The Billionaire's Retribution

Chapter 8: A Threat

Davina had just arrived home after a long day at work. Exhaustion consumed her every muscle and bone as she collapsed onto the couch in her penthouse apartment.

"These lawyer duties are draining. I'm exhausted," she said, feeling overwhelmed.

Attempting to rest her eyes briefly before preparing dinner, Davina's plans were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

"Hopefully, someone has important business with me," she mused aloud.

Davina opened the door to find Marcel dressed formally, indicating that he had come straight from work. Without saying a word, she ushered him into the penthouse apartment. Marcel surprised her as she poured water into a glass, embracing her from behind.

"We've been engaged for two years. Isn't it time we set a wedding date?" he asked, refusing to release his hold on her.

Davina couldn't help but express her disbelief. "Do you truly want to marry me?"

Marcel gently kissed her neck, responding, "Of course I do. You're the best."

Turning to face him, Davina wrapped her arms around Marcel's neck. "Why the sudden desire to discuss marriage? I thought you were unsatisfied with your career as a finance director."

Marcel enveloped her waist with his arms, urging her to forget about work. "Let's just focus on getting married."

"But what about Camille?" Davina questioned.

"I only toyed with her briefly. I have no interest in her anymore."

Davina couldn't dismiss that Marcel had spent two years with Camille. "Two years of playing around with her is not insignificant. There's no way you were never attracted to her." Feeling hurt, she removed Marcel's hand from her waist and distanced herself from him.

"We agreed to be engaged, but I refuse to be your wife no matter how long I wait. I also won't stop you from entertaining other women. Just know that I will never marry you."

In anger, Marcel forcefully grabbed Davina's hand and pulled on her shirt collar. "You wretched woman. I merely complimented you, and yet you have become arrogant?"

Davina let out a dry, mocking laughter as her eyes filled with disdain. "Wouldn't it be better if you married Camille? You two are so compatible. You're no different from Camille or any stray dog out there."

Marcel's left hand tightly grasped the collar of Davina's shirt while his right hand swiftly rose and delivered a forceful slap that knocked her to the floor. Davina could feel a sharp pain in the corner of her lip, torn by Marcel's blow. This was not the first time Marcel had treated her this way.

"Keep your damn mouth shut, you bitch!" Marcel's words seethed with anger as he continued to lash out verbally.

"Explain this!" he demanded, throwing a couple of photographs at Davina. The images captured Davina and Damian at a pub, their identities concealed by the dim lighting and Damian's nerdy appearance.

"What do I need to explain? We didn't hug or kiss," Davina retorted.

Closing the distance, Marcel whispered forcefully, "I told you not to meet other men and never dare to betray me."

Davina pushed Marcel away from her. "If you can have affairs, then why can't I?"

"I can, but you can't," Marcel replied, yanking Davina forcefully and kissing her lips.

Davina struggled to break free from Marcel's grip. As his lips finally released hers, she slapped him in disgust.

"Don't you dare touch me with those filthy lips!" she exclaimed, casting him a disgusted glance.

Unwilling to accept being slapped, Marcel retaliated with an even more brutal blow. Fascinated, he threw objects across the room, causing chaos and destruction. Some of the items struck Davina, resulting in injuries to her body.

"Stop this madness, Marcel. Let go of me, and let's end all of this," Davina pleaded, her voice growing weak.

"Run away if you dare. You already know the consequences if you decide to leave me," Marcel threatened Davina.

Marcel pressed forward, his steps determined, as Davina instinctively stepped back, desperately trying to create some distance between them.

"This won't work. You’d better kill me," Davina choked back tears, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and resignation.

"I prefer it this way, you know. It adds a certain thrill. A quick death would be far too simple for you," Marcel retorted, a slight smirk on his lips.

Forcefully, Marcel pulled Davina, causing her to be trapped in his grasp. Just as Marcel was about to deliver another blow to Davina, she acted swiftly and deflected his hand. Yet, to her dismay, Marcel's other hand had now seized her neck, choking the life out of her.

"You should take notes from your best friend, Camille, on fulfilling my desires," Marcel jeered.

With malicious intent, Marcel revealed a cell phone screen to Davina, displaying a vulnerable woman lying weakly in a hospital bed. It dawned on Davina that Marcel could harm the woman remotely at his discretion.

"Touch her at your peril, you despicable creature!" Davina mustered a feeble threat, her words stifled by Marcel's firm grip around her throat.

"Marry me, or your mother's life will be forfeit," Marcel's menacing ultimatum echoed through the room, constricting Davina's ability to utter a single sound. Watching Davina's tormented expression, Marcel's lips curled into a sarcastic smile that pierced her soul.

"Stop the ventilator," Damian commanded through his cell phone, his voice cold and callous.

Desperation consumed Davina as she vigorously shook her head, imploring Damian to cease his actions. Strangely, the tightness in her chest intensified when the ventilator ceased its steady rhythm, eclipsing the suffocation she experienced moments ago at Marcel's hands.

"Are you giving up on me?" Damian's question hung in the air, laden with a sinister undercurrent. Trembling with fear, Davina repeatedly nodded, a silent plea for survival.

"Turn on the ventilator," Damian ordered, releasing his grip around Davina's throat. Uncontrollable coughs racked Davina's body as her airway struggled to function normally. At this moment, her bleeding head and bruised arm, remnants of Marcel's previous violence, paled in comparison to her immediate plight.

"You must marry me, regardless of the circumstances. Our union is inevitable," Marcel declared, his voice laced with determination.

"Promise me that you will return my mother to me if we wed," Davina beseeched, desperation dripping from every word.

"That depends solely on my mood," Marcel replied callously, leaving Davina with a heavy heart and uncertain future.

Under darkness, Davina sought refuge in a modest studio apartment across from her lavish penthouse. However, the weight of her circumstances made it impossible for her to venture far, for she felt like an invisible chain bound her legs.

Recalling the various missed calls from Damian, Davina reached for the landline phone and dialed his number. Intentionally leaving her cell phone behind in the penthouse, aware of its connection to Marcel's tracking, Davina dialed the familiar sequence of numbers she had committed to memory.

"Hello, Damian?" she uttered weakly as their call connected.

"I wanted to ask you, is Marcel the finance director of WW Technology?" Damian inquired abruptly, wasting no time.

"Yes, that is his position," Davina replied, her voice barely audible.

Confusion washed over Davina as Damian fell silent on the other end of the line. Assuming their call had been prematurely disconnected, she strained her ears and faintly overheard snippets of a conversation about corruption.

"Davina, where are you? Could you share your location with me? I'll come right to you. Let’s embark on an enjoyable endeavor," Damian urged.

Unable to respond, Davina unilaterally disconnected the call, her mind racing with fear and suspicion. Reflexively, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, taking in her disheveled state. The sight of the violent wounds inflicted upon her filled her with deep shame. Davina was adamant about keeping this situation in the dark about this ordeal, wanting to shield people from any involvement or knowledge of her suffering.

Almost a half hour passed when the landline phone unexpectedly rang for the first time, jolting Davina from her thoughts. She cautiously picked up the receiver.

"Let's meet. I have something important to disclose," Damian invited.

"We can arrange another day. I cannot see you," Davina deflected, her voice laden with weariness.

"Are you okay? Your voice sounds weak," Damian probed.

"I'm just exhausted. It's been an arduous day at work," Davina fibbed, desperate to maintain her facade.

To her surprise, a soft knock disrupted the silence outside her door. This was her secret hideaway, an address shared with no one. Curiosity overcame her caution as Davina peered through the crack in the door, seeking to identify the unexpected visitor.

A man donning glasses, a mask, and a hat entered the premises. "It's me, Damian," he announced.

From the outset, Damian had suspected this to be Davina's hidden sanctuary, prompting his wariness as he crossed the threshold. His presence today indicated his allegiance to Davina, driven by the knowledge of her fiancé's affair with Damian's ex-wife. However, he remained unaware of the precise nature of Davina's predicament.

Opening the door, Davina greeted Damian with confusion and surprise. "Why have you come?" she inquired.

"I brought you dinner," Damian replied, presenting her with a bento box from home.

Through a faint smile, Davina acknowledged Damian's gesture, and her lips still hurt from the abuse she had endured. "Please, come in. I must accept this meal you've kindly bestowed upon me, but know that it is not an invitation for conversation."

With great care, Damian arranged the food on the table while Davina swiftly draped herself in a fleece blanket, concealing the wounds that marred her body. Though Damian's arrival seemed ill-timed, the dinner he had brought ultimately saved her from starvation, a small mercy during her time of dire need.

"Isn't it too warm for a fleece blanket in spring?" Damian questioned, observing Davina's choice of attire.

"I find it comfortable," Davina replied, settling beside Damian. With unabashed enthusiasm, she began savoring the food he had brought. The mansion's chef prepared every dish. Damian couldn't help but smile at Davina's voracious appetite.

"When I'm eating, you may speak," Davina declared, interrupting Damian's thoughts. "However, once the food is gone, you have to leave. I don't care if you've finished speaking or not."

Davina's statement snapped Damian back to reality, reminding him of the purpose behind their meeting. His tone grew hesitant as he conveyed his request. "I struggle to find the right words, but I want you to assist me in seeking revenge. I need your help to actualize my plan."

Davina's focus remained fixed on her meal. Her attention only partially shifted toward Damian's words. "What do you mean?" she inquired, seeking further clarification.

"Join me in seeking retribution against Camille and Marcel. Let’s work together," Damian proposed, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.