Chapter 9 – The Past That Burns
The storm outside hadn't stopped all night. Wind howled against the villa, rain hammering the windows like a warning. Ava woke to the sound of thunder and the faint echo of voices downstairs.
Her heart raced.
She slipped out of bed, the cold floor biting at her feet, and followed the sound. Damian was on the phone, his back to her, voice low but sharp.
"No, I don't care what it costs," he said, pacing near the fireplace. "Find out who sent that message. I want names before sunrise."
A pause. Then he cursed under his breath and tossed the phone onto the couch.
"Damian?" Ava's voice came out soft, uncertain.
He turned, tension etched across his face. "Go back to bed."
"Not until you tell me what's going on."
He ran a hand through his hair — a rare sign of frustration. "There was an attempt to access our financial servers again. The signal came from a device near this property."
Her stomach dropped. "You mean someone's here?"
"Or close enough to be dangerous," he replied. "Security is sweeping the area."
Ava's pulse quickened. "This is because of me, isn't it?"
He froze. "Don't ever say that."
"But it's true," she whispered. "If you hadn't married me—"
"I'd still be fighting enemies like Catherine," he cut in sharply. "You didn't cause this, Ava. You're just caught in the middle."
His voice softened, but his eyes still burned with a storm she couldn't understand. She wanted to reach out, to pull him out of whatever dark place his mind had gone, but he turned away before she could.
---
By morning, the rain had slowed, but the tension hadn't. Damian stood by the balcony, staring at the gray horizon, lost in thought. Ava brought him a cup of coffee and set it beside him.
"You look like you haven't slept," she said quietly.
He gave a humorless laugh. "I don't sleep much."
"Why?"
He hesitated, jaw tightening. "You wouldn't want to know."
"Try me."
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he sighed and leaned against the railing, eyes fixed on the sea.
"When I was twenty-three," he began slowly, "my father's company was on the verge of collapse. He made a deal with a man named Leon Linford — Catherine's father. Leon offered to 'help' save the business in exchange for a share of Frost Corporation."
Ava frowned. "Catherine's father? You mean—"
"Yes. The same one who later tried to destroy us." His tone hardened. "Leon was ruthless. He wanted control, not partnership. When my father refused to sell him more shares, Leon leaked false reports — insider trading, tax fraud, bribery. Within months, Frost Corp was under investigation. My father… couldn't handle the shame."
He fell silent. Ava's heart tightened. "What happened to him?"
Damian's eyes darkened. "He took his own life."
She gasped softly, covering her mouth. "Damian…"
He looked at her finally, and for once, the coldness in his gaze wasn't arrogance — it was pain. "I built everything from the ashes he left behind. I rebuilt this empire with nothing but anger and precision. I swore I'd never let anyone get close enough to hurt me again."
"And Catherine?" Ava asked gently.
"She blames me for what happened to her family after her father was arrested. She's spent years trying to tear me down. Every leak, every scandal, every threat—it all leads back to her obsession with revenge."
Ava swallowed hard. "And now she's using me to finish what her father started."
He nodded slowly. "She thinks you're my weakness."
"Are you saying she's wrong?" Ava asked quietly.
He looked at her for a long, silent moment, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "I'm saying she's right."
---
The room fell still.
Ava's breath hitched. She wanted to ask what he meant, but he stepped closer, the distance between them dissolving with every heartbeat.
"When I met you," Damian said, voice low and rough, "I thought you'd be just another piece in a business arrangement. Someone I could control, predict, dismiss." His gaze softened. "But you weren't. You keep breaking through every wall I've built."
Her heart pounded in her chest. "Damian…"
He took another step, so close now she could feel the heat radiating off him. "You make me want things I can't afford to want."
"And what's that?" she whispered.
His eyes dropped to her lips. "Peace."
---
Before either of them could move, a sudden crash shattered the moment. The window by the hallway exploded inward, glass spraying across the floor. Ava screamed as Damian pulled her down, shielding her with his body.
Gunfire echoed through the house — sharp, deafening.
"Stay down!" he barked, grabbing her hand. His voice was all command now, cold and focused. "Go to the panic room. Now!"
"What about you?" she cried.
"I'll handle it."
He rose, moving toward the door with terrifying calm, gun drawn from the safe hidden behind a painting. The storm outside had returned, lightning flashing against his silhouette as he disappeared into the hall.
Ava crawled toward the safe room, her mind spinning, heart hammering. The sound of footsteps, shouts, and another gunshot echoed through the villa.
Then — silence.
She pressed herself against the steel door, shaking. Seconds felt like hours.
When the door finally opened, she gasped.
Damian stood there, rain-soaked and bleeding from a cut above his brow, but alive. "It's over," he said hoarsely. "They're gone."
Ava rushed forward, catching his face in her hands. "You're hurt—"
"I've had worse."
She blinked back tears. "You could've been killed."
He caught her wrists gently. "So could you. That's why I had to end this."
"How?"
His eyes hardened again. "By ending Catherine's game once and for all."
---
As the storm faded and dawn began to break, Ava realized something had changed. Damian Frost — the man the world called cold-hearted — had just risked everything for her.
And in the glow of the morning light, she saw what he'd been hiding all along.
Beneath the armor of the billionaire was a man still burning from a past that refused to die — and she was the only one who could cool the fire.