Damien’s POV

It wasn’t Elena. From the moment she stepped onto the aisle, I had known it wasn’t her.

And now, as I sat in her family’s study, listening to the matriarch, Victoria Moreau offer some flimsy excuse, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of her twisted plots.

“Mr Lancaster, I assure you, we had nothing to do with this.” She said, her tone laced with just the right amount of sincerity. “The girl is just desperate. All we ask is that you return her and we will bring Elena to you.”

I didn’t respond right away. I let the silence settle, watching how easily they wrote her off. As she were a stain to scrub off.

“Return her?” My voice cut through the tensed silence, low but sharp. “She’s not a misplaced object, Victoria Moreau.”

“She forced her way into this marriage.” She insisted. “We all saw it. It was premeditated and foolish!”

So was leaving the altar empty, I almost said. Instead, I straightened myself and listen to her words, each one laced with hypocrisy.

My eyes darted from Victoria to the man she called her second son, then to the daughter-in-law dolled up to match the image. They quietly stood behind, stiff as if they were merely backdrops—props to enhance her powerful appearance.

“She embarrassed us all,” She went on. “It was a…pathetic stunt!”

Clearly Siena meant nothing to this family. They had overlooked her courage all because it hadn’t been shaped by their damn approval.

I got on my feet, my motion slow and measured. “Then perhaps you should have raised her better.” I retorted.

Her mouth parted to speak, but she was too stunned to say a word.

“The deed is done. We were married in front of the priest and witnesses. I don’t take that back.” I told them, my voice cold and steady.

“You can’t possibly mean to keep her,” Marla Moreau muttered, as if she had finally come to life.

I scoffed, adjusting my cufflinks. “I meant to marry a Moreau, and that’s what I did.”

“She’s not Elena.” Marla cut back, her tone tight with desperation.

“No,” I said, buttoning my suit jacket. “But at least she had the nerve to show up.”

Victoria face suddenly went pale. “Mr Lancaster, she’s not strong enough for your world.”

“Then she’ll either adapt…or break. Either way, she’s mine now.”

They stared back at me in a dazed silence.

“Now if you’d excuse me,” I said, turning toward the door. “I have a wife waiting for me at home.”

“Mr Lancaster, please,” Victoria called after me. “Show some mercy.”

As if you ever did in the past. I thought.

I didn’t stop walking. I stepped out, out of that mansion, and out of that cursed estate built on the blood, sweat and deceit. I couldn’t stand another second there.

A small sigh escaped my lips as I slumped into the back seat of the Bentley. My mind wasn’t reeling. It was analysing.

What was Siena’s motive?

Did she really think she could fool me with such an act? That I was that naïve?

When we got home, I didn’t wait. I stormed into the foyer, ignoring the butler’s presence like he was nothing more than air, and made my way straight to the living room where I knew she would be.

There she stood, pacing back and forth, pale and frantic, in the wedding dress that seemed like the only reasonable thing she had ever worn.

I had seen her before, always in unattractive clothes, cowering like a shadow behind her sister. She seemed almost like a servant to the Moreau family. How could she let them treat her this way?

Anger surged in my chest at the thought.

Then, as if on cue, she froze in place and our eyes met. Without realizing it, my feet were already moving toward, my body compelled by an instinct I couldn’t quite place.

In a flash, I was in front of her, and before she could react, my hands flew through her throat, pinning her against the wall.

“How dare you?!” I growled, feeling her pulse racing beneath my fingers like drumbeats.

“Tell me. Your family put you up to this, didn’t they?!” I snapped, anger boiling in my stomach.

Her body trembled with fear, her piercing blue eyes now clouding with tears—how dare her, when she had brought this on herself.

“Answer me, goddamn it!” I said, my tone sharper than I intended.

Her throat bobbed up and down with each breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She finally managed to say.

Pathetic.

I could feel her crumbling beneath my gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks, pouring down her barely covered chest. I quickly looked away, frustration simmering in my chest.

“Hell, Siena. I wanted someone useful, not a liability!” I said my voice cold and detached.

By now, her face was a mess—her cheeks had turned red, mascara trailing down her face like ink.

At that moment, a sharp throat clearing cut through the chaos from behind me.

I blinked, and looked away, my hands slowly dropping away from her throat then stepped back, as if the moment never happened.

“Take her to the room upstairs,” I told the butler, Harris, without meeting his eyes.

I quietly returned to my study, sinking into the chair as I let out an exasperated sigh. At the same time, a sharp knock interrupted my thoughts, followed by the door creaking open.

It was Ethan, my right hand and personal assistant.

“The butler says she’s settled in right now…So, what’s the plan now?” he asked, his tone laced with mild annoyance. “The thing is…you could have easily called it off out there and no one would have questioned you.” He finally said.

“It doesn’t matter.” I replied, my voice low and exhausted.

His eyes widened in surprise but he couldn’t say anything.

Without another thought, I sat upright, anger rising in my chest. “A Moreau is still a Moreau…Commence with the plan.”

It’s time to punish the Moreaus for their wrongdoings.