Damien Sterling

Chapter 11: The Moment She Walked In

(Damien's POV )

I had been to hundreds of events like this.

Lavish parties. Boring speeches. Empty conversations with people who only cared about money and power.

And tonight was no different.

Except for one thing.

Her.

---

Getting Ready –

I adjusted the cuffs of my suit, staring at my reflection with mild disinterest.

Black-on-black. Sharp, tailored, expensive.

It was impeccable, perfect. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to care.

Sophia leaned against the doorway, watching me with a smirk. "You look like you're preparing for a funeral."

I exhaled slowly. "Might as well be."

She grinned. "Aw, come on. It won't be that bad. You'll smile for the cameras, kiss your fake fiancée's hand, and then drown yourself in whiskey until it's over."

I shot her a dry look. "Thanks for the encouragement."

She laughed, then tilted her head slightly. "Speaking of which… do you think she'll actually go through with it?"

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Sophia shrugged. "Ava. She's not exactly the obedient type."

I smirked. "That's an understatement."

But… she wouldn't run.

She couldn't.

Not with her family's future on the line.

And yet—something about this didn't sit right with me.

I clenched my jaw, pushing the thought away. "She'll show."

Sophia studied me for a moment, then smirked. "And when she does, you better hope you can handle it."

I scoffed. "Handle what?"

Her grin widened. "You'll see."

---

The Hall --

The grand ballroom was packed.

Elegant gowns, expensive suits, fake smiles. The elite of high society had all gathered to witness the Sterling heir's engagement.

I stood near the front, waiting.

Waiting for the moment this circus officially began.

Conversations buzzed around me.

— "Did you hear? He's marrying some nobody?"

— "Ava Sinclair, right? No connections. No real wealth. Wonder what she did to get this deal."

— "I bet it won't last a year."

I ignored them.

I was used to whispers.

What I wasn't used to… was anticipation.

Because no matter how much I told myself I didn't care—

I was waiting for her.

And then—

Silence.

A sharp, sudden stillness spread through the hall.

Like the entire room had forgotten how to breathe.

And when I turned—

I understood why.

---

The Woman Who Stole the Room

She stood at the top of the grand staircase, a fucking vision.

Dressed in black silk that clung to every dangerous curve. The slit in her gown revealed just enough to drive a man insane, but it was the way she carried herself that made the world stop.

Confident. Unbothered. Untouchable.

Like she had never belonged to anyone and never would.

Her lips were painted red.

Not soft. Not sweet.

Bold. Defiant. A warning.

And her eyes—those damn eyes.

Sharp, wicked, daring me to say something.

I clenched my fists, something dark and unrecognizable curling in my chest.

Because for the first time in my life—

I was speechless.

And judging by the stunned expressions around the room, so was everyone else.

A slow, almost amused smirk played on her lips as she descended the staircase.

Like she knew exactly what kind of chaos she had just caused.

Like she had done it on purpose.

I exhaled sharply.

This was going to be a problem.

Because I had agreed to a business deal. A contract. A one-year arrangement.

But this?

This felt dangerous.

And I had no idea if I wanted to destroy her… or ruin myself trying.

---