The CEOs Bride II
When Eva left, the room fell silent except for the faint hum of Damien's computer. Without a word, Damien reached for a folder and slid it across the desk toward Eric.
Eric opened it, and froze. It was Eva's resignation letter. His brows knitted in surprise. Shewants to leave?
"Eva asked to resign," Damien said calmly. "But I didn't agree."
Eric's frown deepened. Didn't agree?
Before he could respond, Damien picked up another folder and tossed it his way. "Also... there's been a new development."
Eric skimmed the first page, and all the color drained from his face.
"Make it public," Damien said, his voice as casual as if he were ordering coffee.
Eric's jaw slackened. "Sir... is this real? These are,these are legal marital documents between you and, Miss Eva?" His hands trembled as he flipped through the folder, each page heavier than the last. Then he saw it, the marriage certificate, Damien's signature bold at the bottom, and a photo of them standing together at the registry. His stomach dropped. It was like a bolt of thunder cracked straight through his chest.
"Sir," he stammered, "This is a joke, right? Please tell me you didn't just marry Miss Eva."
"I did," Damien replied, unblinking.
"Oh no. No, no, no..." Eric ran a hand down his face. "Sir, another reckless move? Have you already forgotten everything that happened with Tyler? We came here so you could heal, so you could get her out of your head, not to create an even bigger mess!"
"Eva is not Tyler," Damien said firmly. "And I have healed. I don't think about Tyler anymore. My obsession with her is gone. This worked."
"Worked? Sir, this could be another Tyler saga waiting to happen!" Eric's voice rose, frustration bubbling over. "Miss Eva is a walking red flag. First, she has a boyfriend. And not just any boyfriend, but a criminal, part of a mafia group! He's already threatening to start a war because he suspects you have feelings for his woman. And your answer to that was to marry her?"
Damien's gaze didn't waver, but Eric pressed on.
"Second, how well do you really know her? This is another impulsive decision, and one day it's going to sink us. Third, she was about to marry him, and you just, swooped in and took her? Fourth, I'm almost certain she's not even on board with this. Does she like you, sir? Or is this just another case of you forcing yourself into someone's life because you think your love can fix everything? First Tyler, now Eva. Neither of them seems to want you the way you want them. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why they keep hurting you, I mean, it's common sense, you're definitely setting yourself up to get burned. Again."
When Damien remembered the scene, Eva slipping off her shoes and bolting away from him, he let out a quiet gasp. She really did tried to run from him, it was obvious she didn't want the union.
Eric, still pacing, pressed on. "Boss, you're a man of class. A prestigious figure. You don't need to chase a woman. Women should be the ones trying to win you over, falling at your feet, desperate for your attention. Like Seraphina. She'd worship the ground you walk on. She loves you without conditions. That kind of love doesn't betray you, not like someone who feels absolutely nothing for you."
Damien just stared at him, expression unreadable. Never betray me? The words echoed in his head, almost comical. He thought of Seraphina again, and the fact that she had been sleeping with Eric behind his back. He scoffed, brushing the thought away.
Eric tried again. "Marriage is a serious commitment, Boss. Not something to trifle with. What am I supposed to tell Ma'am Eleanor? And Seraphina, have you even thought about how she's going to take this?"
"Seraphina?" Damien's voice was cool. "I don't have any business with her. I'm just trying to fix my life. She should fix hers."
"Sir, don't be like this. Seraphina has been in love with you since college. She's devoted years of her life to you. Can't you think about her feelings for once?"
Damien's jaw tightened. "She liked me for years, but I never asked her to. All she's ever done is force herself into my life. Back in college, she was practically a stalker. Now she's back after twelve years to... what? Continue making my life hell? I don't want her. I've told her that over and over, but she doesn't care. Why should that be my burden? I'm not her first love, and I know she's dated other men all these years. So why am I the only one she's fixated on?"
"Maybe because she really does love you?" Eric asked softly.
"I don't love her."
"B-but why? She's beautiful, comes from a good family, she's also good in..." Eric stopped himself before finishing the sentence, but the meaning hung in the air. She's also good in bed. Damien's lips curved in a cold scoff.
"Whatever she is doesn't interest me. Maybe she's perfect for someone else, but I want nothing to do with her."
Damian's gaze hardened and his voice was firm. "And I'm not a child, Eric. I know exactly what I'm doing. Life itself is a risk, a gamble, and even if I'm wrong a second time, I'm willing to take it. I call this my last trial at love. As for Victor, I can handle him. He's no threat to me. So trust my judgment."
Eric's shoulders stiffened. "Sir, I've never doubted your judgment. You're one of the wisest men I know. But, impulsive decisions don't always end well. I'm just trying to help you avoid another Tyler."
Damian gave a small, humorless laugh. "Thanks for the concern. But the bottom line is this, Eva Myles is now my wife. So you'd better start being nicer to her. And whatever she's not doing right, I'll handle it. You can go now."
That final line left no room for debate.
Eric hesitated, words dying in his throat, then bowed slightly. "Yes, sir." He was halfway to the door when he remembered the thermos in his hands.
"Oh, sir. She asked me to give you this. Said she was late for work and didn't have time to cook anything else, so she made noodles."
Damian's eyes lifted, sharp. ""Noodles? Didn't you tell her I disapprove of noodles?"
Eric: "She's aware, sir."
"Whatever," he muttered, waving Eric away without looking up from his computer.
Eric set the thermos on the desk and made for the door.
"And, Eric," Damian's voice stopped him. "I don't need to remind you to keep her identity quiet. Even from my mother."
"I understand," Eric replied calmly, and left.
The moment the door clicked shut, Damian's fingers froze on the keyboard. He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair.
"Eva... Eva, Eva. Who exactly are you? And why on earth am I... doing all of this?" Damian muttered under his breath, his expression clouded with confusion.
His gaze drifted toward the thermos sitting on the desk. For a moment, he just stared at it, almost as if it might answer his questions. Finally, he reached for it, curiosity tugging at him. Maybe she was joking, he thought, surely she didn't actually make noodles for him.
But the moment he twisted the lid open, a warm, savory aroma escaped, curling into the air and straight into his senses. Noodles. He muttered a curse under his breath, already tempted to snap the lid shut in irritation.
Then something caught his eye. The dish wasn't plain, far from it. It was beautifully garnished, with soft golden eggs, chunks of tender lobster, and slices of perfectly seared meat. The meat looked especially inviting, and he decided he might as well just eat the protein.
But one bite turned into another, and another. One bite later, he was chewing slower than usual, eyebrows raising. Then another bite. And another. Before he knew it, he wasn't picking out the protein anymore, he was eating the noodles themselves.
"...Huh." His lips curled faintly. "This... isn't so bad."
Another forkful disappeared. And another. "Does every noodle taste like this? Or is it just hers?" The more he ate, the more absurd it seemed that he'd been missing this all these years.
By the time he stopped, the thermos was empty.
That was exactly when Eric came back to grab a file he'd forgotten, and froze in the doorway.
Damian was just swallowing the last bite.
Eric's eyes widened like he'd just seen a ghost. "What_?! You ate noodles?!"
A slow smirk tugged at Damian's lips.
Eric shook his head in disbelief. "I'll be damned..."
As for Eva, Work that day felt... off.
From the moment Eva stepped into the office, she could feel it, eyes trailing her, whispers trailing behind those eyes. Conversations that abruptly stopped when she passed. Even Cathy's desk neighbors were pretending to be absorbed in their screens, only to lean together the moment Eva turned her back.
They weren't subtle.
"She waltzes in late and the boss doesn't even bat an eye..." someone muttered.
"I heard she was absent yesterday too."
"Forget that, did you see the car she came in this morning? A Maybach. And guess whose Maybach it is?"
"No way_"
"Oh, it's way. Damien Lopez's own car."
"That means…?"
"Come on, do the math."
Their tones dripped with envy, the air practically buzzing with speculation.
Eva ignored them, though her jaw tightened. The truth was more complicated than they could possibly imagine, and she had no intention of explaining herself to people who wouldn't believe her anyway. They kept their distance, part curiosity, part jealousy, except for Cathy, who plopped into the seat beside her with a dramatic sigh.
"Hey, girlfriend. Don't even look at them. I know you, and I know you don't have the hots for the boss. Zero chemistry, nada." Cathy waved her hand as if swatting the rumors away. "Anyway, forget about that. Let's talk about this weekend. Lopez Empire is throwing a huge party for all employees, completely funded by the boss himself. It's going to be amazing."
Eva blinked. "A party? This weekend? Why?"
"No clue." Cathy grinned. "We just know Mr. Lopez is in a very good mood, and apparently there are rewards involved. And_" she leaned in, eyes sparkling, "...I've decided. I'm telling Eric how I feel about him. At the party. No more waiting."
Eva froze, her smile tight. Oh, Cathy... How could she tell her that Eric wasn't exactly a free man? Or that he might already be in a relationship, especially when she was absolutely sure that he definitely has someone he was screwing. Eva swallowed the thought and forced a gentle smile instead. "That's… exciting. I'm sure you'll look amazing."
Before Cathy could respond, Eva's phone buzzed.
📩 Meet me at the garage. I'm waiting in my car.
Her heart sank. She typed quickly:
Please don't wait, sir. You should head home. I'll go back on my own.
The reply was instant.
📩 I don't agree. Meet me now. You have five minutes.
Eva's breath caught. "Oh no..." she muttered, already shoving her things into her bag. Cathy blinked in surprise as Eva stood abruptly.
"Leaving early?"
"Yeah_uh_emergency. I'll see you later!"
She didn't give Cathy time to question it. Eva bolted from the office, her heels clicking hard against the marble before she hit the open air. She didn't head to the garage. Instead, she ran, out the gates, down the block, until she was far enough to flag a taxi.
"Hail no," she muttered under her breath, yanking her phone off. "No way I'm letting you make things worse for me."
Back home, Eva exhaled a shaky breath, dropped her bag, and headed straight for the shower. The warm water felt like a shield, washing away the tension of the day. Pajamas, blanket, bed, she was asleep before she even realized it.
Three hours later, Damien's footsteps echoed through the marble foyer. He looked every bit the storm he carried in, shoulders stiff, jaw hard.
"Where's my wife?" he asked flatly.
"In her room, sleeping," Gina said cheerfully, as though unaware of the growing heat in the air.
Damien's lips curved in something between a smile and a snarl. "Oh... nice one, Eva," he murmured through clenched teeth before striding toward his bedroom.