Chapter 6 The Slap Heard Across The Room

• The chandeliers glittered like a thousand captive stars above the grand ballroom, casting shards of gold across the marble floor. The air shimmered with perfume, laughter, and the clink of crystal glasses,but to Elena, the night had become an imaginary cage.
• Her humiliation still stung really badly. Damian had kissed Selena. Not a secret kiss hidden away in shadow, but deliberate, cruel, and in front of the very people who thrived on gossip like carrion birds. The glittering crowd had seen it all, their whispers already weaving her shame into tomorrow’s headlines.
• Elena stood stiffly at Damian’s side, the silver gown he had chosen for her suddenly feeling like shackles. Her hands trembled at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Beside her, Selena’s laughter tinkled like glass, sharp and mocking.
• “Oh, Damian,” Astrid purred, her hand brushing against his sleeve again. “You never change.”
• He smirked faintly, but said nothing as he sipped his glass of wine. The room buzzed with speculation, the atmosphere thick with curiosity. People watched them openly now,watching her,waiting for “the tragic little wife’s next humiliation.”
• “Elena Blackwood.” A woman’s voice floated behind her, just loud enough to carry. “Such a pity. She looks like a lamb at slaughter.”
• “Mm,” another voice agreed with a cruel chuckle. “Damian has always preferred women with strength. Poor girl doesn’t stand a chance.”
• Elena’s jaw tightened, blood rushing in her ears. She wanted to scream, to shatter the crystal glasses and chandeliers overhead. Instead, she lifted her chin, forcing her back straight even as her insides shook.
• She had swallowed enough silence.
• Astrid leaned closer, her lips brushing the shell of Damian’s ear as though Elena didn’t exist. “Still the same fire in you,” she whispered loud enough for Elena to hear. “But how long before this one burns out?”
• That was it.She couldn't take it anymore.
• Before Elena even realized what she was doing, her body moved.
• Her hand lifted, cutting through the perfumed air.
• KPPAAAAA!!!!
• The sound exploded in the ballroom like a gunshot.
• Gasps erupted. Glasses paused mid-air. Somewhere, a waiter fumbled a tray and crystal shattered against the marble, the sound a pale echo of what had just happened.
• Elena stood frozen, her palm still tingling. She had done it. She had slapped Damian Blackwood—across his flawless, untouchable jaw.
• For a heartbeat, silence swallowed the whole room. Damian, the man who commanded boardrooms and destroyed rivals without blinking, had been struck by his wife in front of everyone.
• The mark bloomed faintly against his skin, but what caught Elena’s breath wasn’t the physical reaction,it was his eyes.
• His icy mask had cracked. His gaze blazed with something primal, a storm of fury and… something else. Something she didn’t dare name.
• Elena’s knees wobbled, but she refused to look away. For the first time since this marriage began, she had done something he couldn’t control.
• Her voice, shaking but resolute, carried across the hall:
• “I will not be treated like a ghost in my own marriage.”
• The crowd erupted into whispers, voices buzzing like bees.
• “Did she just—?”
• “She slapped him!”
• “Damian Blackwood won’t forgive this.”
• “Maybe the little lamb has some balls after all.”
• Some smirked, delighted by the drama. Others looked horrified, as though witnessing an execution.
• At the edge of the room, Lucas Reed had just entered, his breath catching as he saw the scene unfold. His fists clenched at his sides, torn between admiration and dread. Elena’s fire thrilled him,but what would Damian do to her after this?
• Selena, of course, was radiant with wicked glee. She covered her mouth in mock shock, though her eyes glittered like a predator’s own. “Oh my, Damian,” she drawled, voice dripping with poison-sweet delight. “It seems your little wife has claws after all.”
• Her words poured gasoline on the already blazing fire.
• Damian’s jaw tightened, his head turning slowly, deliberately, until his storm-gray eyes locked onto Elena.
• She tried not to flinch, though the intensity of his stare rooted her in place. The muscle in his jaw ticked once, twice. Then he moved.
• He stepped toward her, slow and deliberate, each stride echoing with power. The crowd parted instinctively, as though the sheer force of his anger created gravity. Elena’s breath hitched as he stopped inches from her, his towering frame casting her into a shadow.
• Her heart thundered in her chest. Her palm still burned from the slap. Every instinct screamed at her to step back but she stood her ground.
• Damian raised a hand, and for a moment the crowd seemed to lean forward, breathless, expecting retribution. But he didn’t strike.
• Instead, his hand shot out to seize her wrist, pulling her sharply forward. Her body collided with his, and a gasp tore from her lips.
• The crowd erupted again, voices overlapping:
• “What is he—?”
• “He’ll destroy her.”
• “God, she’s brave.”
• Damian leaned down, his face merely inches from hers, his breath hot against her cheek. His eyes blazed with unbridled fury, but beneath it something else flickered—a dark pull and a dangerous fascination.
• “You dare,” he growled, his voice low enough that only she could hear, though the room strained to catch every word. “In front of them? You dare defy me?”
• Elena’s lips parted, trembling, but she forced the words out, each syllable shaking yet sharp: “I won’t be silent anymore.”
• His grip tightened on her wrist, his other hand sliding to her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The fire between them crackled like a live wire.
• His voice dropped, rough and dangerous, vibrating against her skin.
• “You’ll regret defying me.”
• The room buzzed with whispers as Damian straightened, still holding her close like a captor parading his prize. Elena’s chest heaved, her cheeks flushed with defiance and terror, but she didn’t look away.
• For the first time, it was no longer only humiliation burning in her veins—it was rage, power, and something dangerously intoxicating.
• The Blackwoods’ glittering ballroom had seen scandals before, but nothing like this. And tonight, the whispers of high society would not fade. They would echo. They would never forget this day.
• The slap heard across the room.