A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

Giovanna stood in the massive walk-in closet. She bypassed the flashy, revealing clothes she used to wear to annoy Damien. She pulled out a tailored, burgundy Ivy League-style dress. The high collar perfectly hid the marks on her neck.

When she walked out, Damien was waiting by the bedroom door. He wore a dark, bespoke suit that cost more than most people's houses. His eyes swept over her, still calculating, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Giovanna didn't hesitate. She walked up to him and slid her hand through the crook of his arm.

They walked down the sweeping marble staircase together.

The maids dusting the foyer stopped moving. They stared, their mouths slightly open, shocked to see the master of the house and his volatile wife walking arm-in-arm without screaming at each other.

They entered the long dining room. Damien pulled out a chair for her at the mahogany table before taking his seat at the head.

A maid placed a steaming cup of black coffee in front of Giovanna. Damien had always ordered it for her, thinking she liked it.

Giovanna pushed the coffee away. She reach for the glass of warm, sweet milk meant for her oatmeal. She lifted the glass and playfully clinked it against Damien's coffee mug.

Before Damien could process the change, a low, sharp beep sounded from the earpiece of the head of security standing by the door.

The security chief stepped forward. "Boss. Elara Vang is at the front gate."

The air in the room dropped ten degrees. Damien's face turned to stone. "Deny entry."

Giovanna knew Elara would come. She reached across the table and placed her hand over Damien's clenched fist.

"D," she said softly, her thumb rubbing over his white knuckles. "Let her in. I have some things I need to say to my dear sister."

Damien stared at her hand on his. He looked up, his dark eyes searching hers. He hated it, but he gave a sharp nod to the security chief.

Three minutes later, the dining room doors burst open.

Elara rushed in. She wore a pristine white designer skirt suit. Her eyes were already rimmed with red, her face the perfect picture of frantic worry.

She completely ignored Damien. She ran straight toward Giovanna, reaching out to grab her hands.

"Gio!" Elara cried out, her voice trembling with fake tears. "Are you okay? Did he force you again last night?"

The silence in the dining room became suffocating. The killing intent rolling off Damien's body was a physical weight in the air.

Elara waited for the explosion. She waited for Giovanna to scream, to throw her milk at Damien, to demand to leave.

Giovanna didn't move. She picked up a linen napkin, elegantly dabbed the corner of her mouth, and slowly stood up.

She sidestepped Elara's reaching hands. She looked at her sister the way one looks at a rotting piece of meat on the sidewalk.

Elara's hands fell to her sides. A cold spike of panic hit her stomach. This wasn't the script.

Giovanna took a step forward, closing the distance.

Without a single change in her expression, Giovanna raised her right hand and slapped Elara across the face.

The crack of skin against skin echoed off the high ceiling like a gunshot. The force of the blow threw Elara off balance. She crashed hard onto the polished wood floor.

The maids gasped. Even Damien's eyes widened a fraction of an inch.

Elara held her rapidly swelling cheek. She stared up at Giovanna, genuine shock replacing the fake tears. "Are you crazy?! I'm trying to help you!"

Giovanna looked down at her. A cruel, mocking smile touched her lips.

"Help me?" Giovanna's voice was crystal clear, making sure every person in the room heard her. "Or help me piss off my husband?"

She turned her head. She looked right at Damien. Her smile softened into something incredibly warm.

"Listen closely, Elara," Giovanna said, her eyes never leaving Damien's. "He is my beloved husband. I will not tolerate you disrespecting him in our home."

Damien's chest hitched. The dark, violent storm in his eyes vanished, replaced by a burning, obsessive heat. The words 'beloved husband' wrapped around his heart and squeezed tight.