Damien Vale
The room was golden with light, but Damien Vale stood like a shadow among it—still, controlled, waiting.
He had spent weeks watching Elena try to carve out a new life.
Weeks restraining himself.
Weeks enduring the sight of her growing softer around another man, of Christopher stealing glances he had no right to.
But now, all bets were off.
The press conference was not about Elena. It was about a merger—Vale Industries devouring another empire whole. But the moment the camera lights blinked on, Damien rewrote the narrative. And this time, no one would stop him.
He stepped to the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, voice smooth as ice, "before we speak of business, allow me to clarify something far more personal."
A hush rippled through the crowd.
His gaze found her. Elena. Standing near the exit, eyes already widening.
"This woman," he said, lifting his hand toward her, "is not just someone I once knew. She is the mother of my child."
The room exploded with gasps, murmurs, flashes of cameras.
Elena flinched. The color drained from her face.
"And from this moment forward," Damien continued, undeterred, "let it be known that I will do whatever it takes to protect what is mine."
Reporters were shouting now. Elena turned as if to flee, but he stepped from the podium, cutting through the crowd.
"Elena—"
"Stay away from me!"
Her voice cracked as she turned, hand trembling, shielding herself as if from a blow.
"You don't get to own me!" she hissed.
He paused, the steel in his expression faltering.
"You already belong to me," he said, softer. "You just forgot."
She slapped him.
The crowd gasped again. But Damien didn't flinch.
Instead, he whispered, "You'll remember soon enough."
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