Damian walked back to Alina slowly, every step pulsing with restrained fury. He still couldn't believe that man had dared to harass his wife—his wife—over a coat he himself had given her. It was freezing outside; he had simply wanted her warm. And yet some stranger decided to turn it into an excuse to corner her.
He reached her, placed a hand gently on her head, and patted it with surprising tenderness.
"Don't worry about him," he said, voice low and controlled. "He's going to pay for what he did to you."
Alina shook her head quickly.
"No, don't do anything to him. I'm fine. He only wanted my number, and when I didn't give it to him, he used the only tactic he could think of." She tried to reason with him, voice soft but firm.
Damian's jaw locked.
"What if there were people around?" he asked tightly. "They would have believed every ridiculous thing he said about you." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "And who said he could have your number?"
She exhaled, eyes closing.
"I'm used to it," she murmured. "I could've handled it myself. You didn't have to come back. It's not new to me. Before… I used to fight back. Please, let it go."
He stared at her, long and hard, as if trying to piece together every hidden story behind her calmness. What had she endured to become this quiet in the face of insults?
"If it makes you feel better," he finally said, voice gentler than she'd ever heard from him, "I'm sorry."
Damian pulled her softly into his embrace. "I shouldn't have given you that coat."
Alina blinked in shock. Damian Thorn—apologizing? To her?
"You don't need to feel guilty," she whispered against his chest. "None of us knew this would happen." She breathed in his cologne, warm and intoxicating. His body was solid, grounding… dangerously comforting. She hadn't realized how much she'd needed warmth until now.
Damian exhaled slowly, eyes darkening. He wouldn't touch that man now. Not yet. His wife came first.
"Sister?"
Alina jolted back like she'd been caught stealing something forbidden. She practically jumped out of Damian's arms.
"Kelvin!" she forced a smile, rushing to him, leaving Damian standing there—silent, stunned. She'd slipped so naturally into his embrace… he'd almost forgotten they weren't a real couple.
Kelvin grinned wide and hurried to her. He'd dashed out of class the moment the closing bell rang, expecting to find his sister waiting in the parking lot like always. But seeing her in the arms of a tall stranger? That had been… new.
"How was school?" Alina asked, smoothing his messy hair. She took his lunchbox and led him toward Damian, who was watching them with unreadable eyes.
Kelvin huffed.
"Emma and Calvin told everyone about Dad and Mom. They said Dad's gone crazy." His annoyance was clear. Their neighbors' kids always poked at wounds Kelvin tried desperately to hide.
"Well, you don't have to take their words seriously. That makes you better than them," Alina assured gently. Mockery was nothing new to them; they'd built their lives around ignoring whispers.
"I'll try," Kelvin muttered, then eyed Damian—the tall stranger who had been hugging his sister. Handsome. Broad. Almost unreal. Kelvin had never seen Alina with a boyfriend, so who the heck was this?
"Kelvin, this is Damian Thorn. Damian, this is Kelvin, my brother," Alina introduced. "And that's Lucas—Damian's assistant." Lucas was already back behind the wheel, watching everything.
Kelvin nodded, then looked up at Damian with innocent boldness.
"Are you my sister's boyfriend? I just saw you hugging her."
"Kelvin!" Alina hissed, mortified, her ears burning pink.
"No," Damian replied immediately, lips curving in a smug, satisfied smirk. "She's my wife."
Kelvin gaped.
"W-wife? Really? That's… sudden."
"Yes," Damian said, fully ignoring Alina's glare. "We haven't set a date for the official ceremony, but legally, we're husband and wife."
Alina turned on him like he had grown horns.
"I thought we agreed there wouldn't be an official wedding!" she whispered angrily, face bleaching pale.
"I changed my mind," Damian said easily. He offered Kelvin his hand. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of your sister."
Kelvin nodded and followed him toward the car, while Alina just stood rooted to the ground—stunned, confused, spiraling.
A real wedding? Why? What was he planning? Why wasn't anything adding up?
Damian helped Kelvin into the car, then settled into the passenger seat. He knew the idea had shocked her. Maybe she thought he was joking earlier when he'd told her they would have a real family. But her anger today… the way she'd scolded him… it had stirred something foreign inside him. Something warm and unwelcome.
As the car rolled out of the school, people stared openly. A luxury car leaving with two siblings inside—a sight they'd never witnessed.
Kelvin broke the silence.
"He was the one who paid for Mom's surgery, right?"
"You saw the documents," Alina replied quietly. Kelvin had skimmed through the scattered papers the day she brought the brown envelope home.
"I know you did it for Mom and me." He looked out the window. "He treats you well, you know. Being officially married isn't that bad."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Alina whispered, gripping her shirt tightly. "I had plans for my life… dreams. Not this. I can't marry a man I don't love. And I won't marry someone who sees me as an asset."
Kelvin sighed. He was young, but far from clueless.
"I want to see you in a wedding dress someday. Being in a contract marriage is worse than divorce. Worse than being a widow—"
"Enough, Kelvin!" she snapped, voice cracking.
Damian closed his eyes as her voice echoed through the transmitter. Lucas gripped the wheel tighter, irritation radiating off him.
"Elena is furious," Lucas muttered. "Her manager said she rejected three big modeling contracts today."
Alina shifted.
"We're getting down here."
Lucas slowed to a stop. They weren't anywhere near home, but she couldn't let them see where she lived. She slipped off the coat Damian had given her and placed it neatly on the seat. Kelvin got out with her. Holding the plastic container Damian had packed for her, she crossed the street and waited silently for the local bus.
No coat.
Thin clothes.
Showing the reality she never wanted him to see.
Damian looked away, jaw tight.
"She's out of your league," Lucas muttered under his breath. "Think about your reputation. Elena is a far better partner."
Damian's eyes darkened.
"My father chose her. The Gray Corporation was thriving until last year. Then everything collapsed. Employees fled. The company went bankrupt. Mrs. Gray's health worsened. Mr. Gray drowned himself in alcohol. And I keep wondering," he said quietly, "what my father had to do with their fall."
"Maybe he was an old friend?" Lucas offered.
Damian's expression hardened.
"Run a full background check on Alina, her brother, and her mother. Everything."
"Yes, sir," Lucas said tightly.
"And make sure the butler knows Miss Vaughn is leaving next week. Have her belongings returned."
Lucas stiffened.
"Are you certain? Sir, marrying someone like her—"
"Alina is my wife," Damian cut in calmly. "If you like Elena so much, you can have her."