Damien Sterling

Chapter 3:

(Damien's POV )

Life was good.

Rich. Powerful. Untouchable.

That was me. Damien Sterling.

I had everything I wanted—money, power, women who knew the rules. No attachments, no expectations, no problems.

And then, like always, my father had to ruin it.

---

I lounged in the VIP section of Blackwood Lounge, whiskey glass in hand, a beautiful blonde draped over my arm. Her voice was soft, flirtatious, but I wasn't listening.

Because the second my phone vibrated, I knew.

My father never called unless it was bad news.

I sighed, pulling away from the blonde. "I have to take this."

She pouted. "Don't be long."

I ignored her, stepping onto the private balcony and answering the call.

"Damien," Richard Sterling's voice was sharp, commanding. "I need you home. Now."

I scoffed. "Not happening."

"It wasn't a request."

I smirked, swirling the whiskey in my glass. "I don't take orders, old man."

"You will if you want to keep your fortune."

My grip on the glass tightened. Here we go.

I exhaled slowly. "What the hell is this about?"

A pause.

Then—"You're getting married."

I froze.

The world around me blurred.

The sounds of music, laughter, the city lights stretching beyond the balcony—everything faded.

I let out a slow, disbelieving laugh. "What?"

"You heard me," Richard said, his voice like ice. "You will marry Ava Sinclair. One year. It's already been arranged."

My blood turned to fire.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" I snapped. "I'm not marrying some random woman!"

"This isn't about you, Damien," he said, voice calm but laced with steel. "It's about the company. About control. I won't have my son running around like a reckless fool while the board loses faith in our legacy."

I gritted my teeth. "So your brilliant idea is to chain me to some nobody for a year?"

"Ava Sinclair is far from a nobody," he corrected. "She has a purpose to serve."

Purpose. Like she was some tool for his business plans.

I hated him.

"You don't get to decide my life," I growled.

"Oh, but I do," Richard said smoothly. "Because if you refuse, Damien, I'll make sure you lose everything."

I stilled.

And that was the moment I knew—he'd already won.

Because Richard Sterling never made empty threats.

And if he said he'd take everything from me?

He would.

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. "Screw you."

The call ended.

I stared at my phone, rage boiling inside me.

I needed to punch something. I needed a drink. I needed—

"Damien?"

I turned.

Sophia Sterling.

My little sister stood at the balcony doors, arms crossed, concern in her green eyes.

"You look like you're about to commit murder," she said dryly.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. "Our father is an absolute bastard."

She snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

I looked at her. "He's forcing me into a damn marriage."

Sophia's eyes widened. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah." I took a long sip of whiskey. "Some girl named Ava Sinclair. No idea who the hell she is."

Sophia frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's power-hungry and controlling," I muttered. "And he knows exactly how to back me into a corner."

Sophia was silent for a moment, then sighed. "You're going to fight him, right?"

I set my glass down with a hard clink. "Damn right I am."

---

Sterling Estate –

I stormed into my father's office, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

"Tell me you're joking," I snapped.

Richard looked up from his desk, completely unfazed. "You're late."

"Tell me. You're. Joking."

He leaned back, eyes glinting with amusement. "I don't joke, Damien."

I slammed my hands onto his desk. "You had no right—"

"I had every right," he cut me off smoothly. "You are my son. This is your duty."

Duty. Like I was some pawn in his business empire.

I was seething. "You can't just force me into a marriage because it benefits you."

"Oh, but I can," Richard said. "And I already did."

I wanted to rip something apart.

Then—a soft voice behind me.

"Damien…"

I turned sharply, my rage flickering—for just a second.

My mother

Eleanor Sterling stood near the doorway, her soft, kind eyes filled with worry. She had always been gentle, loving—the only good thing about this family.

She placed a hand on my arm. "Sit down, darling. Please."

I exhaled hard, dragging a hand down my face. Damn it.

I never fought with my mother. I never could.

But this?

This was impossible.

I slumped into a chair, jaw still clenched. "You knew?"

She hesitated, then sighed. "Yes."

"Unbelievable," I muttered.

"Damien," she said softly, taking my hands. "I know you don't want this. But…" She hesitated. "Maybe it won't be as bad as you think."

I stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Ava is a good girl," she said gently. "She's been through a lot. She doesn't deserve this either."

I scoffed. "Oh, great. So now I'm supposed to play the doting husband?"

She sighed. "No. But maybe… just maybe, you can give this a chance."

Chance.

What a joke.

I turned to my father. "I won't love her. I won't even pretend."

Richard smiled coldly. "I don't need you to love her. I need you to marry her."

I pushed back from the desk, standing abruptly. "Fine. You want your damn wedding? You'll get it."

Richard raised a brow. "Good."

"But let me be clear." I met his gaze, ice for ice.

"If you think this will change me, you're dead wrong."

Then, without another word, I stormed out.

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