Christabel proved she was just as dangerous as Damien.
Not with words.
With actions.
And the world finally understood why they were meant for each other.
---
It started with a business dinner.
The kind where deals were made and enemies were sized up and alliances were forged over expensive wine.
Damien was there. Christabel was beside him. Lena was at home with the nanny.
The room was full of powerful people. Men in suits. Women in gowns. Everyone pretending to be something they weren't.
Christabel hated these events.
But tonight, she was glad she came.
---
Because she saw them.
Three men. Standing by the bar. Watching Damien.
Not the way business associates watched each other.
The way predators watched prey.
She knew that look.
She had seen it in her own eyes.
---
"Those men," she said to Damien. "Who are they?"
He followed her gaze.
"Competitors. Rivals. Men who want what we have."
"What do they want?"
"Power. Money. Revenge."
"Against you?"
"Against us."
She looked at them again.
One of them was staring at Damien with undisguised hatred.
The other two were whispering. Planning. Waiting.
"They're going to try something," Christabel said.
"Probably."
"Tonight?"
"Maybe."
"Are you going to stop them?"
He looked at her.
"I was hoping you would."
---
She smiled.
The dangerous one.
"Good."
---
The first man approached Damien at the bar.
Pretending to be friendly. Pretending to be harmless.
Christabel watched from across the room.
She saw the way he stood. Too close. The way his hand hovered near his jacket. Where a weapon might be hidden.
She walked over.
"Can I help you?"
The man turned.
His eyes were cold.
"I'm talking to your husband."
"I can see that."
"Then why are you interrupting?"
She stepped closer.
"Because I don't like the way you're looking at him."
"And how am I looking at him?"
"Like you want to hurt him."
---
The man laughed.
"You're paranoid."
"I'm observant."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
He took a step toward her.
"You should go back to your table, Mrs. Moreau. This is men's business."
She didn't move.
"I don't think you understand who you're dealing with."
"I know exactly who I'm dealing with. The wife of a killer. A woman who got lucky."
Christabel's eyes went dark.
"Luck had nothing to do with it."
---
The second man appeared beside the first.
"Everything okay here?"
"Just having a conversation."
"Doesn't look like a conversation."
Christabel looked at the second man.
Taller. Broader. More dangerous.
"Who are you?"
"Someone who doesn't like being watched."
"Then stop giving me a reason to watch."
---
The third man stayed by the bar.
Watching.
Waiting.
Christabel knew he was the leader. The one who was pulling the strings.
She walked toward him.
The first two men tried to block her.
She moved around them.
Fast.
Smooth.
The way Damien had taught her.
---
The third man didn't flinch.
"Mrs. Moreau."
"Mr...?"
"Just call me Victor."
"I don't call anyone anything until I know who they are."
"I'm the man who's going to take everything from you."
She smiled.
"Bold words."
"Bold actions."
"What actions?"
He stepped closer.
"I know about your past. The bodies. The basement. The people who disappeared."
"So?"
"So I'm going to expose you. Both of you. I'm going to make sure the world knows what kind of monsters you really are."
---
Christabel laughed.
The sound was cold.
"You think the world doesn't already know?"
"They don't know the details."
"They don't need the details."
"They will."
"No." She shook her head. "They won't. Because you're not going to tell them."
"And why not?"
"Because I'm going to stop you."
"How?"
She looked at him.
Her eyes were black.
"You don't want to find out."
---
The first man grabbed her arm.
"I think you should leave."
She looked down at his hand.
Then up at his face.
"Take your hand off me."
"Or what?"
She moved.
Fast.
Her knee connected with his groin. He doubled over. Her elbow came down on the back of his neck. He hit the floor.
The second man lunged.
She sidestepped. Grabbed his arm. Twisted. He screamed. She pulled him off balance and drove her knee into his face. Blood sprayed. He fell beside the first man.
---
The room went silent.
Everyone was watching.
Christabel stood over the two men.
Breathing hard.
Her dress was still perfect. Her hair was still perfect. Her face was calm.
"Anyone else?"
No one moved.
She looked at Victor.
"You were saying?"
---
His face was pale.
"You're crazy."
"I'm protective."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
She walked toward him.
He stepped back.
"You can't touch me. There are witnesses."
"I don't need to touch you. I just need you to understand."
"Understand what?"
"That if you ever come near my husband again, I won't stop at your men. I'll come for you. And then I'll come for your family."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
---
She turned.
Walked back to Damien.
He was watching her with something that looked like pride.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine."
"Your hands are shaking."
"I'm angry."
"I can see that."
"Are you going to stop me?"
He took her hands.
"Why would I stop you?"
"Because I just assaulted two men in the middle of a business dinner."
"They deserved it."
"They were talking about you."
"I know."
"They were planning to hurt you."
"I know."
"So I hurt them first."
---
He pulled her close.
Kissed her forehead.
"That's my girl."
---
They left the dinner early.
The car was waiting.
Damien held the door for her.
She slid inside.
He sat beside her.
"You were magnificent."
"I was dangerous."
"You were both."
She looked at him.
"There was a woman."
"What woman?"
"At the bar. Watching you. The way she looked at you..."
"What about her?"
Christabel's voice was cold.
"I don't like other women looking at you like that."
---
Damien was quiet for a moment.
"What did she look like?"
"Blonde. Tall. Red dress. The kind of woman who thinks she can take what's mine."
"She can't."
"I know."
"Then why are you worried?"
"I'm not worried. I'm warning you."
"Warning me?"
"If she touches you, I'll kill her."
---
He smiled.
"I love you."
"I know."
"I love how jealous you are."
"I'm not jealous. I'm territorial."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
The next morning, Christabel went to the gym.
Not to work out.
To find the woman.
The blonde in the red dress.
She had done her research. The woman's name was Isabella. She was a model. A socialite. Someone who had been trying to get close to Damien for years.
Christabel found her on the treadmill.
"Isabella."
The woman looked up.
"Mrs. Moreau."
"We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About my husband."
---
Isabella stopped the treadmill.
Stepped off.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do." Christabel stepped closer. "You've been watching him. Following him. Trying to get close to him."
"I'm just being friendly."
"You're being predatory."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
Isabella crossed her arms.
"You can't scare me."
"I'm not trying to scare you."
"Then what are you trying to do?"
Christabel smiled.
"I'm trying to warn you."
"Warn me about what?"
"That if you ever touch my husband, I will destroy you."
"You wouldn't."
"I would."
"You're bluffing."
"I don't bluff."
---
Isabella stepped closer.
"You think you're the only woman who can handle him?"
"I know I am."
"He needs someone softer. Someone gentler. Someone who isn't a killer."
"He needs someone who understands him."
"Like you?"
"Like me."
Isabella laughed.
"You're delusional."
"I'm in love."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
Christabel turned.
Walked away.
"Stay away from my husband."
"Or what?"
She looked back.
"Or you'll find out."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
She read her daughter a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of her favorites.
"There was a woman who loved a man," she read. "And she would do anything to protect him. Anything. Even the things that scared her."
Lena stared at her.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," Christabel said. "Bah."
---
Damien was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
She closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be fierce."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to take what's hers."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"I found the woman," Christabel said.
"What woman?"
"The one at the bar. The one watching you."
"What did you do?"
"I talked to her."
"And?"
"She won't be a problem anymore."
"How do you know?"
Christabel looked at him.
"Because I made sure."