The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137

Chapter 137

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Damon stared at his phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light of his office. The city outside stretched endlessly, a sea of lights flickering against the night sky-but his attention was fixed on one thing alone.

Call failed.

Again.

His thumb hovered over the screen, tempted to try one more time, but he stopped himself. His jaw tightened, irritation simmering beneath the surface. It wasn’t just the missed calls-it was the silence. The deliberate silence.

“She’s avoiding me,” he muttered under his breath.

Without hesitation, he scrolled through his contacts and pressed another name.

Simon.

The line rang twice before it connected.

“Simon,” Damon said immediately, skipping any form of greeting. “Can you check on my wife’s schedule?”

There was a pause-just long enough to feel intentional. Then Simon’s voice came through, laced with

amusement.

“What’s wrong, Damon?” he drawled. “Your wife still rejecting your calls?”

Damon’s grip on the phone tightened. He could practically see Simon’s smirk through the line.

“Yes, Simon,” Damon replied flatly. “Happy now?”

A soft chuckle echoed. Simon had always enjoyed pushing boundaries, especially when it came to Damon’s personal life.

Damon exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay focused. “Listen. I need you to go to her office. Right now. Tell her I need to talk to her.”

There was a rustling sound on the other end, followed by a sigh-overly dramatic, as expected.

“Oh, I’m very sorry to inform you,” Simon said, his tone mockingly polite, “but I’m not in the office.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you’re not in the office?”

“I mean exactly what I said,” Simon continued. “I’m on a one-week leave. Approved personally by the lady boss.”

Damon straightened in his chair, disbelief flashing across his face. “A one-week leave? Why would she approve that?”

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Chapter 137

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Simon didn’t hesitate. “Because I’ve been a hardworking employee,” he replied smoothly. “And as a reward, I was granted a break.”

Damon scoffed. “A reward? That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Maybe you don’t know everything about her,” Simon said lightly, though there was a subtle edge beneath his words.

That hit a nerve.

Damon’s gaze shifted to the city again, his reflection staring back at him in the glass-tense, unreadable. The thought lingered longer than he liked.

Maybe you don’t know everything about her.

“I’m ending this call,” Simon added casually, as if the conversation bored him now.

“Wait,” Damon cut in quickly, his tone sharper. “Have you seen Eric Bjorn in the city?”

There was a brief silence.

Then Simon responded, more thoughtfully this time. “Yeah, actually. He showed up at a charity gala a few nights ago. Made quite the impression, from what I heard.”

Damon’s expression darkened.

Eric Bjorn.

Even the name was enough to sour his mood completely.

“How so?” Damon asked, his voice quieter now, controlled.

Simon let out a small hum. “Big donation. Huge, actually. People are talking about it. He’s getting a lot of attention.”

Of course he is, Damon thought bitterly.

That was Eric-always making grand gestures, always positioning himself where people would notice.

Damon leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping slowly against the desk. A creeping unease settled in his chest, something he couldn’t quite shake.

“If you hear anything,” Damon said finally, his tone turning cold, “tell my wife to stay away from that bastard.”

Simon didn’t respond immediately.

When he did, his voice carried a hint of curiosity. “You sound worried.”

“I’m not worried,” Damon replied sharply. “I’m being cautious.”

“Right,” Simon said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

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Chapter 137

Damon’s patience wore thin. “Just pass the message if you can.”

Another pause.

“Sure.” Simon said at last. “If I happen to see her.”

The line went dead soon after.

Damon lowered the phone slowly, his mind racing.

Unanswered calls.

A sudden leave approval.

And Eric Bjorn appearing in the same city.

None of it felt like coincidence.

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He stood up and walked toward the window, his eyes scanning the skyline as if searching for answers hidden among the lights.

Something was happening.

And whatever it was-he was already one step behind.

Damon had never liked silence.

Not this kind.

The kind that stretched too long… that pressed in on your chest and made every second feel heavier than the last.

Lila’s silence.

Call after call-ignored.

Message after message-unread.

It wasn’t just distance anymore. It felt deliberate.

Damon dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion finally catching up to him. His tie hung loose around his collar, his sleeves rolled up, but none of it made him feel any less suffocated.

“I need answers,” he muttered.

And there was only one person left who might help-whether he liked it or not.

Mark.

Mark’s room was exactly how Damon remembered it-dark, enclosed, alive only through artificial light.

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Multiple monitors flickered across the walls, casting shifting reflections across the room. Lines of data scrolled endlessly. A single study lamp glowed at the corner of the desk, barely enough to soften the harsh blue light.

Mark sat hunched over his keyboard, fingers moving rapidly, almost mechanically. His focus was absolute- switching between screens, checking his phone, typing again.

He didn’t even notice Damon enter.

Not until-

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“Don’t just stand there like a statue,” Mark snapped suddenly, not even turning fully. “You’re going to give me

a heart attack.”

Damon exhaled quietly.

Mark didn’t wait for a response. His attention had already snapped back to the monitors.

One screen stood out.

Cindy.

A live feed-grainy, but clear enough. She sat somewhere unfamiliar, unaware she was being watched.

Damon’s eyes lingered on the screen for a moment before shifting back to Mark.

He hesitated.

That alone felt foreign.

Then, softer than usual-almost uncertain-

“Hey… Mark,” Damon said.

Mark froze.

Not visibly at first-but his fingers slowed, just for a fraction of a second.

“Can you, uh…” Damon continued, choosing his words carefully, “tell my wife I really need her to stop rejecting my calls?”

Mark slowly turned his chair, staring at him.

There was something deeply unsettling about this version of Damon.

No sharp edges.

No authority.

No command.

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Just… softness.

Mark’s brows furrowed. “Can you not talk to me like that?” he said flatly.

Damon blinked. “Like what?”

“Like that,” Mark repeated, gesturing vaguely. “It’s weird. Gives me goosebumps.”

Despite everything, Damon almost let out a dry laugh-but it died before it could form.

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Mark shook his head and turned slightly back to his screens. “And besides,” he added, “this is your fault.”

Damon stiffened. “My fault?”

Mark pointed at the monitor-at Cindy.

“For bringing that woman here.”

The words landed harder than expected.

Damon stepped forward, grabbing the nearest chair and dragging it across the floor. The sound scraped through the room as he pulled it directly in front of Mark.

He sat down, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“Mark,” he said, quieter now-but steady.

Mark didn’t respond, but he didn’t turn away either.

“I know the rumors are out there,” Damon continued. “I’ve heard them too.”

Mark scoffed under his breath.

“But you have to believe me,” Damon said, locking eyes with him. “I never slept with them. Not any of them.”

Mark’s expression didn’t change-but his silence meant he was listening.

Damon pressed on.

“And Cindy-” he glanced briefly at the monitor, “-she has information. Information I needed.”

Mark crossed his arms. “Convenient.”

“It’s not what you think,” Damon said, his voice still controlled, still calm. “Everything I did… it wasn’t for me.”

Mark’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Then what was it for?”

Damon didn’t hesitate this time.

“For Lila.”

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That made Mark pause.

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Damon leaned forward just a little more, his voice lowering-not defensive, not aggressive… just firm.

“We needed to protect her,” he said. “From something bigger than rumors. Bigger than whatever you think this is.”

Mark’s jaw tightened. “You expect me to just believe that?”

Damon held his gaze.

“She’s your sister too.”

“That one hit.

Mark looked away first, his eyes flicking back to the monitor. Cindy’s image flickered in the glow of the screens, almost like a reminder of everything that didn’t add up.

The room fell into silence again-but this time, it wasn’t empty.

It was heavy.

Complicated.

Mark exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “You always do this,” he muttered. “You say things like they’re simple… like everything makes sense if I just listen long enough.”

Damon didn’t respond.

Because for once-

He didn’t have a clean answer.

Only urgency.

Only the growing feeling that time was slipping through his fingers.

And somewhere out there-

Lila was still not answering.

The silence stretched again–but this time, Damon broke it.

“Can you tell Lila… not to involve herself with Eric?”

Mark glanced at him briefly, reading something in Damon’s expression he hadn’t seen before.

Not anger.

Not control.

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Something closer to concern.

Without another word, Mark reached for his phone and dialed.

The line rang once.

Then-

It connected immediately.

Damon’s posture stiffened behind him.

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“Lila,” Mark said, his tone shifting-firmer, more protective. “Stay away from Eric. He’s bad news.”

There was a pause on the other end.

Damon leaned forward slightly, trying to catch even the faintest sound of her voice.

“Why?” Lila asked.

Just one word-but it was enough to make Damon’s chest tighten.

Mark hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Damon for a split second.

“I’ll explain when I get back to the city,” Mark said. “For now, just listen to me.”

Another pause.

Longer this time.

Then the line went dead.

Mark lowered the phone slowly.

Behind him, Damon stood frozen, his gaze fixed, restless-like he was waiting for something more.

Anything more.

“You’re good now,” Mark said, breaking the quiet.

Damon exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders-but not all.

“Okay… thank you.”

The words felt unfamiliar in his mouth.

Mark didn’t respond. Instead, he turned back to his screens, his expression shifting back into something more focused-more analytical.

“Come here,” he said after a moment.

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Damon stepped closer.

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Mark tapped a few keys, and one of the monitors shifted-replacing Cindy’s feed with something else.

An image.

Dark. Grainy.

But unmistakable.

An invitation.

Elegant in design, but unsettling in tone. The kind of thing meant only for a very specific kind of audience.

Damon’s eyes narrowed as he read the name.

Richard Blackthorne.

A flicker of something passed through his expression.

Mark leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. “So… does this mean they don’t know he’s already dead?”

The question lingered.

Damon didn’t answer immediately.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, his voice low.

His gaze shifted downward-to the bottom corner of the invitation.

There it was.

The symbol.

A black crest.

And wrapped around it-a serpent coiled tightly around a dagger.

Damon pointed at it. “That symbol,” he said. “That’s the one Cindy told me about.”

Mark leaned forward again, studying it more closely.

The room seemed to darken around them, the glow of the monitors casting sharp shadows across their faces.

“A black market auction,” Mark muttered. “Invitation-only… tied to a dead man… and marked with a symbol connected to whatever Cindy knows.”

He let out a slow breath.

“This just keeps getting better.”

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Damon’s jaw tightened.

“No.” he said quietly. “It means we’re running out of time.”

Mark glanced at him. “You think Lila’s connected to this?”

Damon didn’t answer right away.

But the look in his eyes said enough.

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“If Eric’s involved,” Damon said, his voice hardening again, “then she’s already closer to this than she should be.”

The monitors flickered.

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled faintly-barely audible, but enough to shift the atmosphere.

Mark stared at the invitation again, his mind already moving ahead.

“An underground auction like this…” he said slowly, “doesn’t just sell objects.”

Damon’s expression darkened.

“It sells power.”

Silence fell once more.

Heavy.

Unavoidable.

Because now, the problem wasn’t just Lila avoiding his calls.

It was something far worse.

She might be walking straight into something neither of them could control.

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