The Duke's Unwa Chapter 99: Punish him so brutally

Chapter 99: Punish him so brutally

**Warning- Brief mentions of past harassment/molestation and physical violence.**

Damian noticed a flicker of deep-seated worry, bordering on fear, flash across Eilika’s face. He could feel the sudden shift in her aura, as if Sylvian’s casual remark about her absence from society had struck a hidden nerve she wasn’t prepared to defend.

"Now that we have finished our supper, we shall head back to the mansion," Damian announced. He signaled the waiter, settled the bill, and the three of them rose from the table.

Eilika led the way, her pace hurried as they moved toward the exit. As they passed through the lounge, a young nobleman and his companion stood from their table. They offered the customary greetings to the Duke and Prince, but as the man’s eyes landed on Eilika, her entire body went rigid.

She flinched as she recalled the past she didn’t want to. Without a word, she bolted for the door, not caring if Damian or Sylvian were keeping up.

"Ahh!"

A sharp cry escaped her as her heel snagged on the heavy hem of her gown. She stumbled, falling hard onto the stone pavement just outside the restaurant entrance. As she lay there, the hushed laughter of a group of women nearby drifted toward her, making her limbs begin to shiver with humiliation.

Damian was there in an instant, dropping to his knees beside her. "Eilika, did you hurt yourself?"

He tried to catch her gaze, but she kept her head lowered, her hair veiling her face completely as she shook.

Without wasting another second, Damian slipped one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, hoisting her up into a firm bridal carry. The movement was so sudden and powerful that it stunned the gathering crowd into a dead silence. Eilika gawked up at him, her breath hitching in surprise, as a single, stray tear finally escaped and rolled down her cheek.

"Ignore them," Damian murmured, his eyes flashing with a dangerous protective streak as he glared at the whispering onlookers. He held her tighter against his chest as he headed for the waiting car.

Once he had settled her carefully onto the leather seat, Damian climbed in beside her. He looked out at his cousin.

"Sylvian, travel in your own car," Damian directed. "I need privacy with my wife."

Sylvian offered a small, understanding nod, stepping back to allow Maurice to shut the car door after sliding into the front passenger seat.

Damian immediately shrugged out of his blazer and draped the warm fabric over Eilika’s trembling shoulders.

"We will be home soon," he murmured.

He reached out, his fingers steady as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her tear-stained face. He wanted to demand a name, to know exactly what that nobleman had done to cause such a reaction, but the words caught in his throat. He could feel the tremors still racking her frame beneath his coat.

Though he didn’t press her for an explanation, his jaw remained tight.

.

.

.

Eilika settled onto the recliner in her room. When she heard the soft click of the door shutting, she didn’t even look up.

"Joanna, I would like to be alone for the night," Eilika said, feeling low.

When no response came, she tilted her head back, her eyes widening as she realized it wasn’t her maid. Damian was walking toward her as he folded his sleeves up his forearms and tugged the tie from his neck, casting it aside.

"Damian?" she whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. She hadn’t expected him to follow her into her private quarters.

"Why did you react in such a manner upon seeing that man?" Damian asked. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, his hands resting on either side of him as he leaned slightly forward.

Eilika turned quiet, her gaze dropping to her lap. She felt a familiar, cold knot of dread tightening in her stomach. She was certain that if she spoke the truth, Damian would react like all the others and laugh at her.

When the silence stretched on for minutes, Damian’s expression hardened.

"If you will not speak," Damian said, "do you want me to summon him here now and ask him myself?"

"No!" Eilika refused promptly, her head snapping up, her eyes wide with genuine panic. The thought of that man being brought into the mansion was more than she could bear.

"Then, tell me," Damian commanded.

Eilika fidgeted with her fingers, wondering how to even start. Finally, she got the courage and spoke,

"Four years ago, I went to a party on my friend’s insistence. I used to think she was a friend, but she wasn’t," Eilika began. She bit her bottom lip, her thumb rubbing feverishly against her other palm as if trying to scrub away the memory.

"Jayden Willsmith. That is his name. He approached me, and I—I was naive. I thought he was actually interested in me. I forgot that no one ever truly desired me, and his kind words were enough to draw me in. He didn’t even ask for a dance; he just said he would walk me home."

"And you went with him?" Damian’s voice was low, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone.

"Yes. We took the same carriage," she whispered, the shame thick in her throat. "He started making advances toward me, and I told him it was inappropriate. I shouted at him, and when I slapped him... He grabbed my hair. He pulled it so sharply and told me that I didn’t even deserve to be someone’s mistress."

She choked back a sob, her composure finally shattering. "I know I made a mistake. I should never have stepped into that carriage."

Hot tears streamed down her face, and she buried her eyes in her palms, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.

Damian’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white, a cold, predatory fury flooding his mind. He had expected a story of a jilted lover or a social slight, not this, not a physical violation of the woman who now carried his name. Seeing her break down like this caused a sharp ache in his chest, a sensation he couldn’t name but found impossible to ignore.

He stood up from the edge of the bed and took two long strides toward the recliner. Without a word, he reached down and gently but firmly pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him through her tears.

"Eilika, you made no mistake. If anyone, it was that bastard, who molested you. And I am not going to let him live in peace. I will punish him so brutally that it will scare his upcoming generations, too," Damian affirmed.