The Heiress's Vengeance: Sleeping With The Enemy

"You deserve the very best, Julia."

Damian's voice whispered in her ear, his arms wrapping around her like a warm and solid cage. Beneath your feet, Central Park is like a pitch-black and sprawling heart, nestled between the ribs of the city's lights. The diamond necklace she wears around her neck feels cold to the skin, and its weight is a delightful, solid promise.

She tilted her head back, gazing at the man she had loved for three years. Three years. One thousand and ninety-five days. Every day is like this—perfect, effortless, as if stepping into the life destined for her.

"So beautiful, Damian." She spoke softly, tracing the sharp and perfect facets of the main stone with her fingertips. "Thank you."

"For you, everything is worth it." He kissed her temple. His cologne—a custom blend of sandalwood and a certain spicy, youthful scent—fills her senses. That is the smell of safety, the smell of home.

A faint, satisfied smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "I only need to handle an urgent email. Give me five minutes, and then the newly opened Michelin restaurant in the city center will be ours. ”

"Alright." That word is gentle and full of love.

She watched him walk toward the study, his broad shoulders radiating confidence beneath the custom-made suit. The love she felt was something tangible, spreading from her chest to her fingertips. She is the luckiest woman in New York.

He disappeared into the study. Julia's gaze fell on the handbag on the marble entryway table. An excited current rushed through her—today was no ordinary day, their anniversary, and she had prepared a gift for him.

She took out the small velvet jewelry box. Inside lies a pair of vintage silver cufflinks, intricately engraved with a knight's helmet—a hint at his surname. The gift was perfect, but one card was missing.

A sudden idea flashed through me—bright and playful. Damian put his father's old fountain pen—a beautiful, heavy Montblanc—in the study's safe. He once smiled and told her the password—it was her birthday. Writing a message with that pen will make this gift truly unique.

She wanted to surprise him.

With a dizzy smile on her face, she took off her high heels, tiptoed across the cold marble floor, and headed toward the study. She wanted to sneak in, grab the pen, and return to the living room before he even noticed.

The heavy oak door was left ajar. She saw him through the crack in the door, his back to her, casting a silhouette in the glow of the monitor. He was on a video call.

She stopped, not wanting to disturb her. She can wait. But then, a harsh and unfamiliar voice drifted out from the computer speakers.

"Knight, the Whitney warehouse fire was really done efficiently."

Julia's heart suddenly pounded against her ribs. Warehouse fire? That was last week. Her father suffered from sleepless nights because of this, and the stress carved new marks into the corners of his eyes.

Then, she heard Damian's laughter. It was a smile she had never heard before—cold, harsh, without a trace of warmth.

"That's just an appetizer." His voice was full of contempt, making the air freeze. "Did Charles Whitney think a small loss of inventory was the end? He is truly pitiful. ”

The blood in Julia's veins had frozen into ice. She couldn't move, her feet seemed to be stuck to the floor.

Another man's voice sounded hoarse again. "What about that video? Are you really planning to play it at his birthday party? ”

"Of course." The cruelty in Damian's tone was like a physical blow. "I want all of New York to see what his precious daughter—his little Park Avenue princess—is really like in bed."

A roar filled Julia's ears, so loud she thought she might faint. That video. Their video. Those private moments she thought belonged only to the two of them. The air in her lungs was drained, and she couldn't breathe.

"She's a spoiled, silly girl." Damian's tone was casual yet cruelly dissecting her entire world. "She loves me so much that she can't tell right from wrong." Whatever I told her to do, she did. I've played this role for three years, I'm already tired of it. ”

The accomplice on the screen laughed. "Once you take over Whitney Enterprises, you can get rid of her."

"Dump her?" Damian's voice carried a chilling playfulness. "No. After humiliating her in front of all of New York, I wanted her to beg me not to leave. ”

A wave of intense nausea surged in his stomach. She covered her mouth with her hand, her knuckles pressed tightly against her teeth, suppressing the scream that was about to burst from her throat.

The man she loved. That aura was that of her man. He wasn't real. He is a monster wearing a Damian mask.

Tears welled up, burning and bitter, but she forced herself to swallow them back, swallowing the sobs that almost betrayed her. Her body began to tremble—a violent, uncontrollable tremor triggered by pure fear and anger. Every word he spoke was a blade tempered with poison, tormenting her piece by piece.

She heard the "click" sound of the call ending. Footsteps. He was walking toward the door.

A primal, pure panic exploded in her chest. She had to hide. Her eyes scanned anxiously and found a deep niche in the hallway, hidden in the shadows. She threw herself in with a silent, coherent movement, her back pressed against the cold wall.

The study door suddenly swung open. Damian came out, and the mask returned to his face—the warm, loving smile she had loved so deeply was pressed back on.

He didn't see her. He walked straight to the living room.

"Darling," he called out, his voice returning to her familiar gentle melody. "It's all sorted out. Are you ready? ”

Julia watched his back from the darkness, feeling as if she were looking at a stranger—a predator perfectly disguised as a human.

She took a deep breath, rough and painful, forcibly suppressing the screaming fear in her stomach into a cold, taut knot in her stomach. She couldn't let him know. If he finds out, then it's over—everything is over.

She wiped away the silent tears streaming down her cheeks with the back of her hand, smoothed her skirt, and forced her trembling lips into a smile.

Her world had just been reduced to ashes.

But the war was only just beginning.

She stepped out of the shadows.