When Silence Screams.
Damien was heading out of the company, cellphone pressed to his ear as he finished up a business call. Eric trailed closely behind him, carrying his usual calm-but-alert presence.
It was closing hour, and staff were already signing out and pouring out of the building. As Damien approached the exit, he noticed a small crowd gathered near the gate, mostly female employees, gasping and giggling.
Their attention was locked onto something, or someone.
Curious, Damien slowed his pace and turned to see what had caught their eyes so fiercely.
That's when he saw it.
A sleek yellow limousine sat parked at the curb. It looked ridiculously expensive, bold in color and polish. But even that wasn't the main attraction.
No, it was the man standing beside it.
Tall. Muscular. Dressed like he belonged on the cover of a high-end fashion magazine. He wore a fitted grey sleeveless shirt that hugged his defined torso, and a pair of black designer trousers that screamed luxury. Tattoos snaked down both arms, but one caught Damien's attention, a sharp, claw-like design that wrapped around his wrist like a signature.
Around his neck hung two layers of thick, glittering chains, shining against the fading sunlight. On his right ear sparkled a stud earring, small but unmistakably expensive. And on his left wrist, a Rolex watch gleamed, classic, bold, and blinding with wealth.
He was flashy.Too flashy. Like walking temptation dipped in money and muscle.
The female employees were practically drooling. Their stares were hungry, wide-eyed, and unfiltered. It was clear, he wasn't just eye candy. He was a fantasy.
Damien was about to walk away, not interested in the spectacle, until he saw her.
Eva.
She had just stepped out as well, done for the day. The moment she spotted the man beside the limo, she froze for a split second, her eyes wide in disbelief, then immediately picked up her pace, walking past him stiffly, as if she didn't recognize him, treating him as if he weren't even there.
Then when the guy saw her, he gave a small, helpless smile. Then, loud enough for everyone to hear, he called out; "Hey you! Eva, stop right there, baby!"
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
Baby?!
All heads whipped toward Eva in shock. The man tossed the flower bouquet and fancy gift bag into the car, then chased after her like a kid chasing a balloon. Within seconds, he caught up and hugged her tightly from behind, halting her.
"What is the meaning of this?" Eva demanded, startled in a low voice.
"It's called broad daylight kidnapping Ana" He whispered into her ear with a teasing grin. "Watch me."
Without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the limo, her heels dangling mid-air, her arms pushing weakly against his chest.
The watching crowd erupted again, gasps, giggles, envy.
He placed her gently in the backseat, slid in beside her, and the limo sped off like a scene ripped straight from a movie.
Too much dog food for the eyes.
Everyone was stunned. Envious.
Confused.
Even Damien.
He stood rooted for a moment, eyesnarrowed.
That's her man? He thought grimly.
No wonder she said I wasn't her type.
She clearly liked them flashy. Loud. Intense, chains, tattoos, drama and all.
Now he understands better why he doesn't seem to catch her interest no matter what.
Now he knows better, she clearly likes them tout-like, muscular, flashy and blinding.
"Must be her type, Beauty and the Beast. The hunk and the delicate damsel. How perfectly fitting."
Damien turned away, his expression unreadable. But Eric, walking behind him, could feel the shift in the air.
It was cold. Tense. Boiling beneath the surface.
Eric's chest tightened. He knew Damien well, too well. And that silence? That calm walk? That was dangerous.
Eric's internal panic kicked in, as his heart began to race.
He could feel the storm brewing behind Damien's silence. And if history had taught him anything, when Damien Lopez got this quiet, someone, somewhere, was going to pay. There was definitely fire on the mountain.
At Home.
Damien sat at the head of his long dining table, staring blankly at the arrays of neatly arranged dishes before him. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark and stormy, he looked like a volcano on the brink of eruption. Five chefs stood by, rigid with anxiety, watching him with baited breath. Eric lingered quietly in the background, uneasy.
Damien picked up his spoon, took one bite, and immediately spat it out, disgusted. His eyes blazed as he turned to the chefs.
"What the hell is this?" he snapped. "You call yourselves professionals? Trained chefs? And none of you can replicate a simple recipe?"
One of the chefs, voice shaking, tried to explain. "We followed everything, sir.We used the same ingredients, same measurements, just as she did, we followed every pattern down to the time, We did exactly what she did. I don't understand why it tastes different to you."
"Oh really? Damien sneered, rising from his seat. "Are you doubting my taste palate? I know exactly what I tasted. It's not the same! It is not even close. And I am absolutely sure that it doesn't in any way taste like this" He shook his head, disgusted "I get it, it's pointless. You are all fired!"
He turned and stormed out of the dining room without a second glance. The chefs stood frozen, eyes wide, one of them nearly in tears. Eric sighed heavily and followed his boss out.
In the hallway, Damien's rage hadn't cooled.
"I gave you one simple task, Eric, one, and this is what I get?" he growled. "You keep sending in all manner of incompetent chefs. The video is clear, yet they can not replicate it"
"I'm sorry, sir," Eric said softly, but Damien wasn't listening. He headed straight for his study, grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf, and poured himself a glass, then downed it like water. Then another. And another.
Eric just try to stay calm seeing how pissed Damien was just because of the food matter, so he just watched, concern deepening with every glass.
Nearly ten chefs had tried today to replicate Eva's cooking but none had succeeded, But Damian seemed to be throwing things out of proportion. It was almost like it's something else that's crawling under his skin.
Especially when the pain Damien was showing seem to go far deeper than a failed dish.
"A simple meal, Eric," Damien muttered, pouring again. "And you couldn't even get that done. Maybe I've spoiled you too much. All you know how to do is sneak behind my back following Seraphina and my mother's command".
He slammed the glass down, voice rising.
"You know what? I think it's high time you go back to California. Back to them!" Eric stood quietly, his heart sinking. Damien seemed really pissed off this time. He watched in silence as Damien drained one bottle, then started on a second, then a third. By the fifth, Eric finally stepped in.
"Sir, aren't you drinking too much? I think you should slow down on the drink. And maybe eat something, even if its just a little."
"Don't talk to me Eric!" Damien said, then continued drinking, shrinking into himself. It was clearly visible that he was hurting.
Damien snapped, slumping into his chair, shoulders heavy with unspoken pain. Eric didn't. He couldn't. He stood there and watched his boss, his friend, drown in heartbreak.
Eric just stood there, staring at him helplessly. Actually, this wasn't the Damien he used to know. Damien had always been tough, composed, almost untouchable, never the type to drown his emotions in alcohol. But ever since the issue with Tyler, everything had changed.
If Eric had known that the same girl he once saw wearing oversized glasses would be the one to break Damien like this, he would've done everything in his power to stop their paths from ever crossing.
To the world, Damien was still the powerful, brilliant billionaire, charming, invincible, a man who had it all. But beneath that perfect exterior, he was broken. Wounded in ways no one could imagine.
By midnight, Damien had passed out in his study, his head resting on the desk. The dim light flickered softly over the table, now littered with empty bottles.
Eric stepped forward and gently helped him up, though Damien tried to resist.
"I'm fine," he mumbled drunkenly. "I don't need help."
But Eric didn't let go. He guided him to the bedroom and helped him lie down. Just as he was about to turn off the light and leave, Damien's voice broke through the silence, quiet, slurred, and unbearably raw.
"Eric, am I cursed?"
He suddenly said in a pathetic voice and Eric froze.
"What?" he asked gently.
"Do you think, I am cursed? I think I am cursed" Eric was shocked?" Damien whispered as a single tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
"No, why would you even think that?" Eric said.
"I feel like I am nothing. Eric, I feel so small, unwanted, I feel like a loser"
Eric stepped closer, his voice low but firm.
"You are none of those things, sir, and you know it. You are in fact one of the most powerful men on earth, handsome, rich, brilliant, successful, and in everyway the most respected men I know. You are perfect in everyway. You're..."
""Yet no one wants me. I am never good enough for the one my heart chooses. Damien interrupted. His voice cracked. "Why is it never enough? Why do I give everything, everything_ and still end up alone?"
He turned his head toward the wall. "I don't want to be any of that if it will continue to make me this pathetic. Eric, I don't want all the wealth or anything, I just want to feel loved. I want the one I want, wanting me back. Is that too much to ask?"
He paused, a deep, shaky breath escaping his chest.
""Not at all sir"
"Yet again, she chooses another over me. He seemed quite handsome, rich even. Who knows maybe that's the type Tyler also likes"
Another tear fell, and this time, Damien didn't wipe it away. He closed his eyes and whispered one last thing before sleep finally claimed him;
"I just want_ what my heart wants."
Eric stood in the doorway, fists clenched, jaw tight. He had no words, only a heavy ache in his chest as he watched the strongest man he knew crumble quietly in the dark.