Chapter 10 - His family

The tension in the air was palpable as Irene Miller stood before Damien Callum's family, their disapproving stares burning into her like searing daggers.

From the moment she had entered their lives, Irene had been met with hostility and disdain, her presence seen as a threat to the sanctity of the Callum name.

"You have no place here," Margaret Callum, Damien's mother, spat out, her voice dripping with venom. "You're nothing but a gold digger—a woman of no substance or worth."

Irene felt her cheeks flush with indignation, her hands trembling with suppressed anger. "I assure you, Mrs. Callum, my intentions are pure. I love your son with all my heart, and I will do whatever it takes to prove myself worthy of his love."

But Margaret's eyes narrowed in disgust, her lips curling into a sneer of contempt. "Love?" she scoffed. "You know nothing of love. You're just a pretty face with a hidden agenda, and I won't stand by and watch you destroy my son's future."

Irene's jaw clenched with frustration, her patience wearing thin in the face of Margaret's relentless attacks.

"With all due respect, Mrs. Callum, my background may not be as illustrious as yours, but I am not the enemy here. I only want what's best for Damien—and if that means earning your acceptance, then so be it."

But Margaret was unmoved, her eyes cold and unyielding. "You will never be good enough for Damien, no matter how hard you try. You're nothing but a stain on our family's reputation, and I won't rest until you're out of our lives for good."

Irene felt a surge of anger rise within her chest, her fists clenching with frustration.

But before she could respond, Damien stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"That's enough, Mother," he said, his tone firm and commanding. "I won't tolerate any more insults directed at my wife. Irene may not have been born into our world, but she is my choice, and I expect you to treat her with the respect she deserves."

Margaret's eyes widened in shock at her son's unexpected defense of Irene, but before she could protest, Damien continued, his gaze unwavering.

"Irene is my wife, and she is here to stay. If you can't accept that, then perhaps it's time for you to leave."

Damien tells Irene the only reason he defined her was because he did not want to look weak in front of his family. Not because he loves her.

Irene smiles bitterly to herself.

As Irene stood before Damien, her heart heavy with the weight of his words, she felt a bitter smile tug at the corners of her lips. His confession hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating her with its cruel honesty.

"So, that's it, then?" she murmured, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I was nothing more than a pawn in your game—a means to an end to preserve your precious image."

Damien's expression remained impassive, his eyes betraying no hint of remorse. "I never claimed otherwise, Irene," he replied coolly. "You knew what you were getting into when you married me."

Irene's laughter was hollow, devoid of any true mirth. "Yes, I suppose I did," she conceded, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that there was more to our marriage than just appearances."

Damien's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something akin to regret flashing in his eyes. "Irene, you must understand—"

But she held up a hand, cutting him off with a bitter laugh. "Save your excuses, Damien. I've heard them all before."

Turning away, Irene walked to the window, her gaze fixed on the city skyline glittering in the distance.

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, the weight of their unspoken truths pressing down upon them like a leaden blanket.

And as Irene looked out at the world beyond, she knew that she could no longer deny the painful reality of her situation.

She had been a fool to believe that Damien's love was anything more than an illusion—a mirage in the desert of her loneliness.

And now, as she stood alone in the cold emptiness of their marriage, she realized that she had only herself to blame for her shattered dreams.

With a resigned sigh, Irene turned back to face Damien, her smile bitter but defiant. "Well, congratulations, Damien," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her. "You got what you wanted. You won."

Lost in though. Damien believes, this is another one of her schemes. So, he walks away. Leaving Irene alone, in the cold empty house.