Chapter 224: The Devil’s Woman Is Not A Fragile Girl

The TV screen continued to broadcast Vivian Stark’s serene, triumphant face to the media swarm, but the air inside Jullian’s penthouse had already turned into a battlefield.

?Ana stared at Damian standing in the foyer, flanked by Henry and three armed guards.

?The initial shock of his sudden arrival barely lasted two seconds before the familiar, bitter sting of his methods took over.

?Of course he bypassed the codes.

Of course he brought an armed perimeter without asking.

?It wasn’t as if Damian Sterling had ever respected a boundary in his entire life.

?Ana set her trembling mug down onto the marble counter with a sharp, hollow thud. She pushed off the couch, her bare feet hitting the cold floor as she stepped into the center of the room, her gaze blazing.

?"You knew," Ana said, her voice shaking not with fear, but with sheer, hot fury.

?Damian signaled Henry to remain by the elevator doors, taking measured, deliberate strides toward her. His dark overcoat hung open, his expression completely unreadable, carved out of hardened granite.

?"Anastasia..."

?"The call at one in the morning," Ana interrupted, her hazel eyes slicing through him. "You asking if I was safe. Valerie magically shows up an hour later with a bag full of distractions. You knew she was being released last night, didn’t you? You knew, and you kept it from me!"

?Damian stopped three paces away, looking down at her with infuriating, unflinching calm.

?"And what would telling you have changed?" Damian retorted, his deep baritone flat and cold. "You would have spent the night pacing the floor, terrified, waiting for a phantom at the window. What purpose would that have served?"

?"It would have given me the truth!" Ana fired back, taking a furious step into his personal space. "It would have given me the choice to know what kind of world I was waking up to!"

?"It isn’t your burden to carry," Damian snapped, a vein pulsing in his jaw as his stoic mask cracked just enough to let his lethal arrogance bleed through. "Vivian Stark is my mess to clean. Not yours. She attacked my logistics line, she manipulated my family for years, and she tried to touch what belongs in my house. You do not need to concern yourself with the mechanics of how I dismantle her."

?"What belongs in your house?!"

Ana gasped, a bitter, disbelieving laugh tearing from her throat.She threw her hands up, gesturing to the heavy armed detail lingering in the foyer.

"You’re right about that! Vivian is indeed brought to our lives because of you! So why the hell are you here Damian? Did you march in at dawn to haul me away? To drag me back to your glass cage and lock the deadbolts so you can pretend keeping me captive keeps me safe?!"

?"Anastasia, lower your voice," Damian warned, his dark eyes flashing dangerously as his broad chest heaved. "I am just simply keeping you breathing."

?"You’re suffocating me!"

?"Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop it! Both of you!"

?Valerie’s voice cut through the shouting like a whip. She leaped off the armchair, throwing herself directly between the two towering forces, shoving her hands against both their chests to force an inch of space between them.

?"Take a breath! Right now!" Valerie commanded, glaring from Damian’s thunderous scowl to Ana’s blazing glare. "Are you two actually out of your minds? You both nearly died on a harbor dock months ago saving one another! You love each other so much you can barely function without burning the city down, and yet you’re screaming at each other before eight in the morning!"

?Damian’s jaw twitched, his eyes darkening at his sister’s blunt words because was there any love? Ana’s breath hitched, a faint, furious blush rising on her neck, though she stubbornly refused to look away from him. She knows... there’s no love.

?"Furthermore," Valerie added, lowering her arms with an exasperated huff as she gestured wildly to the pristine smoked glass and slate around them, "you are in someone else’s house! Have some manners! If you’re going to have a marital breakdown over an ex-convict, do it on your own square footage!"

?The penthouse went dead quiet.

?Over by the window, Clara let out a breathless, muffled snort into her hands, the sheer absurdity of Valerie playing the responsible matriarch cutting clean through the lingering panic.

?Ding.

?The elevator chimed again.

?The metal doors parted, and Jullian Montgomery strolled into the foyer, balancing two massive brown cardboard trays loaded with steaming coffee cups, fresh croissants, and paper bags of gourmet bagels.

?He took one look at the heavily armed Sterling detail standing in his hallway, then looked past them into the living room... Damian looked ready to murder the world, Ana glaring daggers, Valerie standing between them like a referee, and Clara perched on the couch looking thoroughly amused.

?Jullian paused in the doorway, arching a single, roguish eyebrow.

?"Well," Jullian drawled, holding up a paper bag with a lazy grin. "I brought breakfast. Who wants ’an everything bagel’ before the civil war officially begins?"

?Jullian dropped the heavy cardboard trays onto the massive marble island with a loud clatter.

?"If anyone ruins this pastry spread with blood or dramatic divorce monologues, I’m billing you treble damages," Jullian announced, sliding a lox bagel toward Clara. He cast a pointed glance toward the sentries in the foyer. "And tell your muscle men to stop scuffing my entryway slate, Sterling. Some of us actually value interior aesthetics."

?Damian didn’t look at the food. His jaw remained clenched, but the blistering fury in his eyes receded into a rigid, controlled chill. He signaled Henry, who quietly waved the armed men back toward the outer hallway before stepping into the kitchen corner.

?Valerie immediately snatched an almond croissant, leaning back against the island with an exaggerated sigh. "Thank god for carbs. Being the only adult in this family is exhausting."

?Ana ignored Valerie’s quip, leaning over the counter to take a hot cup of black coffee. She took a slow sip, letting the heat steady her nerves. When she lowered the cup, her hazel eyes met Damian’s across the island.

?"I’m not going back to your penthouse like a helpless fragile girl, Damian," Ana stated, her tone quiet, even, and thoroughly immovable. "And I’m not staying locked in there, either. I’m going into the office and I’ll live my life by going out."