Chapter 38: The Fiancée of the Deed

The gates of Blackstone Manor swung open.

Damon drove through without slowing. The long driveway curved between trimmed hedges and old oak trees. The manor sat at the end of it, a massive stone structure with tall windows and a dark roof. His home now. Still strange to think that.

He parked the Lamborghini near the front steps .

Lily stirred in the passenger seat but didn’t wake. He left her there. She’d sleep it off. The dress Eleanor picked fit her well enough.

He walked inside alone.

The main hall was quiet. He ignored all of it and headed straight for the study.

Thomas stood beside the desk.

The old man’s posture was straight as always, hands clasped behind his back. But his eyes moved to Damon the moment he entered, and there was something tight in his expression. Not fear. Concern.

"young master," Thomas said with a small bow.

Damon walked past him and looked down at the desk.

The letter sat in the center of the dark wood. Cream-colored envelope. Heavy paper. A wax seal stamped with an official emblem. The seal was unbroken.

"That’s what dragged me back here?" Damon asked.

"Yes, young master."

"It came through official channels?"

"This morning. A courier delivered it directly to the estate. The sender expected it to reach the recognized heir of the Thorne family."

Damon pulled off his jacket and dropped it over the back of a chair. He sat down behind the desk and picked up the envelope.

"Then let’s see what my dead father left behind."

He broke the seal.

Inside was a single document bearing the committee’s letterhead. Damon skimmed the formal opening until a name caught his attention.

Vivian Ashford.

He read the relevant passage twice.

His parents had arranged an engagement between the Thorne and Ashford families. Now that his identity as the surviving Thorne heir had been restored, the Ashfords had initiated the formal introduction.

Vivian would arrive at Blackstone Manor in seven days.

Damon lowered the letter.

"My fiancée?"

His parents had been dead for four years, yet their arrangement had just walked into his life on paper.

He leaned back, a faint smile forming.

"That’s an interesting surprise."

Not the arrangement itself. Families made deals like this all the time. He understood that. What caught him was the timing.

A woman he had never met was now scheduled to walk into his home carrying a title that suggested intimacy he had never given her.

Fiancée. The word implied closeness. Possession. A claim.

He didn’t like claims he hadn’t made himself.

But he also didn’t hate the idea.

Damon called Thomas back.

"Did you know about this?"

"No, Young Master. I knew the family maintained private agreements, but I wasn’t informed of this one. The document bears your parents’ seals."

"Can I ignore it?"

"The letter doesn’t compel you to marry Miss Ashford. It requests a formal meeting between the two families."

"So she’s coming to meet the man her family promised her to."

"That appears to be the intention."

Damon gave a short, amused smile. "Then we’ll meet."

He handed Thomas the letter.

"Prepare the guest suite and have the east wing cleaned before she arrives."

"Of course, Young Master."

Thomas bowed and left.

Damon sat alone in the study.

The room was quiet. Warm afternoon light came through the tall windows and stretched across the floor. He looked down at Vivian’s name on the paper.

A woman he had never met was scheduled to walk into his home and stand beside him as his fiancée.

His first reaction wasn’t romance.

It was curiosity. And underneath that, something sharper. Possessiveness.

Damon looked at Vivian’s name once more.

He had no intention of letting a dead man’s promise dictate how he treated her. If Vivian expected a dutiful fiancé, she was in for a disappointment. But if she was going to enter his home and claim a place beside him, he wanted to see her for himself.

He placed the letter in his desk drawer and turned toward the window.

The estate grounds stretched out below. Green lawns. Old trees. A stone fountain that hadn’t run in years. All of it belonged to him now. The manor. The car. The money. The name.

He wasn’t the powerless young man anymore. The one who counted every remaining bill in a damp apartment. That life was gone.

But he hadn’t forgotten what he really was.

The weak body he inherited was changing. His demonic essence was returning. And he intended to keep growing stronger. Vivian’s arrival was just another change approaching him. Another piece on the board.

Damon closed the drawer.

Seven days.

A faint smile touched his lips.

"Vivian Ashford. Let’s see what kind of woman you are."

Then Damon paused.

"Shit. Lily."

He’d completely forgotten about the woman he’d left sleeping in the Lamborghini.

He turned and headed outside. By the time he reached the front steps, Lily had climbed out of the car and was standing beside it, staring at Blackstone Manor.

Her mouth was slightly open.

She looked at the towering building, the long driveway, and the carefully maintained grounds before turning toward Damon.

"Damon... is this really your house?"

"Yes."

She stared at him, then back at the manor.

"Your house?"

"How many times do you want me to say it?"

Lily ignored his irritation. She walked a few steps toward the entrance, looking around as if she expected someone to tell her she wasn’t allowed inside.

"It’s enormous. You actually live here?"

"That was the idea when I bought it."

She turned sharply toward him. "Does Claire know?"

"No."

Lily’s eyes widened. "You haven’t told my sister?"

"No. Why would I?"

She fell silent for a moment, clearly trying to imagine Claire’s reaction if she discovered the truth. Then another question came to her.

"What about Eleanor? The woman from Velour. Does she know?"

"No. I haven’t told her either."

Lily slowly turned back toward the manor. Then a delighted smile spread across her face.

"Wait. So I’m the first girl you’ve brought here?"

Damon watched her expression change. She wasn’t just surprised anymore. She was pleased with herself, as though she’d stumbled upon a secret that made her more special than she’d been a few minutes ago.

"You’re certainly the first to make such a fuss over a house."

"You’re avoiding the question."

"Maybe."

"Damon!"

He let her stew for a moment before walking toward the entrance.

"Are you coming or not?"

Lily hurried after him.

The moment she stepped inside, she stopped again. Her gaze travelled over the polished floors, the high ceiling, and the grand staircase. Even her usual shameless grin faded beneath her astonishment.

Then she looked at Damon.

"If you don’t mind me asking..." She clasped her hands behind her back, suddenly wearing an expression of exaggerated innocence. "Could I live here?"

He glanced at her.

"You’re asking to move into my house after seeing it for the first time?"

"Would you blame me? Look at this place!"

"And what would you do here?"

"Keep you company." Her smile returned, playful and unashamed. "Make your life more interesting. Whatever you want, really."

He studied her for a moment.

Lily had never been particularly good at hiding what she wanted. Money, nice clothes, a comfortable life and now, apparently, a place in his home. She saw an opportunity and had no intention of pretending otherwise.

"You certainly don’t waste time."

"Why should I? Opportunities don’t wait forever."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"That’s true."

Her eyes brightened, but before she could celebrate, he continued.

"Don’t mistake that for a promise."

Her smile faltered for only a second.

"Then I’ll just have to give you a reason to make one."

He turned toward the hallway.

"Come on. I’ll show you around."

She followed immediately, barely able to contain her excitement.

He glanced back at her once.

She’d come here looking for an afternoon of shopping. Now she was already imagining herself living under his roof.

He didn’t mind the ambition. In fact, he rather liked seeing how quickly her desires surfaced when she thought something was within reach.

Whether she’d get what she wanted was another matter entirely.