The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

00:01:25

Lila waited at Forest Villa, their marital home, hoping-though she refused to admit it-that Damon would arrive. The evening deepened, shadows stretching across the polished floors, the silence thick and cold.

Hours passed. No sound of tires on the driveway, no soft echo of his footsteps.

Finally, with a tight breath, she decided. If he wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him. The penthouse- the one place that had always been his domain, his sanctuary, and now, evidently, his stage.

When she arrived, the lobby was quiet, almost empty. The elevator hummed as it carried her to the top floor. She stepped into the penthouse, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the furniture, the apartment unusually still.

Her hand rested on the master bedroom door. That’s when she heard it.

A wild, unmistakable moan.

Lila froze. Her stomach churned, her throat tightened. Disgust washed over her, sharp and suffocating. She had endured much in their marriage, but this—this display, this intrusion of intimacy she had no place in— struck something raw and bitter inside her.

She withdrew her hand. She could not, would not, stay to witness it.

With a steadying breath, she walked to Damon’s office. The divorce papers lay in her bag like armor. She set them neatly on his desk, the envelope crisp and final.

Then she turned, heels clicking softly against the marble floor as she left the penthouse, leaving behind the dim light, the laughter, the wildness, and the man who had once seemed untouchable.

Outside, the night air hit her face, cold and clear. She let it wash over her, a cleansing she had needed for

years.

For the first time, she felt a small measure of freedom-not because Damon would receive the papers, not because she had acted, but because she had finally acted for herself.

She walked into the night, leaving the penthouse-and its chaos-behind.

That morning, Dina, their housekeeper, appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. “Good morning, Mrs. Blackthorne,” she said politely. “What would you like me to prepare for Mr. Blackthorne’s breakfast?”

Lila blinked, surprised. “Damon… is back?” she murmured, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk.

“Yes, Mrs. Blackthorne. He came back late last night,” Dina replied, her tone careful.

Lila’s smirk widened, her thoughts drifting. After a wild night with Maddy, no less… The audacity, the stamina. She shook her head slightly, a quiet admiration laced with disgust.

High endurance, indeed.

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Chapter 7

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She looked back at Dina, who was staring at her with puzzled eyes, clearly trying to understand the sudden expression on Lila’s face.

“Then… prepare breakfast,” Lila said finally, her voice calm, collected, and just a little sharp. “I’m not in the mood to cook for Damon today. You can handle it.”

Dina’s puzzled gaze lingered for a moment longer, clearly sensing that something had shifted. She gave a small, tentative nod and went about her work, leaving Lila alone with her thoughts-and the smirk that refused to fade.

For the first time in a long while, Lila didn’t feel obligated to perform, to obey, or to pretend. She could let Damon’s wild nights-and his high endurance-remain his concern. She had her own space now, her own rules.

And in that quiet defiance, she felt… satisfaction.

By mid-morning, the soft hum of the villa was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the marble floor. Damon descended the stairs, already in a perfectly tailored suit, his presence commanding without a word. He moved with the ease of someone who owned the space-and perhaps, in his mind, the people in it.

He slid into the chair at the breakfast table, eyes briefly meeting Lila’s with that unreadable expression she had come to know so well.

“I left something for you,” Lila said, her tone casual, almost disinterested. “In your penthouse office room.”

Damon’s gaze sharpened for a fraction of a second, then he simply nodded, as if acknowledging a trivial note on his schedule rather than a deliberate gesture from his wife.

“Understood,” he replied smoothly, reaching for the glass of water on the table.

Lila watched him, the faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. He always moved through life with confidence, with the assumption that his desires and plans were paramount. She had seen it every day for two years-and yet, there was still something about his presence that made her pulse quicken, whether she admitted it or not.

“By the way,” Damon continued, his voice clipped but controlled, “I leave today for a business trip.”

Lila’s eyes narrowed slightly, a quiet thought crossing her mind.

Of course. With Maddy.

She said nothing, letting the words hang between them. Damon didn’t wait for a response, finishing his breakfast with the same meticulous precision he applied to his work, to his life, and, seemingly, to everyone around him.

And Lila, sitting across from him, let herself feel the stirrings of defiance that had been growing quietly, persistently, for years.

For the first time, she realized she didn’t need to react. She didn’t need to obey. She simply… observed. And sometimes, that alone was enough.

11:16 Mon, May 4

Chapter 7

Lila stood by the door, adjusting the hem of her robe, her expression calm and deliberate.

ร

00:01:15

“I’ll be hanging out with Ina while you’re away,” she said plainly, her voice carrying just enough casual authority to make it clear this wasn’t a question.

Damon looked up from his breakfast, his eyes locking onto hers with a weight that made her pulse quicken— not with fear, but with quiet satisfaction. There was a meaning in that look, a warning buried beneath his usual composure.

“Behave,” he said smoothly, every syllable deliberate.

Lila arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “I’m not the type of woman who sleeps around,” she replied, cool and unwavering.

Damon simply nodded, as if her words were neither a challenge nor a surprise. “Good,” he said, with that low, unreadable tone she had come to recognize over the years.

Before leaving, Lila paused at the doorway, tilting her head ever so slightly. “Do you want me to prepare your luggage for you?”

His eyes flicked toward her, an almost imperceptible shift in his expression. “Yes,” he said smoothly, “of course. You’re the only one who knows what to prepare.”

Lila’s smirk deepened, though it was quiet this time. She turned, her slipper clicking softly against the polished floor as she walked toward the staircase, feeling a rare sense of control.

Even in their contract marriage, even under the weight of his expectations, she had carved a small space of independence. She could assert herself without defiance becoming recklessness. And for now, that was enough.

Lila was busy folding clothes in Damon’s luggage, each movement precise, methodical. The quiet rustle of fabric filled the walk-in closet, the only sound until Damon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her.

“If you don’t like me sleeping around,” he said, voice low and smooth, “and all those messages you’ve been receiving… then you can sleep with me.”

Lila froze for a heartbeat, then slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were cool, unwavering. “You’re not the type of man I like,” she said evenly. “I prefer someone gentle. Kind.”

Damon’s lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, but he said nothing.

Lila finished arranging his shirts, folded and stacked perfectly, then handed the luggage to him. Her hands brushed his as he took it, her movements deliberate, unhurried.

Then she straightened, her fingers deftly fixing the knot of his tie, tilting his chin up just slightly. Her voice was soft but carried a subtle edge, a controlled elegance that masked the mocking glint in her eyes.

“Enjoy,” she said lightly. “And take care, my dearest husband.”

Before he could respond, she leaned up and pressed a quick, deliberate kiss to his cheek, her lips curling into

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Chapter 7

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a mocking smile as she pulled back.

Damon’s eyes flicked to her lips, then back to her face, unreadable and calculating. Lila stepped back, letting him absorb her words, her gesture, her defiance-all packaged neatly with that effortless smirk.

For the first time in years, she didn’t flinch under his gaze. She didn’t perform. She wasn’t just his obedient wife anymore.

And in that brief, audacious moment, she tasted the freedom that had been building quietly for years.

18

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