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The Price of His Love

The Price of His Love

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She loved him with all she had. He shattered her with all he was. The night Arabelle Knight walked in on her husband tangled in bed with her best friend, her world ended - literally. Declared dead after a mysterious accident, Belle was buried and forgotten. But death was never part of her plan. Two years later, she returns - unrecognizable, untouchable, and armed with a new identity. Now, she's no longer the innocent girl he once betrayed. She's the storm he's about to beg for mercy from. When Damian Blackwood meets the fiery stranger who feels achingly familiar, he doesn't know two things: She's the woman he destroyed. And she's here to destroy him back. In a dangerous game of love, lies, and vengeance, the price of his love may be everything he's not ready to lose - including his heart. Betrayal cuts deep. Revenge cuts deeper. But love... love leaves the deadliest scars.

Chapter 1 The Woman at His Engagement Party

Chapter 1: The Woman at His Engagement Party

The chandeliers bathed the grand hall in a golden, suffocating glow, capturing every forced smile and manufactured laugh. Damian Blackwood stood at the center of it all - a living god among mortals - as hundreds of guests lifted their glasses to toast his future.

His engagement party to Lila Monroe was supposed to be the event of the year. A merger of two powerful empires, a love story crafted for headlines and business magazines alike.

And yet... inside him, there was only silence.

A deep, cavernous silence that not even the clinking of champagne glasses could fill.

Damian tightened his hand around his glass, scanning the sea of faces: politicians, billionaires, celebrities - all vying for a piece of the Blackwood fortune. Lila leaned into him, her laughter false and bright, her perfectly manicured hand resting possessively on his chest.

He played his role flawlessly.

The devoted fiancé.

The powerful CEO.

The man with the world at his feet.

Then the doors slammed open.

The sound cut through the music and chatter like a blade, leaving a sharp silence in its wake. Heads turned. The orchestra faltered. Even Lila's laugh died on her lips.

And that's when Damian saw her.

The woman in black.

She stood at the entrance like a vision summoned from another life - her presence impossible to ignore. A black dress, satin and lethal, kissed every curve of her body. Midnight hair cascaded in soft waves down her bare shoulders.

But it wasn't just her beauty that stole the air from the room.

It was the necklace around her throat.

A diamond necklace - one Damian had given to Arabelle knight on the night he asked her to be his wife.

Damian's world tilted.

No.

No, it couldn't be.

He felt Lila tense beside him.

"Who the hell is that?" she snapped under her breath, her voice sharp with insecurity.

Damian didn't answer. He couldn't. His mind was crashing, rewinding to memories he had buried so deep they should have rotted away.

He couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe.

The woman's heels echoed against the marble floor as she walked - slow, purposeful. She didn't spare him a glance as she weaved through the crowd. Murmurs rose around her like a gathering storm.

Who was she?

Why was she here?

And why did she look like a ghost in human skin?

Damian's throat dried as she picked up a champagne flute from a passing tray. Every movement was calculated - dangerous.

She turned to face the room, her eyes gleaming under the chandeliers.

She raised her glass with an icy smile.

And then, she spoke - a whisper that seemed to crawl directly into Damian's soul.

"To the dead... May they rise stronger."

The glass slipped from Damian's fingers, shattering on the floor.

He staggered back, feeling Lila's nails dig into his arm as she hissed his name. But he barely heard her.

It was her.

It was Belle.

But Belle was dead.

He had buried her.

He had seen the flames consume the wreckage of the car after the accident.

This was impossible.

She turned her gaze directly at him now, locking him in place with a single look - a look filled with a thousand unspoken promises of pain, of reckoning, of blood.

Damian took a step forward, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"Arabelle?" he breathed, though the name barely passed his lips.

She smiled wider, as if she heard him.

As if she had been waiting for this moment.

And then - without a single backward glance - she disappeared into the crowd.

Damian lunged after her, pushing past guests, ignoring Lila's furious shouting.

He had to reach her.

Had to see her up close.

Had to confirm that it was real.

But by the time he reached the hallway... she was gone.

Vanished.

As if she had never been there at all.

He stood there, breathing hard, hands shaking.

Behind him, he heard Lila's heels click angrily toward him.

"Damian, what the hell was that?!" she demanded, her voice shrill with panic and rage.

He turned slowly to face her, his face pale, his eyes distant.

"I..."

He couldn't find the words.

Because how do you explain that the woman you loved - the woman you let die - had just walked into your engagement party and toasted your death?

The whispers started almost immediately.

"Who was she?"

"Did you see her necklace?"

"She looked like someone..."

"A ghost, maybe?"

"A scandal waiting to happen."

Reporters sniffed the air, sensing blood.

Investors exchanged worried glances.

Damian barely heard them all.

His mind was locked on one thing:

Arabelle.

If it was her...

If she was alive...

Why had she stayed away all this time?

Why had she let him believe she was dead?

And why had she returned now - like a specter - on the night he pledged his future to another woman?

A hand gripped his sleeve. Lila's face was inches from his, furious and frightened.

"You know her," she accused, her voice trembling. "Who is she, Damian? Tell me the truth!"

For a moment, he almost told her.

Almost blurted out the truth he didn't yet fully understand himself.

But then he saw the vultures circling - the photographers, the shareholders, the politicians - all watching him, waiting for any crack in his armor.

Slowly, Damian forced himself to straighten.

He smoothed his jacket, wiped the sweat from his brow.

He forced a smile.

"No one important," he said coldly. "Forget her."

But as Lila's angry voice faded into the background, and as the guests returned to their shallow conversations, Damian knew he was lying.

Because he could never forget Arabelle knight

Not when the memory of her was stitched into every broken part of him.

And now, she was back.

And something told him she wasn't here for love.

She was here for revenge.

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