Chapter 4

Chloe's POV

Even the car crash was staged.

I shut my eyes, a suffocating weight crushing my chest.

I couldn't understand how far Damon was willing to go.

I remembered the moment of impact clearly.

He had jerked the wheel toward the passenger side.

Yet in the very last fraction of a second, he threw his body over mine to take the brunt of it.

If this was all revenge, shouldn't he be thrilled to see me mangled?

Why throw himself in front of me?

Why break his own ribs to shield me?

A dangerous thought flickered in my mind.

I crushed it immediately, refusing to entertain it.

Damon Sterling.

You better truly feel nothing for me. You better have used me from start to finish.

Because if you didn't, you will suffer ten thousand times worse than I ever will.

Over the next few days, Damon never left my hospital room.

Even with two broken ribs.

The doctor ordered him to stay on bed rest, but he refused, hovering over me day and night.

The families of other patients in the ward whispered among themselves, praising what an incredible, devoted boyfriend he was.

Only I knew it was all theater.

His tenderness, his devotion, his sleepless nights—it was all a lie.

On the day of my discharge, Damon said I had been cooped up too long and wanted to take me out to unwind.

The venue was a friend's newly opened photography studio, hosting an evening launch party.

The lighting was dim, the music pulsing.

Damon stayed glued to my side, catering to my every need.

His friends and associates treated me with unnatural deference.

Yet the gnawing dread in my gut only grew worse.

The doors swung open, and Victoria Caldwell walked in.

The room stiffened.

Just as Damon was about to snap, several of his associates hurried over to intercept her, muttering under their breath:

"Didn't we already agree on this?"

"Leave the rest to us. Just sit back and watch the show."

Victoria smirked:

"Don't worry, I'm not here to start a fight. I'm here to join in."

"Damon's going to be my husband anyway. If he's taking down his enemies, shouldn't I lend a hand?"

She leaned in and whispered something into one guy's ear.

The man exchanged a knowing, sickening look with the person beside him.

I strained my ears to listen, but the pounding bass drowned out their words.

Her instructions delivered, Victoria strolled over to me with a plastic smile:

"Miss Vance, I was wrong earlier. Damon already chewed me out."

"He never agreed to the family marriage. He only has eyes for you."

My brow furrowed, the warning bells in my head screaming louder.

I couldn't fathom her sudden change of heart, but instinct told me she was setting a trap.

Damon looked equally dark, his eyes darting between Victoria and me.

Victoria acted as if nothing was wrong, pulling a set of keys from her designer purse and handing them over:

"Miss Vance, this is the key to my new yacht. Take it as an apology."

I didn't reach for it.

"No need. I'm not staying in New York."

Damon's face went rigid instantly.

He grabbed my wrist with enough force to splinter bone.

The man who was always in absolute control suddenly sounded frantic:

"Chloe, what does that mean?"

"I'm in New York. Where else would you go?"

"You're going to marry me..."