THE RULES OF WAR AND WIFE

Damian’s POV

Marrying Althea Ramirez was never part of the plan.

Destroying her family’s company? Yes. Taking back everything they stole from my father? Absolutely. But standing beside her at the altar, watching her flinch when I touched her hand—that wasn’t revenge. That was something far more dangerous.

She hated me with every breath she took. I didn’t blame her. I hated me, too.

The moment she stepped into my house—the house that would now be ours—wearing that diamond-white dress like it was armor, I knew I had signed a deal with the devil. Except the devil had fire in her eyes and lips I’d never forget.

I watched her from across the room now. She stood like a statue in front of the lawyer, her spine straight, her voice calm, her eyes empty. That was her way of showing strength—by pretending she didn’t feel anything at all.

The contract lay between us. Five pages of lies and legal promises. No escape clause. No love required.

Only this: live together for one year, appear as a real couple, and protect both our companies from collapse.

It was clever. Clean. Cruel.

“I want three conditions,” Althea said, breaking the silence.

The lawyer blinked. “Excuse me?”

She looked at me, her voice sharper than glass. “One: we sleep in separate rooms. Two: no public displays of affection unless absolutely necessary. And three: I keep my job. I don’t care what your family says.”

I smirked. “So we’re starting with a list of demands. Classic Ramirez move.”

She crossed her arms. “Do you agree or not?”

I leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I’ll agree—if you follow one rule.”

She hesitated. “What rule?”

“No lies. If we’re doing this, I want honesty. No secrets between us, Althea. Not even the ones that hurt.”

Her jaw tensed. “Fine.”

The lawyer, clearly uncomfortable with the tension, cleared his throat and slid the pen across the table. “If you both agree, please sign.”

Althea signed without a word. I followed.

Just like that, it was done. We were no longer enemies. We were something worse.

We were husband and wife.

Later that night, the silence in the mansion was heavier than ever. I stood in the hallway between our rooms, staring at her door like it held answers I didn’t know I was searching for.

I knocked.

A few seconds passed. Then the door opened just wide enough for her to look out. She had removed her makeup, her face bare and tired, but still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I need to tell you something.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she stepped aside. I walked in, noting the untouched bed, the unopened suitcase. She hadn’t unpacked. She hadn’t even accepted this as real yet.

“I wasn’t lying about what I said earlier,” I said quietly. “Someone is targeting you.”

“Because of you,” she replied.

I nodded. “Yes. And if I could erase what happened between our families, I would. But we don’t have that luxury.”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you think they’ll come after me again?”

I hesitated. “Yes. And not just you. Your father. Your company. Mine. Someone wants us to fall.”

Her voice cracked just slightly. “Then why force us into this marriage? Why make it worse?”

“Because the enemy doesn’t want peace. They want chaos. And you and I, Althea—we’re the only ones standing between them and total control.”

Her eyes met mine. For the first time, I saw a flicker of something there. Not hate. Not anger.

Fear.

But also… trust.

Tiny. Fragile. But there.

I didn’t move closer. I knew better than to push her. But I needed her to understand this wasn’t just politics or power anymore.

“This isn’t just a marriage,” I said. “It’s a war.”

She held my gaze. “Then let’s make one thing clear, Damian. I didn’t choose this. But if I’m going to fight in it… I’m not losing.”

I smiled, not out of amusement, but admiration.

“Good,” I said softly. “Because neither am I.”

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