CHAPTER 33
Damien’s POV
Elifted my glass to my lips without tasting the champagne. The conversations around me blurred into a background hum of
empty pleasantries.
Fake La
de laughter. Hollow compliments. Meaningless alliances sealed with overpriced wine.
Thated
Thated this. But Genevieve thrived on it.
She stood a few paces away, wearing a luxurious gown, greeting the crowd with her signature smile. Every word, every gesture
calculated. Definitely charming. A perfect performance indeed.
Meanwhile, I was just trying to keep my temper in check,
Another executive approached, all handshakes and toothy grins. I nodded, murmured something polite, and checked my watch
for the fifth time in ten minutes.
And then it happened. I caught murmurs–words floating in low whispers:
“Is that Theo Mercer?”
“He brought someone?”
“Wait… is that his girlfriend?”
“I didn’t know he was seeing anyone…”
My gut twisted before I even turned.
Theo? A girlfriend?
No. That wasn’t possible. I would’ve heard something. The man didn’t let women get close. He was cold, detached, and
controlled,
Except-
Except when it came to her.
I tumed.
And there he was.
Theo Mercer. Calm, composed, lethal in a tux. And beside him, her arm looped through his…
Celeste. My ex–wife..
My chest clenched.
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The dress she wore shimmered like liquid starlight, perfectly tailored to her form, every movement confident and deliberate. Her chin was raised. Her smile was poised.
She looked like she owned the goddamn room.
And then Theo did it. Subtle, barely noticeable to anyone else, but I saw it. He tightened his hold on her hand, as if possessively.
Not just a gesture to protect her, but to own her too.
Mine
The word flashed across my mind before I could stop it. Rage flared in my throat. I took a step forward, glass forgotten in my
hand
But just as I was about to step into the fire, Genevieve slipped in front of me like a curtain closing on a scene.
She moved with that same polished grace, her arm lightly pressing against my chest to stop me–too gently for how firm her
intent clearly was.
“Damien,” she said in a low, urgent voice, “don’t. Not here.”
I stared past her, jaw clenched. Celeste was laughing at something Theo whispered. Laughing
Genevieve leaned in, dropping her voice even further. “Think for a second. Her reputation is hanging by a thread. The reporters
are already watching her like hawks. If you go over there now, it won’t just be about her–it’ll be about you. About all three of
you,”
I didn’t move.
“She’s not worthy,” she continued, softer now, as if coaxing a child out of a tantrum. “Especially not after what she’s done. You’d only be giving the press more to devour.”
That did it.
My jaw tightened. She’s not worth another headline? No–what Celeste wasn’t worth was being dragged through more dirt she
didn’t deserve.
I turned slowly, fixing Genevieve with a cold stare. “You’re one to talk about headlines,”
She gave me a startled look. “What?”
“I said flatly.
I leaned in slightly, my voice pointed. “I know you used your family’s connections to amplify the rumors.”
Her face went pale. Just for a second. A flicker of shock before the composure slammed back into place like a locked vault.
“I—what are you talking about? I only ever wanted to help-‘
“Don’t,” I cut her off sharply. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”
I didn’t care about the watching eyes anymore. My patience was running dangerously thin. I’d come here to smile and shake
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hands and pretend everything was fine–but that? That was over.
Genevieve opened her mouth to defend herself, but I was already looking past her.
To them.
Celeste looked radiant. Alive. She didn’t need rescuing, Not anymore,
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t burning to do it anyway.
Before I could help myself, I was striding toward their direction. That was when I saw Gracie coming forward with a look of disgust on her face. “Must be nice to have a powerful man cleaning up after your messes,” she sneered at Celeste. “I guess some people really do know how to land on their feet.”
I rushed forward without any hesitation, unable to control the anger that rose within me. “Careful with your words,” sharply.
Gracie turned, startled, her lips parting in disbelief. “Mr. Vaughn-
“She’s not someone you get to insult.” My voice was low and dangerous. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
Gasps spread through the crowd. A dozen pairs of eyes widened and whispers erupted almost instantly.
She shrank back, eyes darting between me and Celeste. “I–I didn’t mean-”
“Tsaid
“I think you did.” I stepped closer, my stare freezing her in place. “Let me make this clear. If I hear you say one more word about her like that, you won’t be welcome in any Vaughn–related event or affiliate again. Understood?”
Gracie paled. She gave a stiff, nervous nod and backed away.
The room fell deathly quiet.
I turned, letting my gaze fall back on Celeste, who was gazing at me without any emotion. I was hoping she’d say something- anything. That she’d be grateful for me standing up for her, not just for Theo being there beside her.
But she just tilted her chin, elegant and unaffected. “We’re not married anymore,” she said loudly and firmly. “There’s no need to keep pretending otherwise.”
My expression must have twisted, because her gaze turned colder.
“We’re divorced, so I’m no longer yours to defend or disgrace,” she added, turning away from me as if I were no different than the rest of the crowd.
A thousand cameras could’ve gone off at that moment, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Her words struck deeper than I expected. She didn’t just say we were over. She wanted people to know it.
Why the hell is she acting like this? And why is she so eager to detach herself from me? Is it because of Theo?!
w I’ll food
She doesn’t even care what people will say, how I’ll feel, after this public announcement about our divorce!
3/4
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And then, before I could reel myself in, her voice rang out again–this time louder, clear enough to silence the nearby
conversations and pull the attention of the press like a magnet.
“If anyone here is still wondering,” she said smoothly, “the rumors that have been circulating about me recently… are false.”
The air thickened.
“I won’t name names,” she continued, her voice steady, confident, almost chilling in its precision, “but someone went to great lengths to ruin me. They paid media outlets, planted false stories, and used powerful connections to discredit me.”
Just as the first question was shouted by a reporter, Celeste turned and smiled in a way that sent a shiver through my bones.
I could tell that this time, she meant war.
