The mansion was unusually quiet that evening.
From the upper hallway, the chief servant, Mr. Roland, watched Damon walk past with an expression he had never seen before — distracted, almost softened. The man who once lived only for contracts, profits, and power now carried something unfamiliar in his eyes.
Curiosity won.
Later that night, Roland quietly dialed a private number.
"Madam," he said respectfully when the call connected, "a young lady visited Master Damon today."
On the other end, Damon's grandmother sat upright immediately.
"A lady?" she repeated, excitement flooding her voice. "You mean a real woman? Not a business partner?"
"Yes, Madam. She stayed for dinner… and Master personally welcomed her."
The old woman gasped dramatically.
"At last," she whispered. "My stubborn grandson is finally human."
Inside his bedroom, Damon leaned against the window, staring at the city lights. Emily's scent still lingered faintly on his sheets. Every memory of her replayed endlessly — her nervous eyes, her trembling hands, the way she tried to remain strong despite fear.
He heard soft footsteps behind him.
Emily stood near the doorway, uncertain, waiting for permission to speak.
Damon turned slowly.
His gaze darkened with possession.
"Tell me something," he said calmly. "Do you want to be my personal maid… or my personal girlfriend?"
Emily froze.
The question felt heavier than any contract he had ever offered.
Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears.
He stepped closer.
"My possession," he added quietly. "That's what you are becoming."
Silence stretched between them.
She hesitated — not because she didn't understand, but because part of her already knew the answer.
"…Your personal possession," she whispered finally.
Damon studied her face, satisfied.
"Good," he said simply.
Then, as if nothing monumental had happened, he gestured toward the door.
"You may go. Your work is finished for tonight."
His tone returned to calm authority.
"Goodnight, Emily."
The next morning, Damon's phone rang repeatedly.
He sighed before answering.
"Grandmother."
"I want to meet her," she announced immediately. "Your girlfriend."
Damon rubbed his forehead.
"Grandmother—"
"No excuses! Bring her to me. Today if possible. I refuse to die without seeing the woman who captured my grandson's heart!"
He smirked slightly.
"Just give me a little time," he replied. "You'll see her soon."
But she refused to back down.
"I must see her," she insisted dramatically before hanging up.
Across the city, Emily prepared to leave for the hospital.
Exhaustion clung to her body. Between school, work, fear, and secrets, sleep had become a luxury she barely remembered.
At the hospital, relief finally arrived.
"The surgery was successful," the doctor announced with a warm smile. "Your sister can be discharged tomorrow."
Emily nearly collapsed from gratitude.
Tears filled her eyes as she thanked him repeatedly.
But as she turned toward Catherine, dizziness suddenly overwhelmed her. The world tilted.
Her vision blurred.
"Emily?" Catherine called.
Emily collapsed onto the hospital floor.
When she woke, Catherine sat beside her, worried.
"You scared me," her sister said. "You've been pushing yourself too hard."
Then came the question Emily feared.
"Where did you get all that money?"
Emily forced a weak smile.
"…Hospital assistance and loans," she replied quickly.
Catherine didn't look convinced, but she said nothing more.
Some truths were too heavy to demand.
The following day, Clara was discharged.
Joy filled their small family again.
Emily walked them home, cooked for them, helped them prepare for school, and watched them leave with smiles she had fought desperately to protect.
For a moment, life almost felt normal.
Meanwhile, Damon sat inside his office, completely distracted.
Files lay untouched before him.
Josh noticed immediately.
"You look possessed," Josh teased. "is it her?"
Damon leaned back, exhaling slowly.
"She's different," he admitted. "Since I returned from the UK… no woman ever stayed in my thoughts like this."
Josh raised an eyebrow.
"You're serious."
"I can't stop thinking about her," Damon said quietly. "It's… unsettling."
For the first time, the powerful CEO looked uncertain.
At school, Emily also struggled to focus.
Every lecture blurred into memories of Damon — his voice, his touch, the intensity in his eyes.
She realized something terrifying.
She wasn't just dependent on him.
She was beginning to crave him.
That evening, Damon's grandmother called again.
This time her voice sounded dramatic and emotional.
"If you don't bring that girl to meet me," she declared, "I might as well prepare my funeral!"
Damon laughed softly despite himself.
"Alright, Grandmother," he said. "You win."
He looked out the window, already imagining Emily standing beside him.
"It's time you met her."