His Wife By Midnight
Chapter 6
The elevator doors slid open.
A silhouette stood there.
Slim. Tall. Draped in red.
Long dark curls spilling over bare shoulders.
My breath caught.
Damon's fingers tightened around my wrist but then loosened.
His entire body shifted...
not into fear but anger.
Cold, sharp anger.
"Elena."
The woman stepped forward, heels clicking against the polished floor like she owned the sound.
When the lights flickered back to full brightness, her face became clear.
Of course I recognized her.
Elena Knight.
Supermodel.
Brand ambassador.
The woman every gossip blog had once paired with Damon Black.
And the woman who now stared at me like she'd caught a thief rummaging through her drawers.
Her red lips curved into a slow, poisonous smile.
"Well" she purred "I see the rumors were true."
My throat tightened. "Wh-What are you doing here?"
She flicked her gaze over me, head to toe, like I was a stain on the floor.
"I needed to speak to Damon" she said. "Privately."
Damon stepped in front of me, blocking her view.
"You used my elevator override" he said flatly. "Who gave you access?"
She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. "You did, remember? Six months ago. When you still cared."
A muscle jumped in Damon's jaw. "That access should've been revoked."
"Mm." She tapped the elevator panel with one manicured nail. "Looks like someone forgot."
Her attention drifted over his shoulder back to me.
"And who is she again?" Elena asked sweetly. "Your new... assistant?"
Before I could open my mouth, Damon said "My wife."
His voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
It struck like a thunderclap.
Elena's smile vanished.
She blinked once... twice... then laughed.
Loud. Disbelieving.
"Damon" she whispered, stepping closer, "you didn't."
His eyes didn't blink. "I did."
Her gaze snapped to me, sharper this time, her expression twisting with something ugly.
"So this... little girl," she said, each word dripping venom, "is the reason you've been ignoring my calls? Canceling meetings? Avoiding events?"
I stiffened behind Damon, heat flushing my face.
Little girl.
"You're trespassing" Damon said quietly. "Say what you came to say and leave."
Her red painted nail tapped against her thigh. "You were supposed to announce our partnership next week. Knight Agency already informed the board."
A chill raced down my spine. The board?
Elena worked with Black Corp's board?
Her voice turned low, almost proud. "Some of your shareholders still prefer me by your side. They think I'm... stabilizing."
Stabilizing?
Was that code for controllable?
Damon didn't flinch. "The board will adjust."
"And what about me?" Elena demanded. "You just dropped me without warning? Without explanation?"
For the first time tonight, Damon's voice held a faint edge of impatience.
"Elena. Go home."
Her gaze slid back to me, her eyes narrowing to thin slits.
"You won't last," she whispered venomously. "Girls like you never do."
Before I could react, Damon spoke sharply:
"Enough."
The command cut through the air.
Elena flinched and for a split second, fear flickered in her eyes.
She turned around sharply, heels clicking viciously as she stormed back to the elevator.
But just before the doors closed, she pointed two fingers toward me.
"Careful," she said, her voice dripping with threat. "You're playing in a world you don't understand."
The doors slid shut.
Silence swallowed the hall.
I exhaled shakily, leaning against the wall. "Who is she really, Damon?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he dragged a hand through his hair something he'd never done in front of me.
A sign of stress.
"Elena is a problem" he said at last. "One I thought I'd handled."
"But she works with Black Corp's board?"
"A minority of them," he corrected sharply. "Not all."
"And they prefer her with you?" I asked, my voice small.
His eyes locked onto mine.
"They prefer control," he said quietly. "And Elena gives them the illusion of it."
The illusion.
So she was a pawn. A beautiful one.
But still a pawn.
"And me?" I asked before I could stop myself. "What do I give them?"
Damon took one slow step toward me.
Then another.
Until his shadow blended with mine.
"You" he murmured, "give them nothing. And that's why you're dangerous to them."
Dangerous. Me.
My pulse quickened.
"But you didn't bring me here for them," I whispered.
"No," he answered. "I brought you here for me."
My breath stuck in my throat.
He didn't explain further.
He simply turned toward the door.
"We leave at nine in the morning" he said. "Wear something formal."
"For what?"
"You're coming to Black Corp."
Before I could say anything else he left.
Then I entered back inside the room and went straight to the bed.
I barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, Elena's words replayed: You won't last.
When morning came, I dressed in one of the new outfits inside the closet Damon provided. A soft cream blouse tucked into a fitted navy skirt.
Simple. Safe.
Very unlike me.
I stepped out into the living room.
Damon was already there.
In a charcoal suit that looked like it cost more than my mother's surgery.
Tall.
Cold.
Impossible to read.
His eyes swept over me once, slow, lingering, unreadable.
"Good," he said, as if approving an employee's uniform. "Let's eat." Then he went to the dinning area.
He walked past me to seat down.
The long table had already been set, white porcelain plates, crystal glasses, and neatly folded linen napkins waiting in silence.
Then chef entered first.
He was tall, dressed in crisp white, his movements calm and precise.
"Good morning Sir, Good morning Ma" the chef said with a slight bow. "Breakfast is served."
"Good morning" I answered. But Damon answered with a nod.
He began to place the dishes one by one.
First came a fluffy vegetable omelette, golden at the edges, steam still rising from its surface.
Beside it, he laid warm, buttered toast, cut into neat triangles.
Then a bowl of creamy oatmeal, crowned with sliced bananas and a drizzle of honey.
A glass of fresh orange juice caught the light as he set it gently near the plate.
Each plate was positioned with careful precision, as if the food itself were royalty.
The chef stepped back, hands folded behind him.
"Should you require anything else, I will be close by," he said before turning smoothly on his heel and leaving the room in quiet elegance.
The only sound left was the soft clink of cutlery and the weight of everything that had not yet been said.
After eating we left for the car.
The car was silent.
But Damon wasn't calm.
Not truly.
I saw it in the way his fingers tapped against his thigh.
The way his jaw tightened when his phone buzzed.
The board was probably waiting.
Or watching.
"Stay close to me when we arrive" he said. "Don't speak to anyone unless I tell you to."
I frowned. "Is it that dangerous?"
"Yes."
Just that.
No added explanation.
I turned toward the window. The city rushed by, tall buildings blurring into silver streaks.
"Damon?" I asked quietly.
He didn't look at me.
"Was Elena telling the truth? Were you supposed to announce something with her?"
His silence answered for him.
My chest tightened.
"Was she supposed to be your wife?" I asked before I could stop myself.
His gaze snapped to mine cold, but sharp, almost offended.
"No" he said firmly. "Never."
I swallowed. "Then why was she so sure you belonged to her?"
He turned his head away, expression darkening.
"Because people like Elena believe ownership is the same thing as attention."
"Is it?" His voice went quiet.
"Not with me."
He didn't elaborate. And I didn't ask again.
The car turned onto a private drive.
Black Corp's headquarters, security posted everywhere.
All eyes turned as our car approached.
Damon stepped out first.
Then he extended a hand for me.
I placed my fingers in his and his grip tightened just slightly.
We walked through the gates together.
People whispered.
Phones lifted discreetly.
Even the guards stared.
Damon didn't look at any of them. But every single one looked at me.
And not kindly.
Inside the lobby, a group of executives stood waiting.
Among them is a pair of cold, calculating eyes fixed right on me.
Not Elena but someone worse.
A shareholder.
Damon's hand brushed mine again barely a touch.
"Don't react" he murmured.
"Why?" I whispered.
His jaw tightened.
"Because the man walking toward us," he said, "is one of the people who wanted Elena at my side."
The man stopped in front of us, lips curling into a thin, sharp smile.
"Mr. Black," he said. "And... the wife we didn't know you married."
His eyes gleamed with suspicion.
With threat.
With knowledge.
Damon's grip on me tightened imperceptibly.
"Careful," he whispered near my ear. "This is where things get dangerous."
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