Page 171 of My Ruthless Husband

He lays me down with a gentleness that shatters my defenses, and I can’t help the sting of tears that burn behind my eyes. I want to lash out and demand why he’s doing this. Instead, myvoice comes out small and raw. “You could’ve just asked one of the attendants to show me to the room.”Like you did in the past.

“Maybe I wanted a reason to hold you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing the side of my cheek as if he’s daring me to believe him. But how can I believe him? This new softness feels wrong, misplaced, and I can’t bring myself to believe it.

Then I watch, unnerved as he sinks to his knees and calmly proceeds to slip off my shoes.

“You’re scaring me,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

His hands pause, fingers hovering over my ankle. “Because of Melissa?”

“Because of everything,” I choke out, pulling my legs to my chest.

His face hardens, a shadow passing over his features. “I won’t hurt you.”

“But you already did.” The room feels too small suddenly, and I can’t stand the way he’s looking at me—as if I matter. “Seriously, Damian, stop! You don’t have to do this.”

He stands. “Do what?”

“You’re acting like you care now. It’s not you. You don’t have to pretend.”

His expression doesn’t change, but I see the flicker of something in his eyes. “I’m not pretending.”

“Then what is this?” I demand. “What are you trying to prove? That you’re not the same cold, selfish man who made me believe in love, only to toss me aside like I’m garbage?” My voice breaks.

He stares at me, and I swallow back the thickness in my throat, turning my face away. I don’t want his pity, his empty words. I don’t want to be here in this situation where I can’t tell what’s real and what’s another lie.

“Don’t worry, Damian,” I say, my voice hollow and cold. “I’m not going to run this time. I’m not going to make things difficultfor you. I’ll stay because I don’t have a choice—because you’ve made sure of that. But stop pretending you care. It doesn’t make it better. It just makes it worse.”

His face hardens, his jaw clenching tight. Without another word, he turns and leaves the room.

I tell myself I did the right thing, that I have to protect myself, that I can’t fall for this sudden act of compassion. I try to convince myself he deserves my scorn, that he deserves every cold word, every accusation. He’s the one who broke me, who turned my love into a weapon against me. But my heart doesn’t listen. It aches with a familiar longing, a desperate wish for something I’ll never have—a love that’s real, and a relationship that’s unbreakable.

“I don’t love him,” I whisper to the empty room. As the tears soak the pillow beneath me, I repeat the lie in my head, praying that one day, it might finally feel true.

Exhaustion claims me, and I fall asleep with his name tangled in my thoughts and the salt of my tears heavy on my tongue.

When I wake, my body feels lighter, the tension eased.

Breakfast is brought to me on a tray, and I savor it in bed, taking my time as if the world outside doesn’t exist. For a moment, everything feels soft and almost peaceful.

But that illusion doesn’t last. We touch down in Inverness, and I find myself facing reality once again. Damian is already there, ushering me from the jet to a sleek, waiting SUV. I move mechanically, going through the motions.

“How’s your headache?”

“Better,” I mutter, barely bothering to glance his way. My voice is flat, like I’m talking to a stranger instead of the man who once held my entire heart. I hesitate before asking the question I already dread the answer to. “Are we going to stay at Valewood Castle?”

“Yes.”

I sigh internally. Leave it to Damian to be heartless enough to take me back to the very place where he took my virginity and broke my heart all in one night.

His next words snap me from my thoughts. “There’s a surprise waiting for you there.”

“What is it? Another collection of designer clothes?” I ask sarcastically.

His brow furrows as if genuinely confused. “No. And if you wanted a new wardrobe, why didn’t you just tell me?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t.” I turn back to the window. The lush landscape outside is stunning, and I take it in, grateful for the distraction. Last time I saw these hills, I didn’t have the luxury of admiring them. I was too busy drowning in the misery of being an unwanted bride.

I stiffen when his hand settles on my shoulder. I turn, frowning at the intensity in his gaze. “What?”

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