Discarded Bride, Billionaire's Obsession

"Emma."

Adrian's voice cut through the music. Cold. Sharp. Furious.

Damien and I stopped dancing. He kept his arm around my waist, pulling me closer—possessive, protective.

"Adrian," I said, keeping my voice steady. "What a surprise." I said smiling.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His eyes raked over me, over the dress, over Damien's hand on my body. "And with him?"

"I'm attending a charity gala with my fiancé," I said sweetly. "Is that a problem?"

Melissa's jaw actually dropped. "Fiancé?"

Adrian's face had gone from red to almost purple. "You're not engaged."

"Actually, she is." Damien extended his free hand toward Adrian—the picture of politeness. "Damien Cross. I don't believe we've been formally introduced. Oh wait, yes we have. When you tried to steal my company."

Adrian ignored his hand. "This is a joke."

"Our engagement? I assure you, it's very real." Damien pulled me even closer. I could feel his heartbeat against my back—steady, calm. Mine was racing. "Emma said yes three days ago. Didn't she tell you?"

"Three days—" Adrian turned to me. "We were just discussing the divorce three days ago!"

"And I decided I didn't want to sign," I said. The lie came easier than I expected. "Not your version, anyway. My lawyers are drafting something more... appropriate."

"Your lawyers?" Adrian laughed, but it sounded unhinged. "You don't have lawyers. You don't have money. You don't have anything—"

"She has me," Damien interrupted. His voice was still polite, but there was steel underneath. "Which means she has the best legal team in the state. I'd suggest you prepare for a real negotiation, Castellan."

People were starting to stare. Phones were coming out.

Adrian noticed. His jaw clenched. "We need to talk. Privately."

"I don't think so," I said without hesitating.

"Emma" He reached for my arm.

Damien moved faster. He stepped between us, blocking Adrian completely.

"Touch her again," Damien said quietly, "and I'll break your hand."

The ballroom went silent.

Adrian and Damien stared at each other. The tension was suffocating.

"This isn't over," Adrian finally said.

"No," Damien agreed. "It's not. But right now, you're making a scene at your own charity gala. Your mother is watching from the balcony, and she looks very disappointed."

Adrian's eyes flicked up. Sure enough, Mrs. Castellan was watching with a pinched expression.

He stepped back. Straightened his jacket.

"Enjoy your evening," he said through gritted teeth. Then to me: "We will talk about this."

"No," I said. "We won't."

He left, dragging a stunned Melissa with him.

The moment they were gone, my knees almost gave out. Damien caught me.

"Breathe," he murmured into my ear. "You did perfectly."

"I think I'm going to throw up."

"Not in the Valentino dress, you're not." He guided me toward a private balcony, away from the prying eyes. "Come on."

The cool night air hit my face, and I gasped.

"Oh my God," I said. "Oh my God, did that actually just happen?"

I was so proud of myself for starting to overcome Adrian because he's a lot.

"It did." Damien leaned against the railing. "And it was spectacular."

"He looked like he wanted to murder you."

"Good. That means it's working." I smiled.

He pulled out his phone. "The video is already trending on social media. 'Damien Cross's Mystery Fiancée Confronts Her Ex.' You're famous, Emma."

"I don't want to be famous," I said. My hands were shaking. "I just wanted—I don't know what I wanted."

"Yes, you do." Damien pocketed his phone and turned to face me. "You wanted him to see you. To really see you. To realize what he lost."

"Did he?" I asked quietly. "Did he realize?"

"Did you see his face when he looked at you?" Damien stepped closer. "He realized. Trust me."

I closed my eyes. "This is crazy."

"Yes."

"We barely know each other."

"Also yes."

"I'm technically still married to him—"

"Not for long." Damien tilted my chin up. "Look at me."

I did.

"You did so well tonight," he said. "Better than I expected. You didn't break. You didn't cry. You stood there in your red dress and made him see exactly what he threw away."

"I was terrified," I admitted because that's true.

"I know. But you didn't show it." His thumb brushed my cheek. "That's strength, Emma."

The way he was looking at me—like I was something precious, something worth protecting—made my chest ache.

"Why are you really doing this?" I whispered. "It's not just about revenge, is it?"

I knew it wasn't just about the revenge and I looked straight to him to tell me if really it is.

Damien's expression shifted. Something darker crossed his face.

"Adrian Castellan destroyed something that mattered to me," he said quietly. "Not just my company. Something else. Someone else."

"Who?" I asked. I was more curious. I need to know more.

"My sister." His jaw clenched. "Three years ago, Adrian convinced her to invest her trust fund in one of his guaranteed ventures. It was a scam. She lost everything. And when she tried to fight back, when she tried to expose him, he buried her under legal fees and NDAs until she gave up."

My heart sank. "Damien"

"She moved to Europe to escape the shame," he continued. "Haven't seen her in two years. She won't even take my calls." His eyes met mine. "So yes, Emma. This is about revenge. But it's also about justice. Adrian Castellan has hurt too many people. He needs to pay."

I understood now. This wasn't just business. It was personal.

"What happened to your sister," I said, "it won't happen to me. I promise I'll see this through."

"I know you will." He stepped back, giving me space. "Come on. We should get back before people start gossiping."

"Too late for that," I said.

He smiled. "Fair point."

We stayed at the gala for another hour. I could feel Adrian's eyes on me the entire time—watching as Damien introduced me to his business partners, as we danced, as he kept his hand on me like I was something precious.

Every glance, every touch was calculated. And it was working.

When we finally left, the photographers went crazy again. This time, Damien kissed my hand for the cameras. It was chaste, old-fashioned, and somehow more intimate than anything Adrian had ever done.

In the car, I finally let myself collapse.

"How long do we have to keep this up?" I asked.

"Six months," Damien said. "Until the Hartfield merger falls through."

"And then?"

"Then you're free. Five million dollars richer, legally divorced, and you can do whatever you want with your life."

Six months of pretending to be in love with Damien Cross. Six months of driving Adrian crazy.

Six months of being the woman I'd always wanted to be—strong, confident, untouchable.

"Okay," I said. "What's next?"

"Next?" Damien's smile was dangerous. "Next, you move in with me."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"We're engaged, Emma. Engaged couples live together. If you stay in that little apartment, no one will believe this is real."

"I can't just move in with you—"

"You can, and you will." His tone left no room for argument. "My penthouse has five bedrooms. You'll have your own space. Your own bathroom. Complete privacy. But publicly, we need to sell this relationship. Which means you need to be seen coming and going from my place."

He was right. I hated it, but he was right.

"When?" I asked.

"Tomorrow. I'll send movers for your things."

"I barely have any things—"

"Then it'll be quick." He looked at me. "This is happening, Emma. Are you ready?"

Was I ready to move in with a stranger? To pretend to be engaged to him? To face Adrian's wrath for the next six months?

No.

But I was going to do it anyway.

"I'm ready," I said.

Damien's smile was pure satisfaction.

"Welcome to your new life, darling."