Chapter Seventeen: Betrayed by Blood

Lia Morgan had never felt such a cold weight pressing down on her chest. The words from her uncle's mouth still rang in her ears, venomous and final.

"You were never meant to inherit anything. Your father made a mistake including you."

A mistake.

She blinked away the sting behind her eyes as she stood outside the crumbling facade of her childhood home. The wind blew her curls across her face, but she couldn't summon the energy to brush them away. Her phone was clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turned white.

Damien had offered to come with her when she said she needed to visit her mother. She'd declined, still unsure of where things stood between them after the chaos the media storm had unleashed. But now she wished he were here. She felt alone. Raw. Betrayed.

The door creaked open, and Mrs. Morgan peeked out. Her face crumpled when she saw Lia's expression.

"Lia? What's wrong, baby?"

Lia stepped inside and fell into her mother's arms. She hadn't cried in front of anyone in years. Not since the funeral. But now, tears poured from her eyes like they'd been waiting for this moment.

"He said Dad's will was changed. That everything's going to his sons now. That I... I'm not family."

Mrs. Morgan's hands stilled on Lia's back. Silence stretched between them.

"He forged it," her mother whispered. "Your father would never do that."

Lia pulled away. "You think so? Are you sure?"

"I know so. We'll fight this, sweetheart."

But Lia wasn't sure she had the strength. Not today.

Damien stared at the untouched coffee in front of him, jaw clenched as he listened to Ethan on the phone.

"It's worse than we thought. The leak came from someone on your board, and the press is feeding off the 'contract bride' narrative."

Damien swore under his breath. "What about Lia? Has she been contacted?"

"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You should prepare her."

"She's dealing with enough right now," Damien said, standing. His voice was harder than steel. "I'm going to see her."

Gloria appeared in the doorway. "Sir? Ms. Morgan just returned. She looks upset. Very upset."

Damien didn't wait. He strode through the house and out the front door, phone still pressed to his ear.

"I'll call you back."

His car engine roared to life.

Lia sat on the edge of her childhood bed, knees drawn to her chest. Her mother had gone to make tea, but the silence left Lia drowning in her thoughts.

Her father had always said, "Blood doesn't define loyalty, actions do."

So why did this betrayal from blood hurt more than anything?

A soft knock at the front door startled her. Mrs. Morgan called out, "It's Damien!"

She hesitated, brushing away the tears quickly and heading out to meet him.

Damien stood in the hallway, eyes scanning her face with a concern that nearly undid her. His voice was gentle. "You should've let me come with you."

Her bottom lip trembled. "I thought I could handle it."

"You don't have to handle anything alone, Lia. Not anymore."

And with those words, he pulled her into his arms.

The embrace was different this time, there was no tension, no uncertainty. Just warmth. Just Damien.

They sat side by side on the old couch, her head resting on his shoulder.

"It was my uncle," she said. "He manipulated the will. I'm sure of it. But he's made it look official. I don't know how to fight him."

Damien's hand found hers. "You don't have to fight alone. We'll talk to Ethan. We'll take legal action."

She looked up at him. "Why are you doing this? After everything, why are you still here?"

His thumb brushed her cheek. "Because somewhere along the way, I stopped doing this for the contract."

Silence fell.

Lia's eyes brimmed with unshed tears, not from pain this time, but from the overwhelming emotion she couldn't quite name. Gratitude. Relief. Something deeper.

Mrs. Morgan peeked in from the kitchen. "Tea's ready. You both look like you could use it."

They shared a smile.

Later that night, Lia returned to Damien's estate with him. Neither said much during the drive, but the silence was comfortable, not awkward.

Gloria greeted them at the door, eyes twinkling. "You're home just in time. I made that lemon tart you like, Ms. Morgan."

Lia smiled softly. "Thank you, Gloria. That sounds perfect."

Damien watched her with a quiet pride. There was a grace to how she held herself, even after being emotionally shattered, she never crumbled completely.

In the privacy of the upstairs lounge, Lia turned to him.

"What if this never ends? The press, the rumors, the betrayals?"

He reached out, tugging her closer until she sat on the armrest beside him.

"Then we end it ourselves. We write our own story. Not the media's. Not your uncle's. Ours."

Lia searched his eyes. "Even if it gets worse before it gets better?"

Damien's voice dropped, tender but resolute. "Especially then."

She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. In that moment, the past faded. The doubts, the contract, the fake beginnings, it all felt distant.

This... this was real.

Damien cupped her face. "I'll have Ethan start working on your case. No matter how long it takes, we'll make them answer."

"You don't owe me that."

"No," he said, brushing his lips against her temple. "But I want to.

The next morning, Lia awoke in Damien's bed, the early sunlight painting streaks across the sheets. He was already up, standing by the window with a phone to his ear.

His voice was low, commanding.

"I don't care how powerful her uncle is. If there's evidence of forgery, we'll find it. Lia trusted me; I won't let him destroy her."

Lia's heart swelled. He wasn't doing this out of guilt or obligation.

He was doing this because he cared.

Really, truly cared.

For the first time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could last beyond a contract.

And maybe love had always been waiting, quietly, behind the battles.