Matilda's Pov 

After Gaius Richmond III revealed my true identity, the atmosphere at the ball shifted like a sudden storm. Whispers spread through the hall like wildfire. Every gaze that had once dismissed me now lingered, curious, calculating, or in utter disbelief.

They knew now: I was an heiress to the Geal fortune.

Not everyone took it well.

Eunice, Gabriel, and Aria looked like they were living their worst collective nightmare. They had retreated to a dim corner, whispering furiously among themselves. Eunice’s face was pale with rage, Aria’s expression frozen in disbelief, and Gabriel looked like a man on the brink. When his eyes met mine, I raised my glass to him, savoring the bitter taste of Chardonnay and the even sweeter taste of his misery. He probably thought he’d married a nobody. Now, he had to sit with regret.

I was still relishing the moment when Damon leaned in and nudged me gently.

“So,” he said, eyes twinkling, “you were married to Gabriel, and they really didn’t know who you were?”

I hesitated. Part of me didn’t want to respond. He was Gabriel’s cousin after all, and that alone made him a persona non-grata. But Damon had kept me grounded earlier, stopped me from lunging at Eunice when I was ready to explode. He didn’t seem like the others. And maybe I owed him, if only a sliver of truth.

“Yes,” I admitted. “He had never met my mother." The woman he thought was my mom is actually my housekeeper. I never corrected him. My real mother cut me off when I chose to marry him, so I didn’t see any point in bringing her up.”

Damon chuckled softly. “My aunt must be furious." If she’d known who you truly were, she would’ve kissed the ground you walked on.”

I blinked. “Really?”

He rose and walked toward a nearby table, and I found myself instinctively following. “Yes,” he said over his shoulder, his tone casual. “My aunt’s love for money and status is practically legendary." She would do anything for it.”

We reached a quiet table near the edge of the ballroom. Damon pulled out a chair for me.

“Would you like to eat something?” he asked. “Or another drink before I take you home?”

His comment about Eunice being a shameless gold-digging, social climber was still bouncing around my mind. Was it possible that Damon was nothing like them?

I sat down, still watching him carefully. He joined me with that same calm energy that was both frustrating and magnetic.

“I’m not hungry,” I said. “But I’ll take another glass of Chardonnay.” Then I raised a brow. “And what makes you think I’d let you take me home?”

Damon grinned, flashing a perfect set of teeth. “I really don’t know,” he said smoothly. “But I get the feeling you’re the kind of person who gives people a chance, especially when they’re trying to prove they’re nothing like their cousin.”

He made my eyes steady and open.

I was impressed, if I’m honest, not by the charm, but the way he said it. Genuine. Calm. Almost vulnerable. Still, I wasn’t one to fall for sweet words. And yet… part of me wanted to keep listening, wanted to stay in that chair and lose myself in those beautiful blue eyes and the warmth of his voice.

Then, like a badly timed interlude, Gabriel appeared beside our table. His expression was soft, his eyes desperate. He had his puppy dog. The kind he used when he wanted something.

“Mati,” he said, using the pet name I hadn’t heard in months. “We need to talk.”

I flinched. He was trying to appeal to the part of me that used to love him. But that part had died. Alongside our baby.

“I don’t want to talk to you now, or ever,” I said, glaring at him. “Go fuck yourself.”

Damon leaned back casually. “You heard the lady,” he said, his tone amused.

Gabriel’s face twisted with frustration. “This is none of your business, Damon. "This is between me and my wife.“I’m not your wife, douchebag,” I snapped. “Go back to your whore, or whatever she is to you.”

Just then, Eunice and Aria arrived, faces tight with tension. Damon looked up.

“Aunt Eunice,” he said coolly, “please take your son away from here.”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened. “I’ve told you. This is none of your business! I’m talking to my wife. She’s still my wife, the divorce isn’t finalized!”

I laughed, loud and unapologetic. “Gabriel, our divorce was finalized a week after I left that decrepit house of yours. My mother made sure of it. I’m not tied to you in any way, shape, or form.”

In one sudden movement, Gabriel grabbed my wrist.

“I don’t care,” he said. “You’re still my wife.”

That was the last straw.

I slapped him hard across the left cheek. The sound cracked through the air, and a red mark bloomed instantly on his face.

He stumbled back a step, stunned.

I didn’t apologize.

And I didn’t look away.

“Don’t you ever touch me again in your life.”

Eunice rushed over, her heels clacking against the marble floor. Gabriel cradled his cheek, wincing in pain.

“How dare you hit my son when he just wanted to talk to you?” Eunice demanded, eyes blazing.

I looked at her and smiled, refusing to dignify her with a response. She wasn’t worth my words.

Instead, I turned to Damon, took his hand, and said calmly, “I would love you to take me home now.”

Damon smiled. “My pleasure.”

We had just turned to leave when Eunice spat, “So this is what you do? Leave your husband for his cousin?”

I paused, then slowly turned around to face her. Damon did the same, standing tall by my side.

“I’ll do you one better,” I said, eyes drifting to Damon’s lips.

Then I kissed him.

His lips were warm, and for a second, he was caught off guard, but he responded, kissing me back. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a message. One that Gabriel wouldn't be able to ignore.

I felt the heat of his gaze even before he charged toward us in a blind rage. Damon pulled away just in time and met Gabriel with a swift, clean punch.

Gabriel flew backward, crashing into Eunice. The two of them landed in a tangled heap on the floor.

I looked down at them, smiled without pity, and walked out with Damon, my heels echoing with every step.