Page 183 of My Ruthless Husband

The two weeks that followed in Greece were hectic. Damian was practically living in his office. He was occupied with meetings and obligations that seemed to swallow all his time.

We already had this weird tension between us since the night he admitted feeling guilty for wanting and marrying me. With him always busy, we barely had a chance to talk.

Even though we hadn’t talked or worked things out, I kept my thoughts in check and refused to let myself overthink or worry too much. I didn’t let my mind run wild with the doubts I knew were lurking, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Instead, I clung to the part where he said that he never cheated on me and he never would. And that he wants only me, respects and values my feelings and our marriage.

Once Damian was finally free, he decided to extend our stay for another week so we could explore Athens together. It felt like his way of giving us a chance to work things out, and somehow, that week mended everything between us.

“Aren’t you happy?”

I blink, then nod, feeling a small smile tugging at my lips. “I am,” I say, and it feels entirely true. Iamhappy.

Damian may not trust me with his secrets yet, but over the past two months, he’s shown me that he wants me. Really wants me in his life. He had his reasons for staying distant all this time, and while he hasn’t shared them, I’m willing to wait. I’m willing to wait for the day he trusts me enough to open up. These months have rekindled a spark of hope in me, and now, I’m ready to fight for us.

She watches me carefully, a glint of warmth in her gaze. “I don’t know much about your marriage,” she says. “When I was first hired, you were… different. Sad, maybe. There was this heaviness around you, like you were carrying the weight of the world alone.” She hesitates, then adds, “Honestly, I thought Mr. Montgomery didn’t care for you, not the way he should. But watching you both for the past two months… it’s changed my mind.”

“And mine,” I agree, more to myself than her. I no longer have doubts—not in the way I used to.

Vicky grins, breaking the serious moment. “As for me,” she declares with a playful lilt, “I’m in love with Paris.”

The change in topic pulls a laugh from me, and I shake my head. Paris—my favorite city, my dream destination. Damian had whisked me there after Athens just because he could.

A few months ago, I was there on the run, convinced he’d never find me, never understand why I left. Now, I can hardly think about the streets of Paris without picturing him beside me.

“How did you even find my rings after I tossed them in the trash at the airport?” I’d asked him one evening as we walked along the Seine.

“Your rings had trackers.”

“What?” I stopped, holding up my hand, examining the rings as if I could see the tiny devices hidden inside.

“Relax, those rings are new.”

When I looked at him, still confused, he added, “Do you really think I’d let my wife wear rings she threw in the trash?”

“But those were worth—”

“Millions, yes.” His fingers brushed against my cheek, his touch achingly gentle. “Which is nothing compared to you. I had them retrieved so I could have them remade exactly the same.”

I touched the huge diamond and the band, amazed. “So… these don’t have trackers?”

“No.”

I was just starting to smile when he added, “But it’s in the necklace.”

I gasped, my hand flying to my throat.

“And in those studs,” he continued, laughing at the horror in my eyes. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close as we resumed our walk.

He never did clarify if he was joking, and knowing Damian, I doubt he was.

When I joked about putting a tracker in his wedding band, he just smiled and said, “Sure. I’ll get it done.”

I forgot all about it until he mentioned it again two days ago, telling me it was done, shocking me.

I turn back to Vicky, smiling. “Can you believe we were gone for nearly two months?”

She shakes her head. “Thanks to you and Mr. Montgomery, even I got to travel around the world,” she says, her voice brimming with gratitude. “I never dreamed I’d see any of those places—Scotland, London, New Zealand, Greece and Paris… It was like living in a dream.”

I smile. “It all feels like a dream, doesn’t it?” Then it falters when I ask, “Anything from Matt?”

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