Stripping For My Devil Ex Husband

The low, rumbling sound of Damian’s tone was the first thing to wake Ana from her heavy sleep.

​She opened her eyes groggily. Damian was standing near the foot of the bed, a phone pressed to his ear as he gave sharp, concise orders to his legal team.

He was already half-dressed, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, rolling up his sleeves with casual elegance.

​Ana shifted, sitting up slowly as the soreness in her body reminded her of the chaotic night on the balcony. She quickly pulled the heavy silk duvet tight against her chest, clutching it close.

​The rustle of the sheets caught Damian’s attention. His gaze snapped to her.

​Whatever sharp corporate command he was giving over the phone instantly died on his tongue. Something dark, hot, and possessively hungry flashed in his obsidian eyes.

His focus was no longer on his call. Without taking his eyes off her exposed shoulders, he murmured a cold "We’ll finish this at the office," and hung up, tossing the phone onto the nightstand.

​Ana felt her pulse quicken as he slowly walked around the edge of the bed toward her, like a predator stalking familiar prey.

​She clutched the sheets even tighter against herself, backing up an inch. "What happened?" She asked nervously, her voice raspy from sleep. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

​Damian didn’t answer right away. He sank onto the edge of the mattress, his broad frame casting a heavy shadow over her.

​His large hand reached out, his fingers firmly cupping her chin to tilt her face up. Before she could ask another question, he leaned down and pressed a surprisingly soft, lingering kiss against her lips.

​Ana blinked, her curious eyes meeting his intense gaze. But before she could make sense of his sudden tenderness, Damian leaned back in, capturing her mouth in a deep, ravenous kiss.

His tongue brushed her lower lip, hungrily demanding entry, sucking on her lips with a possessive intensity that made her chest heave.

​Melted by the sudden sensation, Ana’s hands instinctively moved up, her palms cupping the sharp line of his jaw before sliding up into his thick dark hair. She pulled him closer, leaning into his heat in a haze of sudden, dizzying pleasure.

​As her hand swept through his hair, something caught the morning light.

​A sharp, brilliant sparkle caught her pleasured vision.

​Ana pulled back abruptly, her breath hitching. She brought her left hand into view, her eyes widening in sheer horror.

​Riding on her ring finger was a breathtaking, incredibly rare bright diamond ring... an flawless, custom-cut stone that practically screamed absolute wealth and ownership.

​Her blood ran ice-cold. Her heart hammered against her ribs in pure panic.

​Ana scooted away from him violently, pulling the sheet with her as she stared at her finger again and again in utter disbelief. The shock tore through her pleasured haze, leaving behind a burning wave of terror.

​She glared up at Damian, her chest heaving. "What the hell are you thinking?!"

​Panicked, she grabbed the silver band with her right hand, aggressively trying to yank the ring off her finger. "I am not wearing this!"

​Before she could pull it past her knuckle, Damian’s heavy hand shot out, clamping around her wrist with an iron grip. His eyes narrowed into a lethal, unyielding glare.

​"If you want Marcus to keep his job and his career," Damian warned, his voice dropping into a smooth, razor-sharp register, "this leash stays on you. My slave needs to be recognized for who she belongs to."

​Ana’s voice cracked as sheer desperation took over. "Damian, please... anything but this," she begged, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Don’t force this on me. Ask for anything else!"

​Damian didn’t flinch. He released her wrist, standing up to his full height as he smoothed down the front of his shirt.

​"If not this," Damian said coldly, looking down at her frantic, tear-stained face, "then your little mercy costs someone their entire career. The choice is yours, Anastasia."

​Without waiting for another word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the master suite, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

​Ana collapsed back onto the plush mattress, burying her face in her hands as silent tears slipped past her fingers. The cold diamond on her left hand pressed hard against her forehead, a constant, heavy reminder of the inescapable web she was trapped in.

​What kind of grave had she just dug for herself?

_________________________

​Downstairs at the breakfast table, Ana made sure her fury was loud and clear.

​She deliberately dragged her chair against the marble floor with a sharp, grating scrape. When the maid offered her coffee, Ana set the cup down hard enough to rattle the saucer, keeping her left hand conspicuously out of sight beneath the table.

She aggressively pushed her plate of poached eggs away, crossing her arms and glaring fixedly out the windows, ignoring every bit of food placed in front of her.

​Damian sat across from her, casually cutting into his steak, completely unfazed. He didn’t offer a single word of comfort, nor did he scold her childish rebellion. He simply took a sip of his black coffee, his obsidian eyes tracking her tense, rigid frame with dark, amused detachment.

​The silence carried over into the back of the Maybach.

​Ana sat as far away from him as humanly possible, her back pressed against the passenger door, staring out at the rain-slicked city streets. Every time he shifted, she visibly stiffened. Every time he spoke to his driver, she turned her head away with an audible, sharp exhaling of breath.

​Damian finally lowered his tablet, his broad frame turning slightly toward her.

​"You’re wasting your energy, Anastasia," Damian said smoothly, his tone cool and unbothered by her silent protest. "Your little tantrum changes nothing. When we step out of this car, you will wear that ring, and you will tell anyone who asks that I proposed... and that we are getting married soon."

​Ana snapped her head around, her dark eyes flashing with pure venom. "You can force this metal onto my hand, Damian, but you can’t force me to lie for you with a smile!"

​"I don’t need your smile," Damian purred dangerously, leaning across the leather seat until his face was inches from hers, trapping her against the door. "I just need your obedience. You play the blushing, eager bride-to-be, or Marcus’s termination papers are signed before noon. Am I clear?"

​Ana’s chest heaved, her jaw tightening so hard it ached. She swallowed the suffocating lump in her throat and looked away, unable to answer.

​Damian’s dark lips curved into a cold, victorious smirk as the car pulled up to the glass entrance of Sterling Global.

________________________

​The glass doors of the marketing department swung open, and the atmosphere inside instantly shifted.

​The moment Ana walked in, her left hand awkwardly clutching her tablet to her chest, a loud cheer erupted from the bullpen.

​

​At the head of the main cluster of desks stood Marcus. He was back in his sharp suit, his badge hanging around his neck, actively organizing campaign files. But as his eyes met Ana’s, there was no warm smile or grand wave of gratitude. He simply offered a stiff, polite nod.

​The coldness in his demeanor stung, but before Ana could process it, three of her closest junior interns swarmed around her desk, squealing in delight.

​

​"Wait..." an intern, Mia, narrowed her eyes, her gaze dropping to Ana’s left hand holding the tablet. Her jaw practically hit the floor. "Wait, wait, wait... WHAT IS THAT?!"

​Before Ana could pull her hand back, Mia snatched her wrist, lifting Ana’s left hand into the bright fluorescent lights of the office.

​The entire marketing floor went dead silent for two full seconds before erupting into chaotic, high-pitched shrieks.

​"IS THAT A DIAMOND?!"

​"HOLY SHIT, ANA!"

​"Is Mr. Sterling... did he..."

​"Are you guys getting remarried?!" Chloe squealed, clutching her cheeks. "Oh my god, he put a rock on you! You have to tell us everything! How did he ask?!"

​Ana felt the blood drain from her face. Her throat felt bone-dry, Damian’s cold threat echoing in her mind.

​"It... it was private," Ana managed to choke out, her voice straining under the weight of the lie. "He proposed... and yes, we’re getting married soon again."

​"I knew it! The way he looks at you in board meetings, I literally knew it!" The interns giggled, teasing her relentlessly, bombarding her with endless questions.

​Ana could only stand there like a wooden puppet, offering weak nods and forced chuckles while her stomach churned in absolute disgust.

​"Alright, alright, break it up! Back to your stations, we have a campaign launch in four days!"

​Clara’s sharp, commanding voice cut through the noise. The interns quickly dispersed, giggling and whispering among themselves as they headed back to their cubicles.

​Clara walked over to Ana’s desk, her sharp eyes dropping straight to the blinding diamond resting on Ana’s trembling finger.

​The excitement that filled the rest of the room was completely absent from Clara’s face. Instead, her expression shifted into a deeply conflicted, troubled frown. She looked up from the ring and searched Ana’s pale, exhausted face, taking in the dead look in her eyes behind her forced smile.

​Clara stepped closer, lowering her voice so only Ana could hear.

​"Ana..." Clara asked softly, her eyes searching her with genuine concern and heavy hesitation. "Are you... are you actually happy with this?"

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