The Hostile Banquet

The sheer weight of Damian’s heavy, imposing body pinned Serena firmly against the mattress, squeezing the breath from her lungs. His raw, masculine heat radiated through her thin clothes, sending a genuine spike of fear straight through her chest. Her pupils shrank. Panic overtook the fake flirtation she had just attempted.

She pressed her free hands defensively against his firm, bare chest, trying to put even a sliver of space between them. "Damian Sinclair! What exactly are you doing?"

Damian’s thin lips curled. A cold, playful, and dangerous smile touched his handsome face. "What am I doing, you say?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "Why ask when you already know what I want to do?"

Serena’s throat tightened. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stared up at him cautiously. This aggressive dominance was not the reaction she anticipated from him. She forced herself to speak, her voice trembling slightly. "What exactly do you plan to do to a woman you hate? A woman who is about to become your ex-wife?"

The playful smirk on his mouth deepened, but his dark eyes remained remarkably cold. He leaned in closer, his heavy frame pressing her deeper into the mattress. "Don't tell me..." His gaze dropped to her lips before dragging back up to her eyes. "You actually think you are still a virgin?"

The air in the room thickened. They were close enough that Serena could see the individual strands of his dark eyelashes and feel his warm breath ghosting across her skin. The masculine tension peaking between them felt suffocating. Under the dazzling glare of the crystal chandelier, there was no place to hide her flustered expression.

Damian’s chest pressed heavier against her. His gaze filled with dark mockery. "Or do you genuinely believe nothing intimate has happened between us over three years of marriage?"

He aggressively lowered his head. His flawless, handsome face inched dangerously close to hers. Serena’s breath caught in her throat. She froze beneath him, her pulse racing as his lips hovered a hair's breadth away from hers. The intense anticipation gripped her, freezing her in place.

Just as their lips were about to touch, Damian abruptly pushed off the bed. He pulled away and stood up, towering over her with a sneer.

Serena lay on the pillows in a daze, her chest heaving as she tried to process the sudden shift.

"Do you genuinely believe I would ever be interested in you?" he mocked.

He turned toward the bathroom but paused, throwing a casual glance over his broad shoulder to deliver a final blow. "I forgot to tell you. For the past three years, you were always the one taking the initiative in our intimacy. You even went so far as to throw away the spare beds in the house just to physically force me to sleep in our shared room."

Stunned by the forgotten audacity of her past self, Serena could not formulate a single word. Damian ignored her shock and stepped into the bathroom. The sound of running water soon echoed through the bedroom.

Her mind reeled from the revelation, but the sheer exhaustion of the night finally pulled her under. By the time Damian walked out, towel-drying his hair, Serena had drifted off to sleep. He stood by the edge of the bed, watching her slumber. His deep-set eyes remained unfathomable in the dim light. Her amnesia changed nothing, he thought silently. She remained the same seemingly heartless woman she had always been.

At eight o'clock the next evening, Serena stepped out of a luxury car, accompanied by her assistant, Tessa. They arrived right on time for Senior Sinclair's lavish birthday party.

The grand banquet hall blazed with bright lights and lively chatter. Wealthy guests mingled in formal attire, presenting elegant manners and exchanging pleasant smiles. The atmosphere hummed with high-society grace.

Then, Serena stepped foot inside.

The very moment she crossed the threshold, the bustling hall fell dead silent. The lively ambiance vanished, replaced by an oppressive chill. Guests stopped mid-sentence. They turned their heads and stared at her with bizarre, unabashed looks of pure contempt and deep disdain. The sheer hostility radiating from the crowd felt palpable, making Serena feel deeply isolated in the grand room. It was a suffocating environment, one designed to put her in her place.

Serena frowned, her eyes flickering across the sea of judgmental faces. She leaned closer to her assistant. "Tessa, why are these people glaring at me like that?"

Tessa swallowed hard, looking nervous. "I haven't attended many of these events with you, but... the last time you went to a dinner party, you got into a public quarrel with Vivian Mercer. It made the news."

Serena remained silent, waiting for the rest.

Tessa hesitated, piecing together more humiliating fragments of Serena's forgotten past. "There was another time you were pushed into a swimming pool. You had to call me to bring you clean clothes. You claimed someone pushed you, but nobody believed you. There was no evidence to back your claim."

"What happened then?" Serena asked.

"Then... it just ended," Tessa replied softly.

"What about Damian?" Serena’s gaze hardened. "Did he ever stand up for me during those incidents?"

Tessa looked away, her tactful silence speaking volumes. "It was said... the person who pushed you into the pool was Vivian’s cousin."

A bitter realization washed over Serena. She finally understood. Damian’s loyalty always lay solely with Vivian and her aristocratic circle. Love me, love my dog. He never cared about her dignity or safety.

Suddenly, a massive commotion erupted at the banquet entrance. The heavy double doors swung wide open.

Damian walked in. He wore a tailored black suit that emphasized his broad shoulders and tall, strong physique. He exuded a cool, powerful, and utterly dominating aura that commanded the entire room. Walking intimately beside him was the stunningly beautiful Vivian Mercer.

Vivian wore a black strapless evening gown that clung perfectly to her figure. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail, highlighting her slender neck adorned with a radiant black pearl necklace. Beside Damian's sharp, eminent features, she looked like a flawless match.

The oppressive silence in the hall shattered. The crowd immediately erupted into harsh, malicious whispers, making no effort to hide their gossip from Serena.

"Look at them. Mr. Sinclair and Miss Mercer look so perfect together."

"If Serena Sterling hadn't used dirty, despicable tricks to steal the position of Mrs. Sinclair, Damian and Vivian would have been happily married long ago."

"I agree. Has she not done enough embarrassing things over the years? She clings to the status of Mrs. Sinclair and refuses to divorce him. It is so shameful."

"Keep your voice down, she is standing right there."

"Why should I? Her family's good days are long gone. She is no longer the young miss in the limelight. Yes, she is married to Damian Sinclair, but he does not like her. She has a fallen family and a loveless marriage. Other than the empty title of Mrs. Sinclair, she has nothing. How dare she show her face here?"

The vicious comments drifted directly into Serena’s ears, each word designed to tear down her pride and remind her of her social standing.

Tessa naively attempted to comfort her, anxious about Serena’s reaction. "Don't listen to them. They don't know how you and Mr. Sinclair act in private. If you were not fond of each other, how could your marriage last this long? If he did not like you, why did he marry you in the first place?" Tessa had rarely heard Serena speak of her marriage, so she lacked the grim context of their true relationship.

Before Serena could even process the humiliating spectacle unfolding in front of her, a harsh woman's voice cut sharply through the air, silencing the surrounding whispers.

"Serena! How shameless can you be?"

A young woman stepped out from the crowd, her face twisted in disgust as she glared mercilessly at Serena. She pointed an accusing finger, her voice echoing loudly across the banquet hall. "Everyone here knows the real reason Damian married you! Stolen goods remain stolen! If Vivian hadn't spent her time recovering overseas, do you think you could have paraded around as Mrs. Sinclair for this long?"

The woman took another aggressive step closer, her eyes blazing with spite. "Now that Vivian is back, I suggest you get the hell out of the Sinclair family before you end up dumped and stripped of all your dignity!"