Chapter 47 Did you see anything

Chapter 47 Did you see anything
The door clicked softly behind him.
For a moment, Damian just stood there in the hallway, staring at the floor.

He had done countless things in his life, killed, lied, betrayed, destroyed, all for one purpose... Revenge.

But this? This fucking thing?

Carrying the daughter of his enemy in his arms, kissing her, holding her as she cried, feeling her heartbeat against his chest... it was the most dangerous thing he had ever done.

He walked back to his room in silence. Things were changing for him. And he didn't know if it was good or bad. But definitely, Elena is happening to him.

When he entered, he didn't turn on the lights. He didn't need to. The faint moonlight was enough.

He sat on the side of the bed where she had been lying moments ago. The sheets were slightly still warm, faintly scented with her perfume. His hands clenched.

'You're losing control,' his mind hissed.
'This isn't part of the plan.'

He sighed deeply. His pulse hadn't slowed since the moment he heard her sobbing. He tried to steady his breathing, but it only came out rough and uneven.

Every image replayed in his head, the way her body trembled against his, her whisper when she said "stay," the way she curled up like she was afraid the world would collapse if she let go.

He had seen countless people cry before. He had even caused most of them. His mother, his sister, his father...
But Elena's tears... they did something to him he didn't understand.

They felt personal.

He ran both hands over his face and groaned quietly. "Damn it."

He shouldn't have let her in.

He shouldn't have touched her.

He shouldn't have let her fall asleep on him like that.

And yet, he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Damian leaned back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling. His jaw tightened. "You can't afford this," he muttered to himself. "She's the enemy's daughter. Never forget that!"

But even as he said the words, they felt hollow.

"How could he do that to her?" Damian whispered under his breath. "How could a father do that to his own child?"

He didn't expect an answer. The room stayed silent.

After a while, exhaustion dragged at his body, but sleep refused to come. When he finally closed his eyes, all he saw was her.

And then, her whisper... soft and broken:

"I miss my mother..."

Damien's eyes snapped open. The pain in that one sentence haunted him.

He knew that pain too well, the pain of losing a parent. The pain of watching someone you love die because of Victor Lancaster.

He lay there in silence for what felt like hours before the first light of dawn crept through the curtains.



Morning came too soon.

The mansion slowly came alive. Servants began to move quietly through the halls, cleaning, preparing breakfast, and arranging flowers.

Damian had barely slept.
He was standing by the window, shirt unbuttoned at the top, his hair slightly disheveled - the image of a man caught between two worlds. One hand rested on the windowsill, the other holding a cup of black coffee he hadn't drunk yet.

A knock suddenly came at the door.

He didn't turn around. "Come in." He said curtly.

The door opened, and the same maid who had distracted Caspian the night before entered. Her head was bowed respectfully, but her eyes - innocent and intelligent - flicked up to him briefly.

"Good morning, sir," she said. "I brought your breakfast."

She placed the tray on the small table near the window.

Damian finally turned, his gaze on her.

"You," he said quietly.

The maid froze slightly.

He took a step closer. "You were in the hall last night."

Her breath hitched. "Y-yes, sir."

"You saw me."

The silence stretched between them. The maid hesitated before nodding once. "I did, sir."

Damian's tone didn't rise. "And you said nothing."

"I... thought it best not to, sir." Her voice trembled slightly, but she didn't look away. "Miss Elena was crying. I couldn't let anyone see her like that. And I thought... perhaps she was safe with you."

For a brief moment, Damian didn't know what to say.

He studied her face - the sincerity there, the quiet loyalty to Elena.
Finally, he said, "You're wise."

"Thank you, sir." She hesitated, then added softly, "But you must be careful. Lord Victor... he sees everything. And Master Volkov..." She swallowed. "He was awake longer than we thought. I saw him standing by his window after you left the corridor."

Damian's eyes narrowed.
"Did he see anything?"