The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 115

Chapter 115

Chapter 115

Bryan froze at Lila’s side the moment the words settled in.

Damon Blackthorne is dead.

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The thought refused to fully form in his mind, as if rejecting its own existence. If it were true-if it could be true-then there was only one certainty left in its wake.

Lila now stood at the head of the Blackthorne empire.

He felt it then-the weight of that reality pressing down on the courtyard, on the mansion, on everyone who dared breathe within its reach.

Lila, without turning, sensed the shift in him.

“Bryan,” she said quietly.

He stiffened.

“What do you think?” she asked, finally turning to face him. Her eyes locked onto his-sharp, unwavering, searching. “Is he dead?”

Bryan swallowed.

For a moment, no words came. His thoughts raced, colliding into one another-memories of Damon, of the man’s ruthless precision, his impossible foresight, the way he moved three steps ahead of everyone else without ever revealing how.

“No…” Bryan said at last, though his voice trembled despite him. “No, I don’t think so.”

Lila’s gaze did not soften. “You don’t think so,” she repeated.

“I don’t think Damon is that easy to kill,” Bryan continued, forcing steadiness into his tone. “Not like that. Not in some random crossfire.”

But even as he spoke, doubt crept in.

Then where is he?

His mind spiraled.

If Damon was alive, why disappear? Why allow this story to spread? Why let Lila return to a city that already

mourned him?

*If he’s hiding…*

Bryan’s jaw tightened.

*Who is he hiding from?*

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Chapter 115

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The possibilities unfolded one after another, each darker than the last. Enemies. Betrayal. A move so calculated it required even his own death to be believed.

And yet-

Bryan exhaled sharply.

Even after all the years he had spent under Damon, learning, observing, surviving-

He still could not comprehend the man’s way of thinking.

Slowly, Bryan lifted his gaze back to Lila.

And that was when it unsettled him the most.

There was nothing on her face.

No shock.

No grief.

No fracture.

Only stillness.

Controlled. Absolute.

As if the news of Damon’s death had not touched her at all.

Bryan’s chest tightened.

Because he knew that wasn’t strength alone.

That was something else entirely.

Lila stood alone in the study.

The room still carried Damon’s presence-dark wood, sharp lines, everything in its exact place. Untouched. Unmoved. As if the man himself might walk back in and notice the slightest disruption.

Her phone vibrated softly in her hand.

A message.

Lila, be careful. In the dark web, Damon’s death already spreads, everything move fast now.

-Mark

Her eyes lingered on the screen, unreadable.

She didn’t reply.

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Chapter 115

Instead, her grip tightened slightly as her thoughts turned inward, colder, sharper.

Dead?

No.

The word itself felt… wrong.

Damon Blackthorne, caught in a crossfire?

Pathetic.

Her jaw clenched almost imperceptibly.

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Just this morning, a woman had sent her a message—an image burned into her mind with cruel clarity.

Damon. Asleep.

Vulnerable.

Still.

Now he was dead.

Lila’s breathing slowed, but her thoughts spun faster.

Was that before?

Or after?

A dangerous flicker passed through her eyes.

Or was he careless enough… to be caught like that?

Her fingers curled at her side.

Sleeping around like a whore…

The thought struck harder than she expected, sharp and disorienting. For a brief second, the room seemed to tilt-

“Madam.”

Jere’s voice cut through her thoughts like a blade.

Lila blinked once.

And just like that, everything inside her stilled again.

She turned slowly.

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Chapter 115

Jere stood by the door, posture straight, expression carefully neutral.

“The Black Veil has agreed to meet you,” he said. “We can arrange for backup to stay close.”

Silence settled between them.

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Lila studied him for a moment, her gaze calm, but distant-as if measuring something far beyond the words he had spoken.

Then she walked past him, each step deliberate, controlled.

“No.” she said.

Jere hesitated. “Madam?”

“I’ll go alone.”

The words landed without room for argument.

Jere’s brows tightened slightly. “That would be dangerous.”

Lila stopped near the doorway, her hand resting lightly against the frame.

“Dangerous?” she repeated softly.

Then she turned her head just enough for him to see the cold edge in her eyes.

“They already think Damon is dead.”

A pause.

“Let them believe I’m weaker than him.”

Jere said nothing.

Because there was nothing to say.

Lila faced forward again, her voice final.

“Prepare the car,”

“Yes, Madam.”

As Jere stepped back, Lila’s gaze drified briefly to the window-the darkening sky over Wago City reflecting faintly against the glass.

Her expression did not change.

But beneath that stillness, something had already begun to move.

And whatever Damon had started-

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Chapter 115

She would finish it.

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“Lila… are you sure?” Bryan asked, his voice low, restrained–but unable to hide the tension beneath it.

Lila didn’t look at him.

“Yes,” she said simply. “Stay here.”

There was no room for argument.

She walked past him, past the towering doors of the mansion, and into the waiting car Jere had prepared. The engine started the moment she stepped in, and within seconds, she was gone-disappearing into the hollow silence of Wago City.

Jere stood still for a moment after the car vanished from sight.

Then he pulled out his phone and dialed.

“She doesn’t have backup,” he said the moment the line connected.

A scoff echoed from the other end.

Then the call ended.

Jere lowered the phone slowly, his expression darkening.

The mansion stood on the far end of the city.

Older.

Quieter.

Wrong.

As Lila stepped out of the car, her eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the structure before her. Something about it tugged at her memory-faint, distant, like a dream she couldn’t quite grasp.

*I’ve seen this place before…*

But the thought slipped away before she could catch it.

“Madam,” a man greeted, already waiting. “This way.”

Lila said nothing and followed.

The halls were dimly lit, the air thick with a strange stillness. Her footsteps echoed softly as she was led deeper inside, until they reached the dining room.

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Chapter 115

The doors opened.

A woman sat at the head of a long table.

Waiting.

When she saw Lila, she smiled-warm, welcoming.

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Too warm.

“Lila,” the woman said, rising to her feet. “Finally. Nice to meet you.”

She walked forward with open arms.

And before Lila could step back, the woman pulled her into a tight embrace.

Lila’s body stiffened instantly.

Who-

“Should I know you?” Lila asked, her voice cold, detached.

The woman pulled back, still smiling.

“Yes,” she said lightly. “I’m Vivian.”

A pause.

“Your future mother-in-law.”

Lila’s eyes sharpened.

Vivian turned as if nothing was strange, gently guiding her away from the dining room. “Come, let’s talk somewhere more comfortable.”

They stepped into the garden.

The night air was cool, the faint scent of flowers drifting through the silence. Lila allowed herself to be seated, her posture straight, her gaze fixed on the woman before her.

“Mother-in-law?” Lila repeated.

Her voice carried a quiet edge.

“I only have one.”

Vivian’s smile didn’t falter.

“Yes,” she said softly. “But isn’t she… dying?”

Lila’s fingers stilled against her lap.

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Rep head slightly, studying her. “Isn’t your husband dead?”

Her smile remained warm.

Gentle.

Almost kind.

And yet-

Lila froze.

Not from the words.

But from the certainty behind them.

Lila did not respond immediately.

The night air pressed in around them, heavy with the scent of flowers and something far more suffocating beneath it.

Vivian, however, seemed perfectly at ease.

“Now that you are officially a widow,” she continued smoothly, “you will need someone beside you to manage the Blackthorne empire… don’t you think?”

Her eyes held Lila’s with quiet intention.

Not a suggestion.

A proposition.

Lila leaned back slightly in her chair, her posture relaxed-but her gaze sharpened, cutting straight through the softness of Vivian’s tone.

Vivian lifted her teacup, taking a slow, elegant sip before continuing.

“My son wants to marry you,” she said, as if discussing something utterly ordinary. “And he refuses to marry anyone else.”

A faint smile curved her lips.

“So as a mother… I simply give my son what he wants.”

Her

eyes flickered with something deeper-something calculated.

“And you, Lila… are the best match for him.”

Silence.

Then-

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“Your son?” Lila asked, her voice even, but laced with quiet scrutiny.

Vivian set her cup down with delicate precision.

“Yes,” she said.

A small pause followed, just long enough to be deliberate.

“You’ve already met him.”

Lila’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Vivian continued, as if unfolding a carefully prepared script.

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“But… there were circumstances,” she said lightly. “Unfortunate ones. I needed to clear his path first.”

Another sip of tea.

Unbothered.

Unhurried.

As if she were not speaking of lives rearranged-removed.

Lila watched her in silence, her mind already moving, dissecting every word.

You’ve already met him.

Faces flickered through her memory.

Allies. Enemies. Strangers.

Men who smiled. Men who lied.

Men who watched.

Her gaze hardened.

“And what,” Lila asked slowly, “makes you think I would agree to that?”

Vivian smiled again.

This time, there was something colder beneath it.

“Because,” she said gently, “you don’t have as many choices as you think.”

The words settled like a blade between them.

“The Black Veil controls your husband’s body,” Vivian continued. “Your city is unstable. Your allies are

uncertain.”

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Chapter 115

She tilted her head slightly.

“And you came here alone.”

A pause.

Then, softer-

“My son, on the other hand… can give you everything you need.”

Power.

Protection.

Control.

Vivian’s fingers traced the rim of her teacup.

“And all he asks in return… is you.”

The garden fell silent again.

Lila did not move.

Did not blink.

But something behind her eyes shifted—cold, precise, dangerous.

Because this was no longer about a meeting.

This was a negotiation.

And Lila had just realized-

She had been invited not as a guest.

But as the prize.

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