Chapter 2 The Awakening

• Scarlett spent the morning navigating the suffocating air of the Cross estate. The mansion was eerily quiet, the weight of its grandeur pressing down on her. Every glance from the household staff, every subtle whisper, reminded her of her place—an unwanted wife to a man who might never wake.
• After breakfast with Eleanor, Scarlett had retreated to the library, seeking refuge in the rows of books that seemed untouched. She ran her fingers over the spines, her mind restless. The house felt like a trap, its towering walls closing in on her, suffocating her with the sheer weight of its history. She had married into a legacy that wasn't hers, bound by a contract that felt more like a sentence than a union.
• Would Damien ever wake up?
• As if mocking her thoughts, her phone vibrated in her pocket. A message from her stepmother, Vanessa, flashed across the screen:
• I hope you’re settling in. Remember, if Damien dies, you lose everything.
• Scarlett’s grip tightened on the device. Vanessa had made sure she was trapped, with no chance of escape. She wanted to scream, to rip the smug satisfaction off her stepmother’s face, but what good would it do? Her father’s debts were gone, but at what cost? She had become nothing more than a pawn in Vanessa’s cruel game.
• Instead, she shut her phone off and inhaled deeply. She had to focus.
• A knock at the door made her turn. The butler, his expression unreadable as always, stepped in. “Mrs. Cross, the doctor has requested your presence in Mr. Cross’s room.”
• Scarlett’s pulse spiked. Why? Had something happened?
• She followed quickly, her heart pounding with each step up the grand staircase. The air in the hallway outside Damien’s room felt thick, charged with an energy she couldn’t place. When she stepped inside, the sight before her made her knees nearly buckle.
• Damien’s eyes were open.
• The doctor was adjusting an IV line, his hands calm despite the magnitude of what was happening. Damien’s gaze, however, was anything but calm. It was sharp, burning, and filled with something raw and unreadable. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, sending a shiver down her spine.
• “Mr. Cross, can you hear me?” the doctor asked cautiously.
• Damien’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his lips parting as if to speak. The sound that followed was rough, strained, but unmistakable.
• “Who… are you?”
• Scarlett’s breath hitched. He didn’t know her.
• Her hands clenched at her sides as the doctor quickly stepped in. “You’ve been in a coma for over a year, Mr. Cross. Your memory might be foggy. This is your wife, Scarlett Cross.”
• Damien’s gaze flickered with something—confusion, skepticism, or perhaps even anger. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her, his expression darkening.
• “My… wife?” His voice, though hoarse, carried a weight that sent chills through her.
• Scarlett nodded, forcing herself to meet his intense stare. “Yes. We were married while you were… unconscious.”
• Silence hung between them, thick and suffocating. Then, suddenly, Damien let out a sharp, bitter laugh that made Scarlett’s stomach twist.
• “Married?” he echoed, his voice laced with venom. His eyes burned into hers, his jaw tightening. “Who the hell made that decision for me?”
• Scarlett swallowed hard, forcing down the lump forming in her throat. “Your grandmother,” she admitted. “She—she wanted to ensure you had a wife when you woke up.”
• Damien’s expression darkened further. “Of course she did.”
• The doctor quickly interjected. “Mr. Cross, you should take it easy. Your body is still recovering.”
• But Damien wasn’t listening. He was still staring at Scarlett, his eyes unreadable, yet filled with something dangerous. Scarlett felt exposed, as if he were stripping away every layer of her carefully maintained composure with nothing but his gaze.
• “Do we have children?” he suddenly asked, his voice sharp.
• Scarlett froze, her breath caught in her chest. Memories of her secret—of the twins she had hidden away for four years—flashed through her mind.
• She forced herself to remain still, to keep her expression neutral. “No,” she lied, her voice steady.
• Damien tilted his head slightly, watching her as if he sensed something wasn’t right. A slow, knowing smirk formed on his lips, and for a brief second, Scarlett felt like prey trapped under a predator’s gaze.
• “I see,” he murmured, his voice low. “Then I suppose we have nothing to talk about.”
• Scarlett’s heart pounded, but she said nothing.
• The doctor checked Damien’s vitals once more before addressing Scarlett. “He needs rest. We should let him regain his strength before overwhelming him with details.”
• Scarlett nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse to leave. Without another word, she turned and walked out, her mind racing.
• As soon as she was out of the room, she exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her chest. Damien Cross had awakened, and he was nothing like she had imagined. He was cold, intense, and calculating.
• And worst of all, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her.
• Later that night, Scarlett lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The mansion was silent, but her mind was anything but.
• Damien was awake.
• How long before he started digging into the details of their so-called marriage? How long before he discovered the truth?
• Her phone buzzed beside her, the screen lighting up with a notification. A single message appeared, and the moment she read it, a chill ran down her spine.
• “Come and see me. Now.” - Damien
• Scarlett’s fingers hovered over the phone. She could ignore it, pretend she was asleep. But something told her that ignoring Damien Cross would be a dangerous mistake.
• Swallowing her nerves, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent against the cold floor. The long hallway stretched before her, every step toward his room feeling heavier than the last.
• When she reached his door, she hesitated. Her fingers curled around the handle as she took a steadying breath before pushing it open.
• Inside, Damien was sitting up in bed, his sharp eyes already locked onto hers. His expression was unreadable, but the intensity in his gaze sent her pulse racing.
• “You didn’t think I’d just accept this marriage without asking questions, did you?” He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
• Scarlett’s fingers tightened on the doorframe. “What do you want to know?”
• Damien’s lips curved into a smirk, but there was no amusement in it. “Everything.”
• A shiver ran down her spine.
• Damien Cross had woken up, and Scarlett knew one thing for certain—her nightmare was only beginning.