ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE SINGLE DAD (Gabrielle and Damon) novel Chapter 140

CHAPTER 140

DAMON’S POV

SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO

I walked out of Mother’s room after treating her wounds and shut the door behind me.

I leaned my temple against the wall and finally let out the groan I’d been holding in.

My back was sore from Father’s whip, but I didn’t want Mother to know. She was already going through enough, and I didn’t want to cause her more pain.

All my life, Father had treated me worse than he treated his men for his own reasons.

He’d beat me with belts and canes for the slightest offenses when I was younger, and sometimes, Mother would cover my body with hers, taking his hits in my place.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys standing in the hallway, watching me.

Since his arrival five days ago, Father had become even worse–if that was possible–and I’d grown to resent him despite knowing it wasn’t his fault.

He was just a victim like I was.

Like Mother was.

Regardless, I couldn’t help but snap at him. “What?”

He blinked and shrank further into the corner. “Nothing. Sorry.”

Guilt nudged at my throat, but I didn’t show it. “Get out of my sight.”

He scurried away, frightened and anxious.

Slowly, I pulled away from the wall and walked upstairs to my room. Selene was sneaking in later and I needed to find a way to hide my scars from her.

I was walking past Father’s office when I overheard his conversation with someone on the phone.

“…Damien is sixteen,” he was saying. “He’s no longer a child but I need him by my side at all times, as he’s my heir. I could send his bastard half–brother to Naples in his place.”

I felt chills crawl up my spine.

Father had told me there was a place there for me, but I’d heard from his drunk men that going willingly could be suicide.

No one came back the same.

Some never came back at all.

Now he was condemning Rhys–only fourteen–to that place in my stead.

“And if your bastard doesn’t survive?” the voice on the phone asked.

Father chuckled, a cold, amused sound that made my stomach twist in fear.

“Then he dies,” he said casually. “At least he’ll be useful for something.”

My hands curled into fists.

I heard the scrape of Father’s chair.

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“Besides,” he continued, his tone sharpening, “it’s time the boy started earning the Gravari name.”

My pulse thundered in my ears.

If Rhys went to Naples, he certainly wouldn’t survive with the way he trembled every time anyone raised their voice.

I forced myself to move before Father could open the door and find me listening. By the time I reached the stairs, my mind was already racing.

There was only one option.

We both had to leave tonight or we might never get the chance again. I couldn’t save anyone if I stayed any longer, or died from Father’s constant abuse.

Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about Alessia yet as Father never harmed her.

At least, not physically.

I was aware he’d plan to marry her off to someone four times her age when she turned eighteen.

I went straight to Rhys’s room.

The door creaked softly when I pushed it open.

He was asleep on top of the covers, curled into himself like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

This was the boy I hated, the reminder of Father’s betrayal, and the reason why Mother was depressed.

So why did I feel the need to protect him?

“Rhys,” I whispered sharply.

His eyes flew open.

He shot upright, panic flashing across his face. “I’m sorry–I didn’t mean to fall asleep-”

“Shut up,” I said harshly, regret flooding me the moment the words left my mouth.

He went silent immediately.

I exhaled and released my clenched fist. “We’re leaving.”

He blinked. “What?”

I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of bed. “You heard me.”

His confusion turned to fear. “Leaving… to where?”

Good question.

Except I didn’t have an answer yet.

“Out of this house,” I said.

His face drained of color. “You can’t. Father will

“I know exactly what he’ll do,” I cut in. “And I also know what he’d do to us if we don’t leave tonight.”

Rhys stared at me. “What…?”

“If you stay here, you’re dead,” I said flatly. “So grab your coat.”

Rhys didn’t move.

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He just stood there staring at me like he was trying to understand whether this was a trick.

I didn’t blame him.

I’d barely said a nice word to him since he got here.

He rushed to the wardrobe in the corner and pulled out a coat. His hands were shaking so badly that he struggled to push his arms through the sleeves.

“Listen carefully,” I said.

His eyes locked onto mine.

“There’s a gate behind the gardens,” I glanced at the clock on his bedside table. “The guards there get drunk before midnight. We have about twenty minutes.”

Rhys nodded nervously.

“We leave through the back staircase,” I continued. “No talking and no running unless I tell you to.”

“What if we get caught?” he whispered.

I held his gaze. “You won’t get caught and if you listen to me, we should reach the main road before midnight.”

He nodded and quietly followed me to the back of the house. The back staircase creaked under our weight as we moved down slowly.

I heard something and I froze.

Rhys nearly walked into me. “What?”

I lifted a finger to my lips.

Voices drifted from outside as two of Father’s men were there, laughing loudly and arguing about women.

They were obviously wasted.

Good.

I waited until their laughter grew farther away before continuing down the last few steps.

Rhys stayed glued to my back as we slipped through the corridor and finally into the moon–lit garden.

Cold air hit my face.

The estate stretched around us, and the iron gate was visible at the far end of the path.

When we reached the final stretch of the garden, I slowed.

Something felt wrong.

It seemed Father had made some adjustments to the gate after the last time some of men ran away with his money.

My eyes dropped to the ground and my stomach twisted.

Rhys noticed. “What is that?”

I stepped closer and crouched, studying it.

It was a pressure plate.

Of course, Father would do something like this.

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Rhys shifted nervously behind me. “Damien?”

I tested the plate with my foot and noticed the thin wire running along the side of the gate. It led straight into a small metal box attached to the wall.

An alarm system.

My blood ran cold.

It would reset once I removed my foot from the plate, alarming Father and his men.

My jaw clenched.

“Damien?” Rhys whispered again, panic creeping into his voice.

“Can you shut up for once?” I whispered, irritation crawling up my spine. “There’s an alarm. If I move it would be triggered.”

His face went pale. “C–can we turn it off?”

“No.”

He swallowed hard. “Then what do we do?”

Half my weight was barely enough to lift the gate, but there was a narrow space beneath it, just big enough for someone small to crawl through.

We could both fit, but someone had to hold the plate down or the alarm would be triggered before either of us could escape.

Rhys followed my gaze to the ground and realization slowly dawned on him. “No…”

I stepped onto the plate fully. The metal sank slightly under my weight, lifting the gate a bit wider.

“Listen to me,” I said.

His head shook immediately. “No.”

“You’ll escape alone.”

“No!” he said louder, panic rising. “We can both-”

“We can’t.”

His breathing became uneven. “You said we were leaving together.”

I forced my voice to stay calm even though I knew I was fucked. “This is the only way.”