The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 71

Chapter 71: Chapter 71:

Damien pov

My voice went cold. "But a year later, I overheard a phone call. Father was talking to someone about ’medication adjustments’ and ’keeping him sedated.’ I heard him say Marcus’s name."

Aria’s eyes widened. "He was alive."

"Father had him locked away in a private psychiatric institution. Told the staff Marcus was dangerously insane, a threat to himself and others. Kept him drugged, isolated, erased from existence." The rage I’d buried for years threatened to surface. "I confronted Father about it. He backhanded me across the face and said if I ever mentioned Marcus again, I’d join him."

"You were just a kid," Aria whispered.

"When he was seventeen, locked in that facility, he once called me, begged me to get him out. And I told him I couldn’t because our Father knew best, that he needed to get better. But I was a coward,"

I corrected bitterly. "I knew my brother was being held prisoner, probably tortured by whatever ’treatments’ they were giving him, and I did nothing. I went to university, took over the company, lived my life while Marcus rotted in that place for years."

"Damien, you couldn’t have."

"I could have." My voice was harsh. "I had access to money, resources, and lawyers. But I was too afraid of Father, too focused on my own ambitions. I told myself Marcus was dangerous, that Father was right to keep him locked up. I abandoned him just like Father did."

"When did he escape?"

"A few years ago. That’s when I discovered the institution that had been keeping him all these years—until he escaped during a facility transfer." I turned to look at her. "Marcus spent years in hell because of what Father did. And he blames me for it, for not saving him. For inheriting everything that should have been his, for having the life, the family, the freedom he never got."

"So this is revenge."

"This is justice," I said quietly. "At least in his mind. He’s not just trying to hurt me, Aria. He’s trying to make me feel exactly what he felt—powerless, violated, watching everything I love slip away while I can do nothing to stop it."

Aria was quiet for a long moment. "The cameras, the kidnapping. The photographs of Noah..."

"All designed to make me suffer slowly. To take away my sense of safety, control, and family." My hands tightened on the wheel. "Marcus isn’t just psychotic. He’s methodical and patient. And he won’t stop until he’s destroyed everything I have."

Aria pov

The car stopped as Damien turned to face me.

"He’s right," he said quietly. "I failed him. Just like I failed you. And now he wants to destroy everything I love to make me feel what he felt—abandoned, powerless, alone."

"Then we don’t let him." I cupped his face, forcing him to meet my eyes. "We protect Noah. We stop Marcus, and we end this cycle of Blackwood men destroying everyone they’re supposed to love."

"How?"

"Together." I leaned forward, my forehead resting against his. "Like you keep saying, we do this together."

"Mama? Daddy?" Noah’s voice came from the backseat. "Why are you sitting so close?"

We pulled apart as Damien cleared his throat. "Just talking, buddy."

"About the bad man?"

"No." I turned to smile at him. "About what kind of friend rabbit Mr. Hoppy wants."

"A girl rabbit!" Noah bounced in his seat. "With pink ears!"

"Pink ears it is." Damien got out and opened Noah’s door. "Come on, let’s go see your new room."

We rode the elevator up to the penthouse—all seventy stories, with Noah counting each floor excitedly. When the doors opened, I stepped into a space that took my breath away.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city. Modern furniture in shades of grey and black. And despite the cold elegance, touches of warmth—photos on the mantle, a soft throw on the couch, books scattered on the coffee table.

"Noah’s room is this way." Damien led us down a hallway. "I had it prepared when... well, just in case."

He opened a door to reveal a child’s paradise. Race car bed, toy chest overflowing with options, a reading nook with pillows and books, even a small basketball hoop.

Noah’s mouth fell open. "This is mine?"

"All yours." Damien set him down. "Go explore."

Noah took off running, Mr. Hoppy flying behind him like a cape.

I turned to Damien. "You prepared this? "Damien"

My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

My fingers went numb as I opened it.

Enjoying the new living arrangements? How domestic. Don’t get too comfortable. I’m just getting started. And next time, I won’t send a photographer. -M

Attached was a photo. Of me, Damien, and Noah in the school parking lot. Taken from close range. Marcus hadn’t sent someone to watch us or he been there himself.

I showed Damien the phone with shaking hands. Watched his face go white, then red with fury.

"He was there." My voice came out barely a whisper. "The whole time. While we were inside with the police, with Noah."

"Mama? Daddy?" Noah appeared in the doorway, holding a toy truck. "Why do you both look scared?"

Damien pocketed my phone and forced a smile. "We’re not scared, buddy, just tired."

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