Lena's heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she stepped into Damian's study. The scent of leather and aged whiskey filled the air, but it did little to calm the fire burning inside her.
Damian stood behind his desk, his sleeves rolled up, phone pressed to his ear. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but the tension in his posture told her he wasn't pleased to see her.
"I'll call you back," he said abruptly, ending the call. He set the phone down and leaned against the desk, regarding her with cool detachment. "You've been busy."
Lena crossed her arms. "You lied to me."
His brow arched, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he gestured toward the leather chair in front of his desk. "Sit."
"I'll stand," she said, defiant.
His lips pressed into a thin line. "Suit yourself."
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Finally, Lena spoke. "I went to see Ethan."
Damian's jaw tightened. "Of course you did."
"He told me the truth," she continued, stepping closer. "About the enemies you won't talk about. About the danger you refuse to acknowledge."
Damian exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair. "Ethan talks too much."
"He talks just enough," she shot back. "Unlike you."
His gaze darkened. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Lena."
"Then tell me," she challenged. "Stop treating me like a piece on your chessboard and start telling me what's really going on."
For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. But then, with a heavy sigh, Damian pushed away from the desk and walked to the bar cart, pouring himself a drink.
"There are people who would love nothing more than to see me fall," he said finally. "People who don't care about collateral damage." He turned, glass in hand, meeting her gaze. "Including you."
A shiver ran down her spine, but she lifted her chin. "So, what? You thought keeping me in the dark would protect me?"
"Yes," he said simply.
Lena's chest tightened. "And now?"
He took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost dangerous.
"Now, you're involved."
She swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"
Damian stepped toward her, closing the distance between them in a way that sent her pulse racing. "It means I can't afford to let you go."
Her breath hitched. The words weren't a declaration of affection, but a warning.
Lena had been fighting against this marriage from the beginning, resisting the ties that bound her to Damian Blackwood.
But now, those ties weren't just legal.
They were dangerous.
And no matter how much she wanted to believe she could walk away, she knew the truth.
She was trapped.
Not just in this marriage.
But in his world.
And there was no escaping it now.