Chapter 5: His Proposal

Chapter 5 - His Proposal –Livana– It was like pins and needles dancing in my skull. A dull ache, paired with the warmth of something—or someone—beside me. I stirred, pushing myself up slowly, but the bed was too soft... too unfamiliar. And the arm draped around me? Familiar in a way that made my stomach twist. I wasn't home. And worse, I knew exactly whose bed this was. Did I sleep with my rival again? I didn't even flinch at the thought. Why should I? My fiancé had long stopped pretending to be faithful or rather he was never faithful. He took whoever he wanted. Our engagement was nothing more than a chain—one I had no intention of keeping around my neck. I wouldn't marry that bastard. I brushed my hand over my chest—bare skin. Of course. I was naked. Great. I must've drank too much last night. Sliding carefully out of bed, I clutched at the sheet and wrapped it around me. My hand groped the air in search of my walking stick, but all I felt was an unfamiliar texture beneath my toes—the fleece carpet was too soft, too luxurious. Not mine. How was I supposed to find the bathroom in a place I'd never seen? I blinked instinctively, as if that would change anything. Darkness still stretched endlessly before me. I took a tentative step, but the sheet tangled around my ankles, and I stumbled. Before I could hit the ground, a strong hand cupped my forehead. "Where are you off to, my Goddess?" Damon's voice was huskier than usual—gravelly from sleep, maybe. I felt the vibration of it as much as I heard it. He pulled the sheet away from me with ease and swept me into his arms. I shivered—not from the cold, but from the overwhelming awareness of how exposed I was. I wrapped my arms around myself. "Robe," I demanded. He took his time, and I stood there with my arms clenched tightly around my body, hearing his footsteps move lazily. Eventually, the soft fabric brushed my shoulders, and I pulled it around me instantly. "Toilet's behind you," he murmured. "Leave." "What if you trip?" he teased. "Just fucking leave, Damon!" I snapped, heat rising to my cheeks. He laughed under his breath. I heard the door shut—then paused. I tilted my head, listening. "I can still hear you breathing," I said flatly. "Babe, I'm just worried." His voice was closer again, too close. A warm hand brushed the small of my back. I smacked him hard across the chest. The contact told me enough—bare skin, of course. "That was dangerously close to my manhood," he muttered. "I should've aimed lower," I hissed. "I'll shower with you then, alright? No need to be shy." It's not shyness. It's called privacy. A right I rarely seem to have anymore. "I want to go home," I said quietly. "This is our home. I'll redesign it to match yours, down to every detail," he whispered. He nuzzled against my neck, and I felt the breath of his words ripple across my skin. "By the way, your family submitted the paperwork to register your marriage with Richard. They're headed to the registry as we speak." I froze. "That can't happen." He sighed, clearly amused. "Richard lost it when he saw us together. Laura said marrying into our enemy's family might be chaotic... but it could be very beneficial—for both sides. Revenge." "What do you want from me?" I whispered. His fingers wove into my hair. "Tell me what to do, my Goddess," he said gently. "I could drop to one knee right now with a ring. You don't love him. You've never let him touch you the way I have." His lips brushed my ear, and a strange shudder went down my spine. Last night felt... different. Familiar, yet thrilling. Something I might've actually wanted. Maybe I let him in because I was tired. Or bored. Or both. "Let's fly to Hawaii," he continued. "I've got the CENOMAR and everything else ready. Or Vegas. Or Paris, if you want something more... cinematic." I turned away from him, letting the silence stretch. My world was built from sound, from texture, from the way air moved when people stepped too close. I could remember the way he murmured to me in the dark, the way he guided my hands to his chest, to his face, so I'd know it was him. I never let Richard close like that. "Hawaii, then," I said softly. "Perfect!" His joy was unmistakable, practically radiating from him. He guided me back to where I had felt that unfamiliar rug earlier. "Toilet's behind you." This time, he opened the door and truly left. His footsteps faded, and I exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours. Finally, Alone in the bathroom. –Damon– I stormed down the hallway and pounded on Laura's door. "What?" she snapped. I shoved it open. She was sitting up in bed with some white paste smeared on her face—probably one of those skin masks. Fully clothed. Alone. "Where are your sister's documents?" I demanded. She blinked at me, confused. "Huh?" "Her passport. ID. Birth certificate. Everything. We're flying to Hawaii in five hours." Damien popped his head out from another room, looking as casual as ever. I always thought he and Laura were best friends with benefits, but apparently, the benefits were a little different. "What's with the commotion?" he asked. "Oh hey, Laura, can you do that to my face too?" "Yeah, sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "Laura," I pressed, stepping closer, "I'm not playing around. I need the documents now." "What's the rush?" she scoffed, standing slowly. "Your family is already preparing a wedding for Livana. It's happening in a week or two." My voice was tight. I could barely keep the fury out of it. She paused, then sighed. "Fine, fine. I have all the originals." She pulled a small suitcase from under the bed. I didn't even remember her bringing luggage. Just how long had she been planning this? She handed me a thick envelope. I flipped through it—passport, birth certificate, IDs. Everything I needed. I didn't thank her. I turned and marched back to the master bedroom. That's when I heard Livana scream. I burst in and found her on the floor of the bathroom "Liva!" I rushed to her, scooping her into my arms like porcelain. My heart thudded painfully. I carried her back to the bed, inspecting her legs and forehead. "What happened?" I asked, my voice barely steady as she winced and clutched her back. Damn it. I never should've left her in that bathroom. The floor wasn't even carpeted. Stupid. Careless. I knelt beside her, gently peeling the robe from her back to check for bruises or marks. Nothing visible. But what if there were fractures? I covered her again and grabbed my phone to call the family doctor. He lived nearby, thank God. The villa had a full medical suite in the basement. We'd used it before—for emergencies, surgeries. She'd be fine. "I'm okay," she mumbled. "Just... get me some ice." She tried to sit up, wincing. I moved to the edge of the bed, where her legs hung over. I checked her knees, her long, flawless legs, then pressed my lips to them in apology. "I'm sorry, Livana. I won't leave you alone like that again." She didn't respond. Just sighed. "I want to take a bath." "I already called the doctor. He'll be here soon." "I said I want to bathe," she repeated, more firmly. I stared at her face—so fragile, yet stubborn. God, she looked ethereal. My blind Goddess. "Alright." I got up, went to the bathroom, and filled the tub. I made sure the water was just the right warmth. Then I rang for the maids. "More carpets," I ordered. "Everywhere. And prepare breakfast." While they moved, I pulled out another phone and dialed a contact in Hawaii. It took a while, but he finally answered. "Yes? Damon? It's late—" "You better fix your tone, Kai," I growled. "Sorry, sorry." "I need you to set up everything. A priest. A judge. A lawyer. I want the wedding ready the moment we land." There was a pause, then a chuckle. "Wow. This is serious." "Get the cabin, the venue—everything. I'll send you the documents. And keep it quiet." "I got you," he said. "Send them over. Call me when you're in the air." I hung up and returned to check the bathwater. Warm. Gentle. Enough to soothe her pain. Still, the image of her collapsed on the floor haunted me. What if she'd hit her head? What if her spine had cracked? What if I'd lost her? The door swung open. "Sis!" Laura entered with a small kit. "So, how's your pre-honeymoon?" she teased. "Let me clean your eyes," she said softly to Livana. I stood behind Laura, watching her every move. I needed to know what kind of medicine she was using. Laura glanced back and noticed me. "Damien got this from the best eye doctor in the world," she explained, holding up a small bottle. "It's harmless. Just clears out dryness and dust. But you'll need to book an appointment with him." I crossed my arms. "His name?" "Ask your cousin. I suck with names." She carefully wiped Livana's eyes, cleaning the mucus I hadn't even noticed. Then she administered one drop in each eye. Livana blinked, wincing slightly. "Twice a day, or when her eyes feel dry," Laura instructed, handing me the bottle and a pouch of supplies. She pulled out another small container and tucked it into her bag. "I'll have Damien check this—see what kind of drops were used before." "So they've been tampering with her?" I asked, voice low, teeth clenched. Laura met my gaze. "It seems even my father's turning a blind eye to what his wife's been doing." I curled my hand into a fist. I wanted to burn their whole house down. Everyone in her family had failed her—except Laura. Laura, who at least had the decency to keep me informed. But the rest of them? They would all pay for trying to break her. She's mine. And no one's going to take her from me. Not ever.