Chapter 4

Grace's POV

After that dinner, I thought Damien would disappear for a while, but I was wrong.

Over the next few months, he became almost a regular at our house. There was always some reason—bringing flowers for Gabrielle, taking her to a movie, or simply "just passing by." Each time, he would find an opportunity to be alone with me for a few minutes.

One weekend evening, I was preparing dinner in the kitchen when I heard familiar footsteps behind me. My hand froze mid-air, gripping the knife handle, afraid to turn around.

"Need any help?" his voice came from right behind me.

I forced myself to turn and found him leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

"Gabrielle is upstairs changing," I tried to maintain my distance. "You can wait for her in the living room."

He didn't move. Instead, he walked into the kitchen. "Do you remember the books we read together?"

My heart started racing. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He chuckled softly, his voice carrying a painful nostalgia. "When you lie, you still bite your lower lip. That habit hasn't changed in ten years."

I instinctively released my lip, only to realize this action further exposed my nervousness.

"See," his eyes flashed with triumph, "some things never change."

Footsteps echoed from the staircase—Gabrielle was coming down. Damien immediately stepped back, resuming his perfect boyfriend persona.

The next day, I was watering flowers in the backyard when he appeared again. This time without any excuse; he had come specifically for me.

The sun was setting, casting golden light on the garden gazebo. He sat across from me—for the first time in two years, we were truly face to face.

"I had seventeen surgeries," he suddenly said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Each one carried a risk of failure, but I had to see you again."

My hands trembled, barely able to hold the watering can. "Why are you looking for me?"

He stared at me, his eyes filled with a heartbreaking pain. "My father was a monster, but you... you were the only angel in that hell. I never blamed you for shooting me, because that was your choice to be free."

His words struck the softest part of my heart. I had always thought he would hate me, would seek revenge for my "betrayal." But he said he never blamed me?

"Then why—" my voice choked.

"Because I love you," his voice was as light as a feather, yet as heavy as a thousand pounds. "From the first moment I saw you ten years ago, I knew you were the only person I ever wanted to protect. After my father died, I spent two years rebuilding the empire, not for power, but to be worthy of standing before you."

Looking at the sincerity and pain in his eyes, the defenses in my heart began to crumble. Maybe he really did love me? Perhaps his feelings for me weren't just possessiveness?

But reason told me this could be just another one of his tactics.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, his words filling my mind. Just as I was about to drift off, Gabrielle's excited voice came from downstairs.

"Mom! Dad! I have great news!"

I heard conversation from the living room, Gabrielle's voice filled with uncontainable joy: "Damien hinted today that he thinks we're perfect together, and that there might be some big developments soon! He also said he wants to introduce me to his family!"

Mom's excited squeal followed: "Really? Oh my God, our little princess is marrying into wealth!"

"He's so good to me, sends flowers every day. Mom, I think he's going to propose soon!" Gabrielle's voice carried the sweetness of someone who would smile even in her dreams.

Dad's laughter joined in: "He is impressive—wealthy, talented, and so devoted to you. Looks like we're getting a fine son-in-law."

I covered my mouth tightly, preventing myself from making any sound. Gabrielle had no idea that what she thought was perfect love was just an elaborately designed trap. And she was merely a tool for him to get closer to me.

Just then, I heard faint footsteps outside my window. I held my breath, knowing it was him—he had climbed up to my window.

"Grace, I know you're awake." His voice was very low.

I almost immediately sat up in bed and walked barefoot to the window.

"You must have heard the conversation downstairs," his voice carried a cold honesty. "She thinks I'm going to marry her, but that's just my way of getting close to you."

My blood instantly froze. "What are you planning to do?"

"Get her pregnant, then leave her at the right time. That way, she won't suspect my true intentions; she'll just think I'm a heartless jerk."

I opened my bedroom door and glared at him standing outside. The moonlight from the hallway window cast upon him, making him look both divine and dangerous.

"You're insane! You'll ruin her life!" My voice trembled with anger and shock.

He stepped forward, and I instinctively backed away, but he didn't enter my room. "She's not good to you, is she? None of your family treats you well. They deserve to be punished."

"You're still the same person who will do anything to get what you want," my voice shook with anger.

Pain flashed in his eyes, but his tone remained resolute: "But what I want, from beginning to end, has only been you." His voice held a heartbreaking desperation. "Will you give me a chance? Will you let me explain?"

I couldn't answer because I knew the answer was no.

"Grace," he called my name softly, "give me one chance to prove my love isn't possession, but genuine. If you're willing to come back to me, I'll leave Gabrielle right now, and we can go anywhere you want."

I leaned against the doorframe, feeling my legs weaken. "And if I refuse?"

He was silent for a long time before finally saying: "Then I'll continue with my plan. In another month, Gabrielle will be pregnant. By then, whether you want to or not, you'll negotiate with me out of guilt."

This was him—always having a backup plan, always able to use everyone as pawns. But this time, he gave me the choice.

"I need time to think," I finally said.

He nodded, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I'll give you one week. After that, if you still refuse me, I'll proceed with my original plan."

He climbed back down from outside the window. I slid down against the door to the floor.

Downstairs, Gabrielle was still excitedly discussing her "bright future" with our parents, completely unaware she was standing at the edge of a cliff.

And I, once again, was forced to make a choice in his meticulously arranged game.

For the first time, I began to wonder: Maybe he really did love me? But could I bear this love filled with deception, manipulation, and possessiveness?

Even more terrifying was the realization that a voice inside me was asking: Do I still love him?

The answer to that question frightened me more than anything else.