2

I narrow my eyes at him, refusing to back down. “Well, congratulations on your impressive track record. Too bad it ends here.”

Damian chuckles darkly, his gaze flickering with amusement. “You think you’re immune to me, Daisy-Belle ? You can’t even hide the way your body reacts when I’m close.”

“You’re delusional,” I snap, folding my arms across my chest. “Whatever you think you see, it’s not there. I’m not one of your conquests, Damian , and I never will be.”

He steps even closer, his cologne washing over me, a mix of cedarwood and something sharp, like a challenge. “We’ll see,” he murmurs, his voice low and infuriatingly confident.

I take a step back, needing the distance to breathe. “This isn’t a game, Damian . You can’t charm your way out of this arrangement or make it something it’s not. I’m here for one reason and one reason only—to get Dexter out of trouble and to start a family of my own. You and I? We’re nothing but a means to an end.”

His smirk falters, just for a second, before he quickly recovers. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself, fine. But don’t underestimate me, Daisy-Belle . I don’t lose.”

“Then consider this your first loss,” I shoot back, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest.

Damian ’s eyes narrow, the playful glint replaced by something darker, something more determined. “We’ll see about that.”

I don’t wait for him to say anything else. Spinning on my heel, I stride down the hallway, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Each step takes me farther away from Damian , but his presence lingers, a heavy weight I can’t shake.

The ornate double doors leading to the front entrance come into view, and with a rush of relief, I push them open, the cold winter air biting against my skin as I step outside. For a moment, I pause, letting the chill calm my racing heart.

This is my life now, I remind myself. A life bound to Damian Gunn and the cold, oppressive walls of Highwood Manor.

But as I walk toward my car, one thought anchors me: I might be trapped in this marriage, but I’ll never let Damian —or his father—control me.

The drive away from Highwood Manor feels both freeing and suffocating. The cold winter air sneaks through the cracked window, stinging my cheeks, but I don’t care. I need it—anything to remind me that I’m still in control of something, even if it’s just the temperature in my car.

Damian ’s kiss lingers like an unwelcome stain, the heat of it refusing to fade despite the cold air blasting from the vents. I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white as the memory of his smug smirk and arrogant words replay in my mind. How dare he?

Pulling up to the side of the road, I slam the car into park and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I whisper, the words heavy with regret.

This isn’t just a marriage of convenience—it’s a cage. A gilded, luxurious cage where the bars are Damian ’s arrogance, Charles’s manipulation, and my own desperation to protect the people I love.

I close my eyes, breathing deeply to calm the storm raging inside me. Dexter is safe now. That’s what matters. Lia and Toby can finally have the life they deserve. And me? Well, I’ll endure. I’ve survived worse, haven’t I?

But surviving and living are two very different things, and the thought of spending the next few years shackled to a man like Damian Gunn feels like a death sentence.

With a sigh, I sit back up and pull back onto the road. I need to get home, to my own space, to the people who remind me what real love and family feel like.

The house feels different when I step inside, like it’s already starting to slip away from me. The warmth of the fireplace, the clutter of Dexter’s forgotten shoes by the door, the faint smell of Lia’s cooking—it’s all so painfully normal. And soon, it won’t be mine anymore.

“Daisy-Belle ?” Lia’s voice calls from the kitchen.

I force a smile and make my way toward her, finding her standing over the stove, stirring a pot of something that smells like heaven. Toby is sitting at the table, scribbling furiously in his coloring book, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“You’re back early,” Lia says, glancing at me with a curious tilt of her head. “How did it go?”

I shrug, leaning against the counter. “It’s done. The contract’s signed.”

Lia’s spoon pauses mid-stir, her eyes widening. “Already?”

“Yeah,” I reply, my voice flat.

She sets the spoon down and steps closer, concern etched into her features. “Are you okay?”

No. Not even a little bit. “I’m fine,” I lie. “Just tired.”

Lia doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she wraps me in a hug, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort of it.

“You’re doing this for the right reasons,” she whispers.

I nod against her shoulder, not trusting myself to speak.

“Daisy-Belle , look!” Toby suddenly pipes up, holding up his drawing with a proud grin. “It’s us!”

I pull away from Lia and crouch down to look at the picture. Toby’s drawn a stick-figure family: himself, Lia, Dexter, and me, all holding hands. The simplicity of it nearly undoes me.

“It’s perfect,” I tell him, ruffling his hair.

His smile grows wider, and I feel a pang of sadness. This is what I’m fighting for—this little boy’s happiness, his chance at a future free of the shadows that Charles Gunn has cast over my family.

But as much as I want to hold onto this moment, reality looms. In a week, I’ll be moving into Highwood Manor, leaving behind the life I’ve built here.

And somehow, I’ll have to find a way to survive in a world where people like Charles and Damian Gunn make the rules.