Hey readers, Don't forget to drop a comment, add to collection and vote with your power stones
The next morning, sunlight streamed softly through the thin white curtains, brushing across Elena's face. She stirred, her lashes fluttering open slowly.
Her eyes scanned the room — her room — and confusion hit her all at once. How did I get here? The last thing she remembered was lying on the couch in the living room, waiting for Damian.
She sat up, running her fingers through her tangled hair, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did he… carry me here? The thought alone made her heart skip.
Pushing the blanket aside, she got up and stretched, still feeling a warmth she couldn't quite explain. After a quick shower, she dressed in something simple and went downstairs.
The mansion was quiet — too quiet. She looked around, hoping to see Damian somewhere, maybe reading the newspaper like he sometimes did, or on a call, his deep voice echoing across the room.
But he wasn't there.
Her heart sank a little. The silence suddenly felt heavy. Where could he have gone so early?
She sat at the table for breakfast, trying to distract herself with the meal, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him — his eyes, his voice, the way he looked ather.
She hated that she missed him this much after just a few hours.
When she was done, she picked up her phone to check the time — and froze when she saw the name flashing on her screen.
Alex.
Her pulse quickened. She hadn't heard that name, that voice, in so long. For a moment, she just stared at the phone, her heart torn. Then, with a deep breath, she swiped to answer.
"Hello?"
"Elena…" His voice was the same — gentle, soft, a little broken.
She swallowed hard. "Alex… it's been a while."
"Yeah," he said, a sad laugh slipping through. "It has.
Her eyes softened. "I finally saw my aunt Alex".
It felt unreal, seeing her again after so long."
"Wow"
"I'm happy for you," he said quietly. "You deserve that."
A silence stretched between them — full of everything unspoken.
"How have you been?" she asked finally.
He hesitated. "Trying to be okay, I guess. But I can't stop thinking about you."
Her heart twisted. "Alex…"
"Elena, please," he said, his tone pleading now. "I want to see you. Just once. One last time."
She shook her head, her throat tight. "Alex, that's… risky. You know it is. I don't want you getting hurt."
"I don't care about that," he said quickly. "Please, Elena. Just a few minutes. Let me see you."
Her fingers trembled against the phone. She wanted to say yes — to see the friend who had been there for her. But deep inside, she knew it wasn't safe. Not with Damian's world, not with the eyes always watching.
"I'm sorry, Alex," she whispered. "I really don't want you getting hurt."
"Elena—"
She ended the call before he could say more.
Her hand lingered on the phone, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
For a long moment, she just sat there — eyes fixed on nothing, heart heavy with guilt and confusion.
Because even though she said it was to protect him… part of her knew the truth.
She didn't want to see Alex again — because she couldn't lie to herself anymore.
Her heart already belonged to Damian.
***
Damian sat at the long table in the boardroom. His focus wasn't really on the meeting. His mind was somewhere else, drifting to the quiet morning he left behind, to the girl probably still asleep on the bed when he'd walked out.
His phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down — Mother.
He sighed softly, earning a few nervous glances from his men. "Continue without me," he said in his deep, controlled tone, getting up and walking out.
Once outside, he answered. "Mother."
"Damian," Irina's voice came warm and elegant through the line, the kind that always tried to sound calm even when she had something planned. "I heard Elena's aunt came over last night."
He froze for a moment, his tone unreadable. "You heard already."
"Of course, Tatiana told me" she said, a smile in her voice.
"I want them to come over for dinner tonight."
He closed his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Mother, no."
"Oh, come on, Damian," she said softly, the tone shifting — that sweet, pleading way she always used when she wanted something.
"It's just dinner. I want to see you too… and I'd love to meet the woman who raised Elena. It would mean a lot to me."
"Mother—"
"Please," she interrupted gently. "Don't make me ask twice."
Damian leaned against the wall.
He could already picture his mom — waiting with that triumphant little smile when he walked in, pretending she didn't win him over with a few words.
"Fine," he said finally, his voice low but giving in. "We'll come."
"I knew you'd say yes." He could almost hear her smile.
The call ended, and Damian slipped his phone back into his pocket, staring ahead for a moment in silence.
***
Leonid sat in the dimly lit study. He swirled the golden liquid in his glass, his sharp eyes fixed on nothing in particular, lost in thought — until the door opened.
Two of his trusted men walked in, their expressions grim and cautious.
Leonid didn't look up immediately. "I hope you're not here to bring me bad news," he said in a calm, dangerous voice, one that carried quiet authority.
He cleared his throat. "We found him, sir. Damian's private investigator."
Leonid's eyes finally lifted, cold and piercing. "And?"
The man hesitated. "He… already handed the evidence over to Damian."
The glass stopped halfway to Leonid's lips. His jaw tightened, and for a long, heavy second, the only sound was the slow tick of the clock behind him.
Then, he placed the glass down carefully — too carefully.
"So you're telling me," he said softly, his tone lowering with each word, "that the little rat finished his work before you got there?"
He nodded once. "Yes, sir."
Leonid leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly through his nose. The calmness on his face was a mask — underneath it, fury burned like fire ready to consume anything in its way.
He turned his gaze toward him, his voice now chillingly quiet.
"Then we make sure he doesn't get another chance to talk."
The man blinked. "Sir?"
Leonid stood, straightening his shirt cuffs, that cruel smirk curling his lips.
"End him. The investigator. I don't want him breathing by morning."
They nodded, his men stiffening at the command.