The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137: Chapter 137: The Rescue

Aria’s POV

"You know what’s funny?" Marcus kept the gun trained on me but didn’t pull the trigger. "You should have stayed away from Damien, after he treated you like trash yet you still went back to him, what a fool you are."

"He was wrong," I said, keeping my voice steady despite my racing heart. "About a lot of things."

"Was he though?" Marcus circled me slowly, like a predator. "Because from where I’m standing, you walked right into my trap. Alone. Unarmed. That seems pretty pathetic to me."

"I’m not alone." I met his eyes. "And I’m not unarmed. I have something you’ll never have, Marcus—people who actually care whether I live or die."

His expression darkened. "Touching. Really. But it won’t save you." He gestured with the gun toward Vivian. "Here’s how this works: you’re going to call your FBI friends and tell them to stand down. Then you’re going to walk out of here with me. Vivian stays as insurance."

"Not happening," I said flatly.

"Then I shoot her." He pointed the gun at Vivian, who whimpered. "Your choice. You can be the hero who saves her sister, or the coward who lets her die."

Through the wire, I heard Torres: "Stall him. Snipers almost in position."

"Before I decide," I said, "I want to understand something. Why do you hate Damien so much? What did he do that was so unforgivable?"

Marcus laughed bitterly. "What did he do? Everything. He was our father’s favorite. The golden child who could do no wrong while I was beaten, starved, locked in basements for days." His voice rose. "I was seven years old when Father broke my arm. And where was Damien? Standing beside Father, learning to be just like him."

"Damien was a child too," I said carefully. "He was as much a victim as you were."

"No." Marcus’s eyes blazed. "He made a choice. When I was ten and Father found out I’d tried to run away, he beat me unconscious. Left me bleeding on the floor. And Damien" His voice cracked. "Damien stepped over me on his way to dinner. Didn’t even look at me. Just stepped over his own brother like I was garbage."

My chest tightened. I’d known his father was cruel, but this.

"I was sent away, brutalized and given inhuman treatment" Marcus continued. "While Damien got everything—the company, the money, the respect. And he didn’t even try to find me. Didn’t care whether I lived or died."

"He cares now," I said quietly. "He’s spent years trying to find you, to make amends."

"Too late!" Marcus shouted, the gun shaking. "It’s years too late for sorry! He made his choice then. Now I’m making mine. And you" He turned the gun back on me. "You’re going to be the price he pays for abandoning family."

"Then you’re no better than your father," I said, and saw him flinch. "You’re using violence and cruelty to hurt someone you claim to love. That’s exactly what your father did and you are becoming him."

"Shut up." But his hand wavered.

"Is that really what you want?" I pressed. "To be the monster your father created? Or do you want to be better than him?"

"I said shut up!" Marcus moved closer, pressing the gun to my temple. "You don’t get to psychoanalyze me. You don’t know what it was like."

"You’re right. I don’t." My voice was soft. "But I know what it’s like to be betrayed by family. To be thrown away and left for dead. And I know that becoming cruel to hurt them back doesn’t heal the wound. It just creates more pain."

For a moment, something flickered in Marcus’s eyes. Uncertainty. Pain.

Then it hardened again. "Nice try. But I’m not one of your broken CEOs you can fix with pretty words." He grabbed my arm roughly. "Now call off the FBI or I start shooting."

"Marcus"

"NOW!"

A voice cut through the warehouse, amplified by a bullhorn: "Marcus Blackwood, this is the FBI. You’re surrounded. Release the hostages and come out with your hands up."

Marcus’s face twisted with rage. "You brought them right to me. You stupid." He swung the gun toward Vivian. I didn’t think. I just moved. I threw myself in front of my sister as the shot rang out.

Damien’s POV

The sound of the gunshot stopped my heart."ARIA!" I was moving before I could think, before Torres could stop me, sprinting toward the warehouse.

"Blackwood, stand down!" Torres shouted, but I didn’t care about protocols or plans or anything except getting to her.

I burst through the warehouse door to chaos.

Aria was on the ground, Vivian screaming behind her. Marcus stood over them, gun raised for another shot.

"NO!" I tackled him before he could fire, and we went down hard. The gun skittered across the concrete.

Marcus was fast—military training made him deadly. He got his hands around my throat, squeezing, his face a mask of rage.

"This is your fault!" he snarled. "All of it! If you’d just let me destroy you quietly"

"More than anything."

"Then you’re lucky." Marcus looked toward where Aria was being loaded into the ambulance. "Hold onto that. Don’t become Father. Don’t let the Blackwood curse destroy what you have."

"I won’t," I promised.

As FBI agents hauled Marcus away, I ran to the ambulance.

"Damien." Aria reached for me as I climbed in beside her. "Is Vivian"

"She’s fine. Bruised but fine. They’re taking her to the hospital for evaluation." I caught her hand. "But Aria, what you did—throwing yourself in front of that bullet"

"Was stupid?" she offered with a weak smile.

"Was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen." My voice cracked. "And the most terrifying. When I heard that shot, when I thought—" I couldn’t finish.

"I’m okay." She squeezed my hand. "The vest worked. Olivia’s being dramatic."

"Your ribs might be fractured," Olivia said from the front of the ambulance. "That’s not dramatic, that is a medical fact."

"See?" Aria smiled at me. "I’m fine. Olivia said so."

"That’s not what I said" Olivia started, but Aria was already pulling me closer.

"Damien, about what you said earlier. Before I went in." Her eyes were serious. "About loving me, about not being done"

"I meant every word," I said immediately. "Every single word."

"I know." She touched my face gently. "And I need you to know—when Marcus pointed that gun at Vivian, when I threw myself in front of her, it wasn’t just about saving her. It was about being the person you make me want to be. The person Noah needs me to be. Someone who chooses compassion over revenge, even when it’s hard."

"You’ve always been that person," I said softly. "I just helped you remember."

"We helped each other remember." She pulled me down for a kiss—gentle because of her injuries, but no less meaningful. "We’re good for each other, Damien. We make each other better."