Five
"Power isn't just about winning, it's about making sure they know you can't be beaten."
Damian's POV
I had expected defiance.
From the moment Trina Sinclair walked into that dinner, her chin lifted in quiet rebellion, I knew she would fight this arrangement. It wasn't just in the way she spoke to me—sharp, cutting words laced with venom—but in the way she held herself, like a woman ready for war.
She wanted me to know she despised me. She wanted me to feel uncomfortable, to flinch under her glare, to show even the slightest hint of weakness.
I didn't.
Instead, I enjoyed watching her push, waiting for the moment she realized I wouldn't break.
This wasn't about love. It wasn't about romance. It was business. And in business, control was everything.
I glanced at my reflection in the window, the city skyline sprawling behind me. The world outside moved in predictable patterns—power plays, strategic alliances, controlled chaos. I had spent years mastering those patterns, manipulating them to my advantage.
Trina Sinclair thought she could disrupt that.
She was mistaken.
A knock at my office door pulled me from my thoughts. Nathan, my assistant, stepped inside, carrying a folder and a tablet.
"The contracts for the merger, sir."
I took the folder but barely spared it a glance. My mind was elsewhere. "And?"
Nathan hesitated. "There's been… some media attention."
I finally looked up. "Of course there has."
He placed the tablet in front of me, swiping to the first headline.
Socialites and Sharks: Damian Blackwood's Surprise Engagement to Trina Sinclair
The image beneath it was from last night's dinner—me, composed as ever, my expression unreadable. Trina, on the other hand, wasn't hiding her emotions at all. Her eyes were full of fire, her lips pressed into a tight, irritated line.
It was almost comical, the way the article framed us:
Me: The cold, calculated businessman forcing a woman into marriage.
Her: The trapped socialite, clawing for an escape.
I smirked. "She doesn't hide her emotions well."
Nathan cleared his throat. "She also doesn't seem too interested in playing the role of the devoted fiancée."
"Good," I murmured, scrolling down.
The press had done what they always did—turned a business deal into a scandal. It didn't bother me. What did interest me, however, was what Nathan pulled up next.
He hesitated, swiping to a second article.
This one was worse.
Trina Sinclair's Silent Rebellion: Will She Break the Blackwood Deal?
I exhaled sharply, reading the first few lines.
Trina had spent the morning in public, making a very deliberate display of her independence.
Shopping alone.Dining with friends.
Laughing for the cameras.
She was telling the world she wasn't the quiet, obedient woman people expected her to be. That she wasn't submitting to this marriage.
She was making a statement.
She wanted me to react. To push back. To show my hand.
Amusing.
Nathan shifted on his feet. He wasn't stupid—he knew I didn't take kindly to challenges, especially not public ones.
"Should we issue a response?" he asked carefully.
I leaned back in my chair, studying the article again. The way Trina carried herself, the effortless way she turned herself into a symbol of resistance... She wasn't just defying me. She was enjoying this.
She wanted to get under my skin.
I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.
"Make it neutral," I said finally. "Express how 'excited' we are for the engagement."
Nathan nodded, but his hesitation lingered. "And Miss Sinclair?"
I smirked, tapping my finger against the screen where her face stared back at me—head high, eyes full of challenge.
"She wants a war." My voice was smooth, deliberate. "Let's see if she can handle one."
By the time I left the office, the media storm had already taken a life of its own. News anchors debated whether the engagement would last, gossip columns speculated about how soon Trina would 'escape', and social media was flooded with opinions on how 'unfair' the situation was.
It was amusing, really.
None of them understood how this world worked. Marriage wasn't about feelings. It was about strategy, power, and maintaining the Sinclair and Blackwood empires.
Trina knew that.
She just refused to accept it.
As I stepped into my car, I made a decision. If she wanted to play games, I would remind her who she was dealing with.
I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Find out where Trina is right now."
Nathan didn't even ask why. Within minutes, I had my answer. An upscale rooftop bar, drinking with friends.
Perfect.
The moment I stepped into the bar, I spotted her.
Trina was seated at a high-top table, a glass of wine in her hand, her lips curved into an easy smile as she leaned into the conversation around her. She looked effortless, like she belonged in the spotlight.
And yet, the second her eyes met mine, the carefree act shattered.
The air shifted.
Her fingers tightened around her glass. Her shoulders tensed, just slightly. She wasn't expecting me to show up.
Good.
I didn't hesitate. I crossed the room in measured, deliberate strides, the crowd parting as I approached. Her friends noticed first, their chatter dying into hushed whispers.
"Trina." My voice was smooth, controlled.
She took a slow sip of her wine before setting it down with careful precision. "Damian."
I pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, uninvited. "Enjoying your night?"
She tilted her head, studying me. "Immensely."
Her voice was sweet, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.
A challenge.
I smirked. "Glad to hear it. The press seems to think otherwise."
Her lips twitched, but she didn't let the smile fully form. "The press thinks a lot of things. Not all of them are true."
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice just enough so only she could hear. "Then tell me, Trina. Are you running, or are you just making a scene?"
She didn't flinch, but I saw the slight shift in her expression the flicker of something dangerous in her eyes.
"I don't run," she said softly.
My smirk deepened. "Good. Then stop acting like you do."
For a second, neither of us spoke. The air between us was tight, charged, filled with an unspoken challenge.
Then, she picked up her wine again, took a slow sip, and set it down. "You're awfully bold, Damian. Coming here unannounced, interrupting my evening."
I leaned back, casual. "I like to keep you on your toes."
She exhaled a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it. Just understanding. A silent acknowledgment that we were playing the same game now.
"Then let's see if you can keep up," she murmured walking toward the dance floor. It sure seemed like she was trying to get away from me.
And just like that, the battle had truly begun.
I looked her straight in the eyes. I could sense the uncertainty in them. I had an effect on her. She tried to move away, but I pulled her closer. If the press wanted something to write about, I would definitely give them something.
"What are you doing?" She asked glaring at me like I grew an extra head.
I smiled. She was probably confused as hell. "Nothing, I'm just getting to know the soon to be Mrs Blackwood." I answered.
"Then get to know me away from me, you creep. I don't know what your plan is but whatever it is don't rope me in." She said trying to wiggle her way out of my arms.
Not happening. I held on tighter, she was slowly starting to realise she was going no where.
"Don't even bother trying to get away from me, Catherine. This is for both of us so ,be a good girl and just go with the flow. Remember, I still determine what happens from here on." I said with a tight lipped smile pressed on my face.
Her silky dress felt velvety and soft in my arms. She looked up at me with an expressionless look. Every other person would think we were definitely in love but I knew better.
We both knew better.
She finally whispered as the song was coming to an end. " I hate you, Damian with all my heart. I hate the fact that I'm stuck in this with you. I would do everything to make sure you regret this so bad, you wait and see."
If I cared I would have been hurt but it didn't matter, I just needed this marriage to go through. She could hate me for all I care.
It was better if she did . I couldn't afford the liability of having a woman fall in love with me. This was the plan right?
But why did her words pierce my heart so bad?