Cassie threw the wineglass against the wall.
It shattered like her pride.
"You let her stay after that?" she hissed, pacing Damien's study like a woman unhinged. "She disrespected me. She slapped me. She's turning your entire house into a circus!"
Damien didn't flinch. He poured himself a drink, slow and calm. "The last time I checked, I run this house. Not you."
She scoffed. "But I made you. I stayed when no one else did. And now you're letting some wide-eyed girl—some stray—take my place?"
He downed the drink.
"She didn't take your place," he said coolly. "You gave it up the moment you started acting like a child."
Cassie's face turned crimson. Her hands shook.
"She's a problem, Damien. She'll ruin you."
He looked up slowly.
"No, Cassie," he said. "You will."
**
Diana sat in the marble bath, water up to her collarbones, but she didn't feel the heat.
She just felt… hollow.
Rhys's voice echoed in her head like poison.
"Let's burn him down together."
She gripped the edge of the tub tighter.
She hated him.
But more than that… she hated herself.
For freezing.
For still feeling that rush when Damien kissed her like that.
For not knowing which of them was the real monster.
Claiborne walked in, quiet and composed. She placed a folded towel on the counter.
"He's not sleeping tonight," she said softly. "I passed the hallway—he's sitting in the dark, alone, like he used to before you came."
"I don't care."
Claiborne paused. "Then why are you crying?"
Diana touched her cheek.
Wet.
She hadn't even noticed.
**
Later that night, a knock came.
Not the guards. Not Claiborne.
Cassie.
Diana opened the door slowly.
The woman stood in a silk robe, lipstick smeared like war paint.
"I thought we should talk," she said, stepping inside without waiting for permission. "Woman to woman."
"I'm not interested in your games."
"Oh, this isn't a game, darling. I'm just here to help you understand your role."
Diana folded her arms.
"You think you've won something. But he always comes back to me."
Diana laughed under her breath. "Is that why you're here? To mark your territory?"
Cassie's eyes darkened. "I'm here because you're a naive little girl playing with a man who destroys everything he touches."
"And yet… you keep crawling back to him."
Cassie smiled coldly. "Because I know how to survive him. You don't."
She leaned in closer, whispering against Diana's cheek.
"Careful. Some cages look like castles. Some chains… feel like arms."
And then she left.
But her words stayed.
**
Downstairs, Damien stared at the security footage again.
Rhys's face.
His hand on Diana.
His smirk.
He clenched his fists.
Rhys wasn't just an enemy. He was family.
A betrayal that ran deeper than anyone else knew.
He picked up the phone.
"Find him again," he growled. "I want eyes on Rhys every second. And if he so much as blinks near her, I'll bury him myself."
"Yes, sir."
He hung up.
But he couldn't calm the storm building in his chest.
She'd been touched.
Threatened.
Shaken.
And it made something vicious inside him snap.
He didn't want to protect her anymore.
He wanted to own her pain.
**
The next morning, Diana stepped out of her room and almost ran into Cassie.
Again.
Only this time—Cassie didn't speak.
She just smirked… and handed Diana a letter.
Typed. Neat.
Another anonymous warning.
> You're not safe with him.
I can help you leave. Meet me behind the greenhouse at midnight.
Cassie walked off before Diana could say anything.
Claiborne came up seconds later, her eyes narrowed at the scene.
"She's baiting you."
Diana nodded. "I know."
"Then why do I feel like you're thinking of going?"
Diana didn't answer.
Because part of her was.
Not to escape.
But to see who was really pulling the strings.
And maybe… to set the first fire herself.
**
Midnight.
The greenhouse loomed like a glass skeleton under the moonlight.
Diana's heart pounded, every step slower than the last.
She stepped inside.
Silence.
Then—
"You came."
A voice behind her.
But it wasn't Rhys.
It wasn't Cassie.
It was someone else.
A man with a scar across his jaw.
One of Damien's former allies. Or maybe… another enemy.
"You don't know who you're living with," he said coldly. "Damien Wolfe has blood on his hands. And soon, it'll be yours too."
Before she could speak, a light flicked on.
A red dot on his chest.
Sniper.
Seconds later—guards swarmed in.
And Damien?
He stepped in last.
His eyes locked on hers.
His voice cold as steel.
"I told you never to leave your room at night."
She stepped back. "I wasn't running."
"Then what were you doing?"
"Looking for answers."
Damien's jaw clenched.
He looked at the man being dragged out.
Then back at her.
"You want answers?" he said, his voice low and lethal. "Fine."
He grabbed her wrist and dragged her back toward the estate.
To a place no one else had ever seen.
A door in the basement. Heavy. Steel. Locked with a fingerprint and code.
Inside—files. Weapons. Secrets.
Photos of Rhys. Cassie. Enemies. Allies.
A wall of war.
"You want to know who I am?" he whispered. "Then look, Diana. I've never hidden from blood. But you—"
He turned to her, eyes wild.
"You still think you're clean."
She stared at the photos. The faces.
And then back at him.
"I don't think I'm clean," she said. "But I don't think you're completely dark either."
He grabbed her face, fierce and trembling.
"Then you're a fool."
She nodded.
"But I'm your fool now. Aren't I?"
Silence.
Then, without a word, he kissed her again—hard, furious, desperate.
And she kissed him back.
Because even fools know…
Obsession hurts.
But sometimes, love hurts more