Before I could even steady myself, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. His grip was brutal, digging into my skin. I could feel his breath near my face—too close, too hot, too angry.
“You really think I’ll let you do that?” he hissed. “Try exposing me and I swear, I’ll tell everyone who you really are. Your precious background? Fake. Your family? Paid actors. You’re nothing like the woman you pretend to be.”
“Damien—” I started, but my voice broke.
His words hurt worse than the slap.
And the worst part? He wasn’t bluffing. I could tell. He would destroy me without hesitation.
For a moment, I thought maybe I should just let it all fall apart. I was exhausted—of lying, of pretending, of carrying secrets that kept getting heavier every day. Maybe if everything came crashing down, I’d finally be free.
But then my grandmother came to mind.
Weak. Frail. Her heart already fragile.
If she ever found out what I did—if she learned I built my entire life on lies just to marry into this world—she wouldn’t survive it. I could almost picture her collapsing, the way she used to when she got too stressed. The thought froze me in place.
I couldn’t let that happen.