Page 194 of My Ruthless Husband

My gaze flicks to Damian, expecting him to be just as confused but what I find on his face chills me.

His expression, so often steely and unreadable, is now disturbingly solemn. His jaw tightens, the warmth I know in his face eclipsed by a guarded tension, as if every muscle in his body is fighting to remain composed. His hand hangs still at his side, fingers curled into a tight fist.

I glance back at Summer, and she’s visibly struggling, one hand pressed against her mouth as though she’s physically holding back her emotions.

Archer, frowning at Damian furiously, immediately steadies her with a protective arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, though her gaze remains transfixed on Damian.

A tear slips free, and she lets it fall, ruining her makeup.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Archer asks, his voice full of worry, glancing from her to Damian, then back again. But she doesn’t respond, stunned as if she’s just seen a ghost.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice shaking with tension, unsure of what to make of all this. My heart sinking with every second as I watch my best friend and my husband stare at each other.

Damian finally opens his mouth, voice rough. “Summer…”

But before he can get another word out, a fist collides with his jaw out of nowhere, snapping his head to the side. A man in a leather jacket with intense, blue eyes flashing with fury comes into view.

“Raleigh!” Summer cries, trying to reach him, but Raleigh’s eyes are locked on Damian, blazing with anger.

Hal lunges forward, ready to give it back but Damian holds out a hand, stopping him. For some reason that pisses off Raleigh more, with his fist clenched, he steps forward for another swing.

“Stop!” I yell, rushing forward without thinking. Shoving him back with all the force I can muster, I shout, “How dare you lay a hand on my husband!”

Damian grabs me with an arm over my chest from behind to pull me back but I dig my heels in, ready to bash this man’s head if need be.

Raleigh’s face tightens, but before he can respond, a woman steps between us, her posture defensive. She’s striking, with chin-length hair and stormy gray eyes that cut through me as she invades my personal space. “Don’t touch my husband,” she says coldly, her gaze like steel as it meets mine.

“Hannah, please!” Summer’s voice reaches us but no one reacts.

“Your husband?” I echo, incredulous. “Your husband thinks he can just attack mine?” I match her glare, my voice hard.

Her lips pull into a humorless smile. “Your husband looks more than capable of defending himself.”

“So does yours!”

“Fuck this shit.” Raleigh spits out, spinning on his heel and storming off, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

“Who the hell are you?” Hannah glares at my husband.

“Damian,” Summer whispers.

Hannah’s eyes widen as shock washes over her. It’s as if the name clicks in her mind and understanding dawns on her in an instant. She stares at him in disbelief for a second. She looks ready to say something, but holds back, her jaw tight and she too, turns and runs after her husband.

“Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?” I snap, pulling away from Damian, my chest tight. I turn to Summer. “What is this, Summer? You invited us here, only to have my husband attacked like this? You know I love you but I won’t tolerate this kind of disrespect—”

Damian’s hands close over my shoulders, pulling me close. “It’s okay,” he says quietly.

I watch him in disbelief. His lip is busted, a bruise already darkening on his chin, and he’s standing there telling me it’s okay? This isn’t my Damian. The man who hits back twice as hard, who never hesitates to defend himself is silent, taking the punch from a stranger without even flinching, without retaliating. It’s not like him at all.

“No, it’s not okay! He had no right—”

“Yes, he did.”

I stare at him, trying to understand. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Because…” Summer steps forward, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Raleigh, Damian, and I… we have history.”

“I don’t understand…” I whisper, confusion seizing me, but there’s a tightening in my chest that tells me this is more than I’m prepared to hear.

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