“Careful.”
Damian’s voice came in a low whisper—deep, breathy, almost instinctively concerned.
For a fleeting second, Evelyn saw the Damian she used to know.
The man who would lose his composure whenever she was hurt.
The man who would immediately reach for her whenever she stumbled, as though her pain were his own.
But the moment passed.
And with it came the truth she had been trying so desperately to accept.
It had all been an act.
His concern.
His tenderness.
Every gentle touch and every reassuring word.
All of it had been a carefully crafted lie designed to make her believe in something that had never existed.
Evelyn’s expression turned cold.
She slipped a hand between them and pushed against his chest, forcing herself out of his hold.
“I wasn’t careful when I should have been,” she said quietly, bitterness edging her voice.
“Now it doesn’t matter.”
She stepped away.
But before she could move any farther, she noticed Xavier behind her.
He was already down on one knee, carefully freeing the train of her gown from beneath her heel.
Evelyn took another step back without noticing him.
Her heel nearly caught against him, making her stumble.
However, Damian’s hand shot out again.
He caught her wrist and pulled her back against him.
The movement was quick —almost harsh.
His other arm immediately settled around her waist, holding her firmly in place.
Evelyn stiffened.
She looked up at him, annoyance flashing through her eyes.
“I don’t need your help,” she gritted out.
Damian lowered his gaze to her.
For a moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
Then it vanished beneath that familiar coldness.
“Don’t misunderstand.” His voice was quiet, almost indifferent.
“I didn’t catch you because I was worried.”
Evelyn’s fingers curled.
“Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t believe otherwise.”
His gaze grew sterner, traveling slowly over her face before settling on her eyes, as though he disliked what she had said —or the certainty with which she had said it.
“Evelyn Beaumont, remember this.” His voice lowered.
“You’re already mine.”
The words came softer than he intended.
In the next second, he tightened his arm around her waist and added darkly,
“The pawn on my board.”
His eyes held hers.
“You don’t get to choose whether you’re careful or not.”
Evelyn’s brows drew together.
Damian’s voice carried an unmistakable edge.
“I do.” He paused.
“And I’ve decided you don’t get to fall before this wedding is finished.”
Evelyn’s heart tightened.
She hated how easily his words could still affect her.
“You already got what you wanted, didn’t you?” she whispered.
“Now why continue this farce?
Why can’t you just let go?” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Damian stared at her.
His gaze darkened.
“I already got what I wanted?” A quiet scoff escaped him, as though her assumption were almost laughable.
His jaw clenched.
Then he leaned closer, lowering his face until his lips were near her ear.
“I’m far from getting what I actually want, darling.” His voice dropped to a cold whisper.
“Don’t misunderstand my goal.”
Evelyn’s body stiffened.
His arm remained firm around her waist.
“I want to destroy your father.
Completely.
In a way he can never recover from.”
He paused, letting the words sink in.
“And until your father is standing on his two feet —with his life, his power, and even the slightest bit of strength left in him —this isn’t over.”
His eyes hardened.
“Your marriage to me is only the beginning.”
Only the beginning.
His gaze shifted toward Charles, who stood below the stage.
He wasn’t defeated enough.
He wasn’t on his knees.
He wasn’t begging Damian to spare his life.
No.
This was far … far from over.
To everyone else, this might have looked like nothing more than a rivalry between two mafia factions.
But that was not even the scrap of the real thing.
The feud between Damian and Charles Beaumont ran far deeper than anyone could realize in this hall.
Not even Charles.
And until he settled that feud, nothing else mattered.
Nothing.
As that determination hardened inside him, Damian’s gaze briefly returned to Evelyn, and he repeated it in his head.
‘Nothing.’
Behind them, Xavier rose to his feet and returned to Damian’s side.
“Sir, it’s been done,” he said.
Damian’s gaze dropped to the train of Evelyn’s gown.
Only after making sure it was lying smoothly behind her, he loosened his hold around her waist and finally let her go.
Evelyn immediately stepped away, putting as much distance between them as the narrow space allowed.
Neither said another word.
They were ready.
And that was the signal Xavier had been waiting for.
He stepped away from the stage and gave the officiant a subtle nod.
The lights around the hall dimmed, leaving a single wash of light over the couple standing at the altar.
The officiant cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here tonight to witness the union of Damian Callahan and Evelyn Beaumont.”
His voice sounded almost surreal against the suffocating tension hanging over the hall.
There were no smiles.
No cheers.
No warmth.
Only hundreds of eyes watching the two people standing before them.
Evelyn stood perfectly still.
The red of her gown burned beneath the chandeliers, but her expression remained pale and distant.
The officiant turned toward Damian.
“Do you, Damian Callahan, take Evelyn Beaumont as your lawfully wedded wife —to stand beside her through whatever comes, to protect and honor her, and to remain with her for the rest of your life?” Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping(.)com.
A strange silence followed.
Damian didn’t look at the officiant.
His gaze remained fixed on Evelyn.
But she refused to meet his eyes.
“I do.”
His answer came without hesitation.
And somehow, that made it hurt even more.
The officiant nodded before turning toward Evelyn.
“And do you, Evelyn Beaumont, take Damian Callahan as your lawfully wedded husband—to stand beside him through whatever comes, to honor him, and to remain with him for the rest of your life?”
Evelyn’s fingers curled tightly inside the folds of her gown.
For a moment, she couldn’t speak.
The words I do felt like a betrayal of the woman she had been only hours ago.
The woman who had walked into this hall believing she would marry the man she loved.
The woman who had waited for him to come and steal her away.
Instead, she was standing beside the man who had turned that love into a weapon.
Her throat tightened.
Slowly, she lifted her eyes.
This time, she met Damian’s gaze.
His expression remained unreadable —cold, steady, and waiting.
Evelyn stared at him.
At the man she had loved.
At the man she had trusted.
At the man who had deceived her.
Every cell in her body screamed at her to refuse.
To walk away.
To fight.
But there was nowhere left to go.
Her father had made his choice.
Damian had made his.
And now she had to make hers.
She swallowed hard.
“I…” Her voice nearly broke.
She forced herself to breathe.
Then, with the last shred of strength she could gather, she said,
“I do.”
The words left her lips quietly.
Yet, they echoed through the silent hall.
Damian’s gaze shifted for the briefest second, something unreadable passing through his eyes.
A satisfaction, perhaps.
Xavier stepped forward with a velvet box.
Inside lay a diamond ring bearing the Callahan crest —almost unnoticeable.
“Sir,” he said.
Damian took the ring from the box and reached for Evelyn’s hand before sliding it on her finger.
The metal should have felt cold and soothing against her skin.
Instead, it seemed to ignite something deep inside her.
Evelyn slowly lifted her gaze and stared into Damian’s eyes.
A flame burned within her amber eyes —a fierce, wounded fire that seemed determined to consume him in the same flames that were consuming him.
Damian stared back without wavering.
The officiant continued,
“By the authority entrusted to me, I now pronounce you husband and wife, until death do you part.”