Chapter Seven: Exes and Enemies

The buzz of the doorbell felt like a disruption, even before Gloria opened the front door. Lia had just set a book on the coffee table and curled up with a mug of chamomile tea when the housekeeper's voice called out...

"Mr. Cross, there's a Ms. Vanessa Hart to see you."

Lia froze.

It was the name. The name that had lived like an unwanted shadow in the corner of their faux marriage.

Damien stepped into the hallway, his brow creasing as if bracing for a punch. "Let her in."

Lia set the mug down with exaggerated calm. She remained on the couch, pulling the blanket higher as if shielding herself from what was coming. When Vanessa walked in, the air shifted.

Tall, statuesque, draped in confidence and high-end perfume, Vanessa Hart was everything Lia wasn't trying to be. Her red coat hugged her curves, her hair styled to glossy perfection. Her eyes swept over the living room, finally landing on Lia with just enough pause to say oh, it's you.

"Well, well," Vanessa said with a smile that didn't touch her eyes. "Playing house suits you, Damien."

Damien didn't smile. "Why are you here, Vanessa?"

Lia was silent, but her fingers tightened on the blanket.

Vanessa tilted her head. "You haven't returned my calls. Or my emails. Or the legal draft I sent over."

"Because I'm not interested."

"That's not how business works, darling. You don't get to ghost me just because you're faking a marriage."

Lia stood now, calm and composed. "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, you can see yourself out."

Vanessa's gaze flicked back and forth between them. "I see. So she speaks now."

Damien stepped in front of Lia, shielding her slightly. "This isn't a negotiation. Leave."

"Oh, but it is."

She opened her purse and pulled out a folder, tossing it onto the coffee table like a weapon. Damien picked it up but didn't open it.

"You should read that," Vanessa said coolly. "Before you keep building castles with cardboard queens."

And just like that, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heels clicking like punctuation marks of victory.

Silence settled again. Lia crossed her arms. "What was that about?"

Damien didn't answer immediately. Instead, he opened the folder. His eyes scanned the top page before he let out a low breath.

"She's threatening to leak personal information from the merger we canceled last year. Says I breached confidentiality when I walked away."

"Is that true?"

"No," he said sharply. "She's bluffing. But she's dangerous. And now she's back."

Lia felt something simmer inside her. "Was it ever serious? You and her?"

Damien looked at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her voice.

"It was never real. Not in the way it should have been. She wanted power, control. I thought I needed someone like her. But it was a disaster."

Lia nodded slowly. "So why is she still trying to crawl back into your life?"

He smirked. "Because I stopped caring."

Later that evening, Ethan dropped by at Damien's request. The folder sat between them as they dissected every page.

"She has nothing substantial," Ethan concluded. "Empty threats. But she's trying to rattle you."

Damien glanced toward the stairs, where Lia had gone to escape the tense atmosphere. "It's working."

Ethan leaned forward. "Not because of her. Because you care what Lia thinks."

Damien didn't deny it.

Lia stood at the balcony, arms crossed, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. She barely heard Damien step behind her until his jacket draped over her shoulders.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

"Sure. Just trying to figure out how I ended up in a love triangle I never asked for."

He chuckled, but it was hollow. "It's not a triangle. Vanessa and I... we ended years ago. Even if she refuses to accept it."

"But she still knows how to get under your skin."

"Not like you do."

She turned slightly, meeting his eyes. "Was that a compliment or a confession?"

"Maybe both."

The night air cooled the moment, but something electric lingered.

Lia took a breath. "I don't want to be used to make anyone jealous. I've done enough pretending."

Damien stepped closer. "Then don't pretend. Just be here. With me."

The moment hovered, ripe with possibility, but also fear.

Days passed. Vanessa's threats continued in emails and calls, which Damien ignored. But Lia noticed the way he tightened his grip on his phone or sighed more often than before.

Gloria picked up on it too.

"He gets quiet when he's hurt," the housekeeper told Lia one morning in the kitchen. "Never asks for help. But you're good for him, you know. Brings the man out of the machine."

Lia smiled faintly. "I'm not sure he sees it that way."

Gloria gave her a knowing look. "He does. He's just terrified."

When the next email came from Vanessa, it wasn't a threat, it was an invitation. A charity gala.

"She wants to prove something," Damien muttered, holding the invite like it was a ticking bomb.

Lia read it. "Then let's give her a show."

He looked at her, surprised. "You want to go?"

She met his gaze, fierce. "I want to remind her that you're not hers to claim.

The night of the gala, Lia wore a deep emerald gown that shimmered with every step. Damien, in a sleek black suit, couldn't take his eyes off her.

"You clean up nice," she said, lips curling.

"You always look like this in my dreams."

They walked in arm in arm, cameras flashing, eyes following.

Vanessa was already there, laughing with a group of executives until she spotted them.

Her smile faltered for just a second.

Lia leaned in close to Damien. "Let's dance."

He didn't hesitate.

As they moved together under the soft chandelier lights, it wasn't just performance anymore. The way Damien held her, the way their bodies fit, it was natural. Honest. Unscripted.

Vanessa watched from afar, face unreadable. But Lia didn't care.

For the first time, she wasn't playing a part.

And neither was he.