cold..." she muttered softly, her voice barely a breath as she shifted restlessly.
Damian looked down at her. Without a word, he reached over, effortlessly scooping her trembling frame closer to his side and wrapping a long, heavy arm around her shoulders. Instinctively seeking heat, Ana snuggled deep into his broad chest, her head resting over his heart as her breathing evened out into a deep, sound sleep.
Damian’s large hand rested over her hip, his dark eyes staring out the window into the night.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out with his free hand, glancing at the caller ID before sliding the screen open.
Victoria Sterling.
"Mother," Damian answered softly, keeping his baritone low so as not to disturb the sleeping girl in his arms.
"Damian," Victoria’s sharp, authoritative voice filtered through the speaker. "I am calling to remind you about the weekend. The day after tomorrow is your father’s death anniversary. I expect you and Anastasia to be at the main estate for the memorial dinner."
Damian’s gaze dropped to Ana, watching her soft lashes rest against her cheek as she let out a quiet, contented sigh against his chest.
"I’ll be there," Damian said quietly into the phone. "It’s not necessary to bring Anastasia, though. She has a heavy workload at the firm."
"Don’t speak for her, Damian," Victoria instructed smoothly, her voice calm and absolute, devoid of any cruelty. "In the past, I cornered her by ignoring her and keeping my distance. I won’t repeat it again. She is your Ex wife, and she belongs at our family table. Bring her home for the memorial, Damian. It’s time I finally get to know the woman my son married."
_________________________
When Ana’s eyes slowly fluttered open, the harsh morning light was pouring through the windows of Damian’s master suite. A deep, heavy warmth enveloped her entire body, and her limbs felt completely relaxed... far too relaxed.
She blinked through her groggy fog, only to realize her head was resting squarely on a wall of solid, bare muscle.
Her breath caught in her throat. She was clinging to Damian like a blanket. He was stripped down to just his boxers, his broad, golden chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern beneath her cheek.
Then, she felt it. A small, damp patch right above his left nipple.
Ana’s eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated horror. She drooled on him.
Panicking silently, she raised her head, screaming internally as she caught a faint glint of moisture on his skin.
Desperate to erase the evidence before the beast woke up, she used the oversized sleeve of the shirt she had ended up in... a shirt that smelled intensely like his dark woodsy cologne... and gently, frantically wiped it away.
What even happened last night? She shrieked in her mind, her cheeks burning as hazy, humiliating fragments of the VIP lavatory, the marble vanity, and a bridal carry through the lounge flashed through her memory.
Deciding that flight was her only option, Ana carefully tried to lift his heavy arm off her waist and untangle her legs from his. She slid toward the edge of the mattress inch by agonizing inch...
Until her ankle caught against his calf.
The subtle shift in weight was all it took. Damian’s dark eyes opened instantly, sharp and fully alert, showing zero trace of sleepiness.
"What are you doing?" his deep morning baritone rumbled, low and dangerous.
Ana froze, her heart leaping straight into her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to look as innocent as humanly possible. "I... I was just going to the bathroom."
Damian didn’t answer immediately. He slowly shifted onto his back, his sharp gaze drifting down to his own broad chest. His brow furrowed slightly as he felt the slight stickiness on his skin, then looked straight at the sleeve of the shirt she was wearing.
His dark eyes narrowed. "Is that what I think it is, Anastasia?"
"I have no idea what you’re talking about!" Ana blurted out instantly, her face flushing crimson.
"Don’t try to outsmart me, doll," Damian murmured smoothly, a wicked, predatory glint igniting in his eyes as he began to sit up, his muscular back flexing. "You’re going to pay for this..."
Before he could reach out and catch her by the waist, Ana’s survival instincts took over. She scrambled off the edge of the high bed, hit the floor running, and bolted across the plush carpet as fast as her sore legs could carry her.
She threw herself into the grand master bathroom, slammed the heavy door, and twisted the lock just as Damian’s heavy footstep reached the other side.
CLICK.
Ana leaned her back against the cool wooden door, her chest heaving as she let out a breathless, desperate laugh.
Ana emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, fully dressed and armed with as much dignity as she could muster. Damian was already changed into a tailored navy suit, leaning casually against his vanity with a fresh cup of espresso.
He didn’t bring up the drool. Instead, he took a slow sip of his coffee, his dark gaze locking onto her reflection in the mirror.
"Pack a bag for the weekend, Anastasia," Damian instructed smoothly, his tone leaving zero room for debate. "My mother called last night. Tomorrow is my father’s death anniversary, and we’re staying at the Sterling Main Estate for the memorial."
Ana froze, her hand hovering over her purse. Victoria Sterling was a name that used to strike a quiet, suffocating fear in her chest. During their two-year marriage, Victoria had been an icy, distant figure who completely ignored Ana’s existence at high-society galas.
All these times she ignored my presence, Ana thought, her brow furrowing in genuine suspicion. Why now? Why does she suddenly want to see me?
"Is this another trap?" Ana asked aloud, looking at him carefully. "We’re divorced."
"My mother explicitly asked for you," Damian replied flatly, setting his espresso down and striding toward her. He reached out, his long fingers casually fixing the lapel of her blazer. "Divorced or not, you’re back in my life, doll. My mother doesn’t ignore what’s right under her roof."
________________________
By Friday evening, the relentless workload had kept Ana’s mind occupied... until the sleek Maybach entered the grand iron gates of the Sterling Main Estate.
The ride had been dead silent until Damian broke it, leaning across the leather seat with a quiet, menacing authority.
"Listen to me carefully, Anastasia," Damian commanded, his voice dropping into an icy register. "When we enter those doors, my mother knows nothing about our current arrangement. As far as she is concerned, you are back in my life by choice."
Ana looked at him, her heart thumping against her ribs. "And our past?"
"She knows we married out of love," Damian said coldly, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an unyielding grip. "She does not know that I bought you from your father for one hundred million dollars. You will not mention a single word of it. Am I clear?"
Ana swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "Clear."
The car pulled up to the breathtaking European-style manor, surrounded by acres of gardens and heavy stone pillars radiating wealth.
As Damian stepped out and held the door for Ana, the heavy oak doors opened. Standing at the top of the grand staircase was Victoria Sterling, dressed in an elegant, black silk gown.
Instead of waiting at the top, Victoria descended the steps with slow, regal grace. Her sharp, intelligent eyes swept over Ana... taking in her posture, her dress, and the unspoken tension radiating between her and Damian.
Victoria stopped right in front of them.
"Anastasia," Victoria addressed her smoothly, her voice rich and calm, completely devoid of the cruel malice she expected.
"Mrs. Sterling," Ana replied politely, bowing her head slightly.
"Damian, the estate attorneys are waiting in the study regarding your father’s trust allocations. Go handle them," Victoria instructed, her tone firm.
Damian glanced down at Ana, a subtle shadow of hesitation crossing his dark eyes before he inclined his head. "Don’t wander off, Anastasia," he warned softly before heading inside.
Once Damian was out of earshot, Victoria turned her calm, unreadable gaze back to Ana. A faint, elegant smile touched her lips as her eyes drifted over the grand estate grounds.
"This must be your first time seeing the estate properly, Anastasia," Victoria said softly, gesturing toward the sweeping arched marble corridors leading into the private gardens. "Walk with me. I’ll show you around."
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