Damien Steele's POV
The day had barely started, and already, I wanted it to end. Cassandra was still here. Still in my house. Still breathing the same air as me.
She waltzed into the dining room like it was her palace, wearing a silk robe that screamed look at me. She grabbed a seat across from me, all smiles and sugary sweetness.
"Good morning, darling," she chirped, pouring herself coffee like she belonged here.
I didn't even glance at her. I was too busy pretending the report in front of me was more important than her voice grating on my nerves.
"You're quiet today," she pressed, leaning forward like she actually cared. "Something on your mind?"
I clenched my jaw, trying not to snap. "I'm busy, Cassandra."
"Oh, don't be like that." Her tone was pure poison wrapped in velvet. "We should start planning the wedding. Time's ticking, Damien."
That did it. I slammed the report onto the table, the sound echoing like a gunshot.
Her smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. "What's wrong?" she asked, all fake innocence.
"Not now," I growled, standing abruptly.
I didn't wait for her response. I stormed out, leaving her muttering under her breath about my attitude. If she only knew how close I was to throwing her out for good.
The moment I got to my office, my phone buzzed. Michael's name flashed on the screen.
"Big day coming up," he teased the second I answered. "Tell me Cassandra isn't coming to my wedding."
I groaned. "She's unavoidable."
Michael chuckled, but his tone turned serious. "You're playing with fire, Damien. Don't let her ruin things."
"She won't," I said, though the words felt like a lie.
As soon as I hung up with Michael, I strode into my office, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a vice. I didn't have time for distractions, so I told my assistant to clear my schedule for Saturday.
"Yes, sir," she said, scribbling a note on her tablet.
"Dismissed," I said curtly.
She nodded and turned to leave but hesitated at the door. "Oh, Mr. Steele, this just came for you."
I raised an eyebrow as she handed me a small folded note. Without a word, I took it, waving her off.
The second she was gone, I unfolded the paper. My stomach churned as I recognized Hannah's handwriting.
"I have nothing to do with Sophie's plans. Please, just let me go. I'll do anything you want."
My jaw clenched as anger flared through me.
I grabbed my phone and dialed the head of security at the location where Hannah was being kept.
"If she escapes," I snarled the moment he answered, "I'll skin you all alive. Double the guards. Triple them if you have to. She doesn't move an inch without my say."
"Yes, sir," came the nervous reply before I hung up.
I leaned back in my chair, gripping the armrests tightly. The audacity of Sophie to involve her sister in this mess—she was playing with fire.
Before I could think further, the door swung open without so much as a knock.
"Damien," Eleanor's voice rang out, laced with her usual condescension. "We need to talk."
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "What now?"
She stepped inside, her designer heels clicking against the marble floor. She looked every bit the part of a queen in her tailored suit, her expression cold and calculating.
"Your wife," she began, emphasizing the word with mock sweetness, "has been complaining about how you're treating her."
I let out a humorless laugh. "Wife? She's not my wife. She's a mistake."
Eleanor's lips curved into a sly smile. "Cassandra is far from a mistake. She's an asset. And if you were smart, you'd treat her as such."
I stood, towering over her. "I don't take lessons from you on what's smart, Eleanor."
Her smile didn't waver, but her eyes darkened. "Careful, Damien. You're treading on dangerous ground. Cassandra isn't as harmless as you think."
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Neither am I."
She held my gaze for a moment, then stepped back, smoothing the fabric of her blazer. "Fine. Play your little games. But don't say I didn't warn you."
As she turned to leave, I called after her. "One more thing."
She paused, glancing over her shoulder.
"Stay out of my personal life."
Eleanor's smirk returned, but she didn't respond. She simply walked out, her presence lingering like a bad memory.
The moment the door shut, I exhaled sharply. This wasn't just a game anymore. Everyone was moving their pieces, and I had to make sure I stayed ahead.
Because one wrong move could cost me everything.
As I sat back in my chair, the weight of everything pressing down on me, a thought crept into my mind—one I couldn't shake no matter how hard I tried. Cassandra.
Legally marrying her wasn't just a move on the chessboard; it was a calculated strike. A public wedding would solidify her loyalty—or at least her image of loyalty—and put an end to any lingering doubts from the board. But it wasn't about love. It was about power, control, and keeping her games in check.
Still, the thought of crafting the perfect narrative for the media gnawed at me. And for that, I needed someone brilliant. Someone who knew how to spin gold out of straw.
Sophie Reed.
Her name alone sent a mix of anger and longing through me. Sophie was the only one smart enough to turn a wedding with Cassandra into a media masterpiece. She was bold, sharp, and utterly unrelenting.
But she betrayed me. She's the reason Hannah is locked away.
My jaw tightened, and I leaned forward, running my hands through my hair. Yet, despite my anger, my mind betrayed me. I thought of Sophie—her fiery comebacks, the way her eyes lit up when she argued, and that maddening smirk when she knew she had the upper hand.
I could almost hear her voice now. "Damien Steele, always so predictable. You think you control the game, but you don't even see the bigger picture."
A smirk tugged at my lips despite myself. She had a way of getting under my skin like no one else. Her defiance wasn't just infuriating—it was magnetic.
My thoughts drifted further. I remembered the tension between us, the way she never backed down no matter how hard I pushed. The way she made me feel alive in a way Cassandra never could.
I shook my head, snapping back to reality.
Focus, Damien.
I couldn't afford distractions, especially not her. She wasn't just a liability—she was dangerous. She had a way of pulling people in, making them believe in her. And now, she was out there somewhere, probably plotting her next move.
And yet, the thought of her didn't leave me. It clung to me like a shadow, haunting me with what could've been.
But this wasn't a fairy tale.
This was war. And in war, there's no room for sentiment.
I pushed myself up from the chair, walking to the window overlooking the city. The skyline was lit up, a testament to power and ambition.
I couldn't let Sophie, or anyone else, derail me.
The wedding with Cassandra would go forward. The world would see me as untouchable, and Cassandra would fall into line.
As for Sophie? She'd made her choice.
And I'd made mine.