Damien's eyes opened to the sound of his phone vibrating against the nightstand. Morning light leaked in through the glass walls of his penthouse, bathing the room in soft gold, but the moment he glanced at the screen, that warmth turned ice cold.
Message from Mother:
You've made a mess. Bring her to the estate by Sunday. Or I will come to her myself.
A second buzz followed, this time, a missed call from Father. And another. Then a voicemail.
He played it.
"Damien," his father's voice crackled, sharp and clipped. "What have you done? Your mother is furious. The media frenzy is one thing, but dragging the Morgan girl into it without preparing the family ,without consulting us, pwas foolish. You've put us in a weak position. Call me back. Immediately."
Damien sat up, the sheets falling from his bare chest. His jaw clenched as he stared at the texts stacking up from both parents.
He ran a hand through his hair, already calculating the damage. They'd underestimated him. Again. As if he was still some reckless heir trying to prove a point.
His phone buzzed again. Another message from his mother:
She either joins the family under my conditions, or she disappears from your life. Choose carefully, son.
Damien rose to his feet and stepped out of the bedroom. Through the glass corridor, he saw Ava, still asleep on the couch. The morning light kissed her skin, softening the bruised shadows under her eyes.
She looked peaceful.
Vulnerable.
She doesn't belong in this world, a voice inside him whispered. But now she's in it. Because of you.
He glanced down at his phone again. Then typed a message.
To: Father
I'll call you once she's safe. Don't reach out to her. Not unless you want things to escalate.
He hit send, then opened another message. This time to his head of security.
>> Double her protection. Around the clock. Anyone approaches her ,friend, family, or ghost ,they answer to me first.
***
Downstairs, the elevator doors opened with a soft chime. Damien stepped out with his usual composure, dressed in black slacks and a dark gray shirt that matched the storm brewing in his mind. He poured himself a black coffee, then leaned against the kitchen island, watching Ava stir awake from across the room.
She blinked up at him sleepily, then sat up, clutching the throw blanket.
"Morning," she said, her voice raspy.
"Morning," Damien replied, tone flat but eyes scanning her carefully. "Sleep okay?"
She nodded. "I guess. You?"
He offered a humorless smile. "Not really."
Ava frowned. "What happened?"
Damien looked away, sipping his coffee. "My parents reached out. They're... displeased with how everything's unfolding. Especially my mother."
"Let me guess," Ava muttered raising her brows. "She wants to meet me?"
"She's demanding it." He set the cup down. "And if I don't bring you to her... she'll come to you."
Ava's breath caught. "So she sent those guys, didn't she? Last night."
His silence was confirmation enough.
Ava exhaled, trying to stay calm. "So what happens now? Are we going to her?"
Damien walked around the kitchen island and stood in front of her, arms folded.
"No. Not until I'm sure you'll be safe there. My mother doesn't want to meet you. She wants to measure your worth and tear you down if you don't meet her standard."
"So... she's like you," Ava said quietly.
He paused, a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes.
"No, Ava," he replied. "She's worse."