Chapter 66
Damian’s POV
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Valerie and I lived together, but the distance between us remained. My father’s will lingered, a constant reminder of what I had to do.
Get Valerie pregnant within ten months or lose everything.
But Valerie’s wounds ran deep. The miscarriage still haunted her, and her hatred for me simmered just below the surface.
I tried to be patient, to give her space.
But time was running out.
I watched her, studied her, searching for any sign of healing. Any sign of forgiveness.
But her eyes remained cold, her smile a rare sight.
We’d have dinner together, and I’d try to bring up the topic.
“Valerie, we need to talk about… us. About starting a family.”
She’d push her chair back, her eyes flashing anger.
“Don’t, Damian. I’m not ready.”
Ready?
Ready to forgive me?
Ready to love me again?
Ready to carry our child?
I felt desperate. My father’s will had become a ticking time bomb.
I began to notice little things. Valerie’s avoidance of intimacy. Her reluctance to discuss our future. Her lingering grief.
It was like living with a ghost. A ghost of the woman I once loved. A woman who was once madly in love with me.
One night, I approached her as she brushed her hair.
“Valerie, please,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “We need to try. For us. For our future.”
She turned, her eyes blazing.
“You want me to get pregnant just to satisfy your father’s will, don’t you?” she spat.
“No, Valerie. I want us to start anew. To heal together.”
“Liar,” she hissed, her voice venomous.
I felt a pang of guilt.
Was I using her?
Was I manipulating her?
But I loved her. I wanted us to be whole again. Like we used to be.
But Valerie’s expression told me otherwise. She saw me as a monster. A monster who’d broken her.
I backed away, feeling defeated. The silence between us grew thicker. A chasm I couldn’t bridge.
As the days passed, my desperation grew. I’d do anything. Anything to make her love me again. Anything to make her pregnant.
But Valerie remained elusive. Untouchable. Unforgiving. And I was running out of time.
Damn it!
************
Valerie’s POV
I stood in the kitchen, my hands trembling as I washed the dishes. Damian’s constant pressure was suffocating me. He wanted me to get pregnant, to fulfill his father’s will, but he didn’t care about my feelings.
Didn’t care about the pain he’d caused. Didn’t care about the baby we’d lost.
I felt a presence behind me and turned to see Damian leaning against the counter, his eyes burning with frustration.
“Valerie, we need to talk,” he said, his voice low and menacing.
I turned back to the dishes, my heart racing.
“What is it, Damian?” I asked, my voice flat.
“You’re avoiding me,” he accused. “You’re avoiding us.”
I spun around, my eyes flashing. “You think I’m avoiding you? You think I want to be near you after everything you’ve done?”
Damian’s face darkened. “I’ve apologized, Valerie. I’ve done everything to make it right.”
“Everything?” I repeated, my voice rising. “You think apologies fix everything? You think saying sorry makes up for cheating on me, for losing our child?”
Damian’s jaw clenched. “I’m warning you, Valerie. If you continue to push me away, I’ll find someone who wants me. Someone who’ll give me what I need.”
My eyes widened in shock. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yes, I am,” he spat. “I’ll do whatever it takes to secure my inheritance. And if that means finding another wife, so be it.”
I felt a slap of anger. “You’d do that? You’d throw me away like trash? I’m not even surprised. You’ve done it before.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not giving me a choice, Valerie. You’re not giving us a chance.”
“A chance?” I laughed, the sound bitter. “You want a chance? You had your chance, Damian. And you blew it.”
The kitchen erupted into a heated argument, our voices clashing like thunder.
“You’re just punishing me!” Damian shouted.
“I’m protecting myself!” I shot back.
“From what? From love? From happiness?”
“From you!” I screamed. “From the pain you cause me!”
Damian’s face twisted in anger. “Fine. Have it your way. But know this: I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want. And if that means leaving you, I will.”
I stood tall, my heart pounding. “Leave then. See if I care.”
Damian’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, I thought he’d hit me.
But he turned and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving me shaking with rage.
The silence that followed was oppressive, heavy with unspoken threats.
I knew Damian wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his ultimatum.
And I knew I couldn’t give in. Not now. Not ever.
Days passed, and the tension between us grew thicker. We avoided each other, barely speaking.
The argument still lingered, a festering wound. Our daily routines became mechanical, lacking any warmth or connection.
I felt Damian’s eyes on me, watching, waiting. But I refused to meet his gaze. The hurt and anger still simmered, bubbling just below the surface.
One evening, Damian came home with a bottle of wine. “Let’s talk,” he said, his voice forced.
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. What could he possibly want to talk about? The tension between us was palpable.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked, my tone flat.
“Us,” he replied, pouring two glasses. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of the man I once loved.
I hesitated, but took the glass. We sat on the couch, sipping wine in silence. Damian refilled my glass. And again. And again. The wine flowed, and my inhibitions began to slip away. It soon made my head light, making me feel free.
At first, I felt uneasy, but as the wine took effect, my guard began to drop.
The room blurred, and my thoughts became fuzzy. Damian’s words became a gentle hum in the background, soothing and reassuring.
“Valerie,” Damian whispered, his voice husky, his eyes locked onto mine. His hand brushed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.
I felt a flutter in my chest, a spark of desire. No, I told myself. Don’t let him in. What is happening to me? Why am I desiring him all of a sudden?
“Damian, no, I must go to bed now.” I slurred, trying to pull away. I stood up to leave the room, but the room spun around me and I landed in his arms.
He stared deeply into my eyes, his blue eyes, giving me a piercing gaze. My blood was hot and the only thing I wanted was to touched.
I put my arms around his neck and he bent and kissed me.
But he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine. Soft. Persuasive. His hands roamed, touching, caressing. I felt my body respond, betraying my mind.
No. No. No. A part of me was trying to resist but the fire within me was fierce.
But it was too late. The room spun, darkness closed in, and I was lost.
—
The next morning, I woke with a pounding headache and vague memories of last night. Regret washed over me.
What had I done?
Damian lay beside me, smiling, satisfied.
“Good morning Babe,” he whispered.
I turned away, nausea churning in my stomach.
“Don’t touch me,” I spat.
Damian’s smile faltered, but he didn’t back away.
“You’re mine, Valerie. Don’t forget that.” he whispered.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
Trapped. Captive. Used.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Damian had manipulated me, taken advantage of me. Anger surged through me.
“How could you?” I demanded, my voice shaking.
Damian’s expression turned cold.
“I did what needed to be done,” he said.
I knew then that I had to escape. Run far away from this madness.
But how? And where could I go?
The questions swirled in my mind, as I lay trapped in Damian’s bed, his arms wrapped around me like chains.
“Let go of me, you Bastard! I’ll make sure you pay for this.” I declared, storming out of the room.
“You sure enjoyed yourself last night. We can go again this morning if you want!” Damian chirped after I left.
He is obviously impressed with himself for what he has done. Luckily for him, I was ovulating yesterday.
But last night was not so bad afterall. I think I’ll give him a chance to know if I’ll conceive.