Chapter 354: If Another Fiancé Comes to This Door, Someone Is Dying

"But our families won’t take this quietly," she added. "My parents will be furious, and I doubt yours will suddenly discover a passion for respecting personal boundaries!"

"That is why I’ve already begun making arrangements."

He reached for the folder beside him, which I hadn’t noticed earlier, and placed it on the table.

"First, our lawyers are preparing the documents to formally dissolve the understanding between our families. Your legal representatives will review every clause, and no agreement will be finalized without your approval. I won’t leave you financially or legally exposed simply because our parents made promises on our behalf."

Isabella opened the folder and examined the documents, her expression becoming more attentive as she read.

"Second, we’ll release a joint public statement confirming that we’ve mutually decided not to proceed with the proposed marriage. It won’t assign blame or discuss private matters, and it won’t involve Oliver. I want this handled with as little unnecessary humiliation for you as possible."

She looked up at him. "You...you would do that?"

"Of course. You didn’t create this arrangement alone, and you shouldn’t have to bear the consequences alone."

Something in her expression softened, although she quickly returned her attention to the papers.

"Third," Damien continued, "I’ll inform my parents myself. My personal life is no longer open to negotiation, and any attempt to interfere with Oliver or use his father as leverage will be met with the full weight of my authority as CEO. Legal protections and security measures are already in place."

I felt his hand brush mine again, and when I looked at him, I understood that he wasn’t merely making a promise to Isabella.

He was reminding himself, as much as anyone else, that he would never allow our relationship to become a bargaining chip again.

"And you won’t tell the press who Oliver is?" Isabella asked.

"Not right now."

Her eyes moved towards me, taking in my face as though she were seeing me differently for the first time that evening.

I had expected her to be furious about his decision, perhaps even offended that he was protecting me so carefully, but instead she seemed to understand something that had been missing from every conversation she had ever had with him.

Damien wasn’t replacing her with me.

He had never wanted her in the first place.

After studying the documents for another moment, Isabella closed the folder and nodded.

"Fine, I’ll instruct my lawyers to contact yours tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t told my parents, and I’m sure that conversation will be an absolute nightmare."

"Then I recommend having it somewhere with comfortable chairs and a reliable supply of alcohol," I offered. "Preferably somewhere you can leave without having to explain yourself to a security guard."

She looked at me, and a genuine smile finally appeared on her face.

"You’re a strange man, Oliver Reyes."

Isabella pushed her chair back and rose, smoothing her dress and hair before reaching for her handbag.

She had barely touched her dinner, but I couldn’t blame her; there were only so many things a person could digest in one evening, and apparently an entire failed engagement was not among them.

She looked at Damien first. "I hope you know what you’re doing."

"I do."

It was such a simple answer that I found myself looking at him, my chest tightening with the quiet sincerity behind it.

Isabella then turned towards me, and for a moment, the actress’s polished expression slipped entirely, leaving a young woman who looked tired, disappointed, and perhaps a little relieved that she no longer had to keep pretending she was excited about marrying a man who barely looked at her.

"You two look good together," she said. "Better than Damien and I ever would have."

I opened my mouth, unsure whether to apologize again or offer her some reassurance, but she raised a hand before I could speak.

"Don’t...even. I don’t want you apologizing and making me feel even more like crap."

I closed my mouth.

"You’re allowed to love him," she continued, her voice quieter now. "I think I just needed to see it for myself before I could accept that I was never going to be the person he wanted."

I stood and walked with her towards the entrance, where she slipped her coat over her shoulders and checked that she had everything in her handbag.

"Isabella," I said before she reached the door. "I know this probably doesn’t help much right now, but...your life is still yours. You don’t have to spend it trying to become the person your family thinks you should marry or the woman they believe will look best beside someone else’s name."

She watched me silently.

"Standing up to your family is difficult, I know," I continued, "especially when they’ve spent years convincing you that their expectations are the same thing as your happiness. But you’re allowed to want something different, and you’re allowed to choose someone who actually chooses you back. You deserve that much."

For a moment, she looked genuinely startled, as though she hadn’t expected kindness from the man she had arrived prepared to despise.

Then she smiled, and although there was still sadness in her eyes, the expression was gentler than anything I had seen from her since she rang the doorbell.

"You’re a good guy, Oliver."

I went speechless. "...Oh."

She laughed, shook her head, and stepped into the hallway.

"Goodnight, Oliver. Damien."

"Goodnight, Isabella," Damien replied.

I watched her walk towards the elevator, carrying herself with considerably more dignity than she had possessed when she first arrived, and waited until the doors closed before shutting ours.

The penthouse fell silent around us.

I stood with my hand on the door for a moment, staring at the polished surface as though it might offer an explanation for the evening I had just survived.

"Well," I said eventually, turning towards Damien, "that was really uncomfortable, please don’t make me do that again."

His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he approached me with an expression that held more regret than I had expected.

"I’m sorry I put you through that."

I leaned against him when he drew me closer, allowing his arms to settle around my waist as I rested my forehead briefly against his chest.

"You didn’t arrange the marriage, and you didn’t invite her here to humiliate me. Besides, I think I handled myself rather well, considering I was forced to host an emotional intervention over roasted chicken."

His quiet laugh rumbled against my cheek, but the amusement faded when he looked down at me.

"Are you sure you’re all right?"

"I’m fine. I felt sorry for her, actually." I paused, thinking about the way Isabella had looked at the two of us across the dining table. "She was hurt, and I don’t think she deserved to be misled by her family. But I also don’t think you should have married her just to make everyone else comfortable."

"I would never have done that."

"I know. I just wanted to hear you say it."

His arms tightened around me, and he pressed a kiss to my lips, lingering there for a moment before resting his cheek against my hair.

"I’m prepared for the consequences," he murmured. "My parents will be furious, and the press may make this more complicated than it needs to be, but I spent my whole life allowing my family to decide what I was permitted to have. I will not do it again, Oliver. Not with you."

I closed my eyes, letting the familiar warmth of him settle the last of the tension beneath my ribs.

For so long, loving Damien had meant worrying about what might be taken away from us, about the people who believed our happiness was a problem they had the right to solve.

Hearing him speak so firmly about our future didn’t erase the past, but it made the future feel less like something we had to beg permission to keep.

I lifted my head and looked at him.

"Good, because if another woman appears at our door expecting to marry you, I will commit murder."

Damien stared at me for a moment before laughing properly, the sound warm and unrestrained as he pulled me closer.

"Noted, Sunshine."

He kissed my forehead again, smiling against my skin, and I wrapped my arms around him, content to remain there for a while as the city lights glittered beyond the windows.

The arrangement was over, the first difficult conversation had been survived, and one more door had finally closed on the people who had once believed they could decide what our lives should look like.

For tonight, that was enough.