The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

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When Lila arrived at the airport, the familiar buzz of the crowd barely registered.

Her eyes immediately found her brother, Mark, standing by the exit, holding a small bouquet of flowers. Relief and warmth flooded her chest.

“Lila!” he called, his voice cutting through the noise, and she didn’t hesitate. She ran toward him, arms wide.

They embraced tightly, and for a moment, all the weight of the past years-the hardship, the humiliation, the heartache of playing Damon Blackthorne’s wife-seemed to melt away.

It had been difficult, exhausting, and sometimes unbearable, but now, in this moment with her brother, she realized every challenge had been worth it. Every sacrifice. Every careful word. Every private pain endured.

Mark pulled back slightly, his hands still on her shoulders, searching her face. “You okay?” he asked softly, concern lingering in his tone.

“I am,” she said, smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks. “I really am.”

After a pause, Mark tilted his head, a teasing spark in his eyes. “And your husband? How’s Damon?”

Lila’s smile softened, though it carried a quiet finality. She shook her head slightly. “Mark… we’re divorcing.”

Mark didn’t even try to hide his relief.

The moment she said divorcing, something in his posture eased-like a storm he had been bracing against had finally passed.

“Thank God,” he breathed out. “You finally woke up.”

Lila looked at him, half amused, half tired.

“That man doesn’t deserve you,” Mark continued, his voice tightening. “I don’t care how powerful he is.”

They walked side by side toward the parking lot, the evening air cool against their skin.

“You think I didn’t see it?” Mark went on. “The headlines. The gossip. Him leaving hotels late at night. Those rumors about escorts. High society whispering like vultures.”

Lila’s steps slowed slightly.

“I hated it,” Mark admitted. “Hated how they attached your name to his mess. ‘Damon Blackthorne’s wife.’ Like you were just… decoration. Like you didn’t have your own identity.”

His jaw clenched.

“They made you look like a fool.”

Silence stretched between them.

Chapter 31

Then Lila stopped walking.

“I wasn’t a fool,” she said quietly.

Mark immediately softened. He turned to her fully.

“No,” he corrected firmly. “You weren’t. He was.”

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There was no hesitation in his voice-only the fierce protectiveness of a brother who had watched from afar, helpless, as the world dissected his sister’s marriage for entertainment.

“I don’t care about his empire,” Mark added. “Or his name. Or his money. If he made you feel humiliated even once, he doesn’t deserve to stand next to you.”

Lila swallowed.

All the nights she stood alone at events.

All the calculated smiles.

All the restraint.

All the pretending.

She had endured it for a reason.

And maybe… it had been worth it.

But that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.

“It’s over,” she said at last, her voice steady now. “And I’m okay with that.”

Mark pulled her into another hug-this one tighter, grounding.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because my sister was never meant to live in someone else’s shadow.”

And for the first time since she left the city-

Lila truly felt like herself again.

They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the city lights outside softer here-less ruthless than the ones she had left behind.

Mark kept one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually near the gearshift. But his jaw was still tight.

“Why did you marry that jerk in the first place?” he asked finally.

Lila stared out the window.

The passing streetlights reflected faintly in her eyes.

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Chapter 31

“I was in love with him,” she said simply. “That’s all.”

Mark didn’t question it further.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know about the contract.

About the negotiation disguised as romance.

About the clause that protected Damon’s public image.

About the money.

He didn’t know that she had signed her name not just as a wife-but as collateral.

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Their parents had died when Mark was still too young to understand what loss truly meant. Relatives who once smiled politely at gatherings had suddenly grown distant, unwilling to take on responsibility.

Lila still remembered standing at their parents’ graves.

The wind had been cold that day.

She had promised them she would take care of Mark. No matter what.

And she had meant it.

She finished her degree the hard way-working part-time jobs, chasing scholarships, sleeping barely four hours a night. She knew what it felt like to count coins before buying groceries. To choose textbooks over meals.

She had sworn her brother would never experience that kind of struggle.

Never.

So when the opportunity came-when Damon Blackthorne offered a contract marriage with a financial arrangement generous enough to secure Mark’s education, his future, his comfort-

She signed.

Not because she was weak.

Not because she was foolish.

But because she was a sister.

And she would always choose him.

Mark glanced at her again.

“You really loved him?” he asked more softly this time.

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Lila’s lips curved faintly.

“I did.”

And maybe… part of her still did.

But that was a truth she would carry alone.

Because some sacrifices were meant to stay buried.

They passed by a small supermarket on the way home.

“Hungry?” Mark asked.

“Starving,” Lila replied, and for once, the answer had nothing to do with emotion.

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They parked, grabbed a cart, and walked through the aisles like they used to years ago-debating brands, arguing over snacks, slipping unnecessary desserts into the basket.

Lila chose fresh vegetables and meat. Mark insisted on ice cream.

“Graduation privilege,” he defended.

Back at Mark’s apartment, Lila tied her hair up and slipped into the kitchen naturally, as if she had never left this life. The familiar rhythm grounded her-chopping vegetables, stirring soup, seasoning meat by instinct.

Mark stood beside her, clumsily helping.

“You’re cutting that wrong,” she said.

“I’m a programmer, not a chef,” he shot back.

She laughed softly.

The sound felt lighter than anything she had heard from herself in weeks.

They talked while cooking-about old neighbors, university gossip, professors Mark couldn’t stand. The small things. Normal things.

Then Mark grew more serious.

“I’m planning to stay,” he said. “Not take a corporate job immediately.”

Lila glanced at him. “Oh?”

“I want to start my own studio. Tech development. Small team first.” His eyes lit up when he spoke about it. “I’ve already built a few apps during my free time.”

Lila leaned against the counter, listening carefully.

“One of them,” he continued, growing more animated, “is an accounting and management app. It’s designed

Chapter 31

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for small businesses-simplified interface, automated financial tracking, integrated reporting. Affordable. Most small business owners can’t afford complex enterprise systems.”

He grabbed his laptop and opened it quickly, showing her mockups.

“It’s not fully launched yet,” he admitted. “But it works.”

Lila watched the screen, impressed.

“You built this alone?”

“Yeah. Backend, frontend, database architecture.”

There was pride in his voice-but also hunger.

“I’ll need investors though,” he added more quietly. “To scale. To hire a small team. Market it properly.”

Lila looked at him thoughtfully.

“You’ll get them,” she said calmly.

Mark smiled, but there was doubt beneath it.

Investors weren’t easy to find.

Not without connections.

Not without capital.

Lila stirred the pot absentmindedly.

In the back of her mind, she knew something Mark didn’t.

She had access to rooms filled with men who invested millions without blinking.

Men who trusted the Blackthorne name.

Men who would listen if Damon spoke.

But that bridge…

She wasn’t sure she wanted to cross it again.

For now, she simply smiled at her brother.

“Let’s eat first,” she said gently. “We’ll conquer the world tomorrow.”

11:43 Mon, May 4