CHAPTER 9
Celeste’s POV
Theo’s arm was still
let go.
wrapped around me, steadying me against him. His grip was firm but careful, as if I might break apart if he
I was extremely grateful that he was here for me, with me. I always knew I could depend on him. But now, while my husband
watched us, I felt Theo’s arms holding me even tighter. The air became subtle.
My heart pounded wildly as Damien strode forward, his eyes sharp with a kind of fury that I had never seen from him before.
Wait, is that… jealousy?
A bitter laugh almost escaped me, but I swallowed it down. Don’t be stupid, Celeste! Damien Vaughn- jealous? No, that’s
Impossible.
I had to be losing my mind. I must have imagined it. More likely, it was frustration–anger at being defied. But the rage radiating off him was almost tangible, thickening the air between us.
His gaze darkened the moment he saw Theo holding me up. Then, his lips curled into a cruel sneer.
“Celeste, how many lovers do you have?” he suddenly blurted out, fuming. “One in the video, and now another?”
I froze. A sickening twist knotted my stomach.
Not this again.
After all the torture and heartbreak, did he still think I would accept all his ridicule and degrading? I couldn’t help but sneer, the sound similar to what Damien used to be towards me. Now I had learned it too.
I opened my mouth, but then I saw Theo’s expression immediately harden, his stance also shifting to one of being protective.
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” he shot back, stepping in front of me like a shield. “You’re the asshole husband here.”
I was startled. I had never seen this side of Theo before.
Damien was taken aback, his jaw locking tight. Theo Mercer had just challenged him outright. And knowing my husband, he was never known to back down from any challenge, especially with someone he considered a rival.
A crushing silence then followed, the tension so dense it felt like it was squeezing the air from my lungs.
Their rivalry had always been bitter, stretching back years. Even after I married Damien, it became increasingly severe.
Once, for the sake of my love for him, I had tried to keep my distance from Theo.
But now?
Now, I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for Damien again.
1/3
+20 Bonus
Slowly, I turned my back on Theo and met Damien’s glare head–on.
“Don’t bother me,” I said coldly.
I saw it then the shock in his eyes. Like he never expected me to say those words. Like he thought I would always beg and cling
to him.
Well, he’s damn wrong, I thought bitterly. That Celeste does not exist anymore.
I turned to leave. However, for a brief second, something inside me hesitated. Maybe there was still a part of me that held on to
our past.
But the stronger part of me the part that had endured humiliation, betrayal, and heartbreak–was done. So damn tired.
Tired of fighting for a man who never fought for me.
Tired of begging for scraps of affection.
Tired of Damien Vaughn thinking he still owned me.
Besides, Auntie needed me. I had to go to her. That was my priority now.
With a deep breath, I took another step forward, farther away from Damien. Theo went to follow behind me.
But before I could take another step, a hand clamped around my wrist. A sharp jolt ran up my arm as Damien’s grip tightened.
“You’re my wife. His voice came from behind me, low and edged with quiet fury. “Where do you think you’re going?”
My breath hitched.
I turned back slowly, my gaze locking onto his. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes…
His eyes burned. There was something dark there, something I couldn’t name. Possessiveness? Anger? Or maybe, for the first time in years… something dangerously close to fear.
The realization sent a bitter thrill through me. Finally, It was my turn.
Before I could yank my arm away, another voice sliced through the tension like ice.
A voice so calm, so eerily controlled, it sent a chill down my spine. “Let. Her. Go.”
His words weren’t a request, but undoubtedly a command. The kind that left no room for defiance.
I stiffened. And beside me, I could feel Damien’s grip freezing too. They both stood there, staring hard at each other, facing off
squarely.
I stood frozen, trapped between their standoff, my pulse hammering.
For a split second, I thought they might actually fight.
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CHARTER D
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Damien’s stance shifted ever so slightly, his fingers flexing like he was seconds away from throwing the first punch.
Theo, on the other hand, didn’t move. He just stood there, still as stone, exuding an unsettling calm. But I knew better–that kind
of silence was more dangerous than any outburst.
My breath caught.
Would he really risk everything to protect me? Would Damien really go that far?
Then–without warning–Damien let go. A breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding rushed out of me. Relief should have come
next, but it didn’t.
Because his gaze dropped to my hands.
And then, he saw them.
The scars.
Not even the long sleeves I wore could hide the ones peeking out from beneath the cuffs.
Damien stilled. His brows furrowed, confusion flashing across his face before something else replaced it–concern.
Genuine concern. For me.
Before I could pull away, he reached out, fingers wrapping around my wrist, lifting my arm with careful precision.
My eyes widened. His thumb brushed over the raised scars, tracing them as if trying to make sense of what
at he was
Then his voice dropped, no longer sharp or accusatory–just low and probing..
was seeing
“Where did you get these?” His grip tightened slightly, like he was bracing himself for the answer. “Tell me what happened,
