Chapter 56 57

Chapter 56 57
Chapter Fifty seven.

Damien._

I was driving home from Tess’s apartment, the soft hum of the engine the only thing filling the otherwise silent night. The streets were nearly empty, a sharp contrast to the pain that twisted inside me. 

Tess had been quiet after I told her what the doctor said. Her eyes, usually so full of life, had clouded over with a mix of fear and sadness that made my heart ache, she tried to hold back the tears, but I could see her struggling. 

All I could do was hold her close, trying to be her rock in the storm that was brewing around us but she couldn't hold in further, as she pushed me away and went into her room.

I had barely gone a few miles when my phone rang. Glancing at the screen, I saw it was Helen's father. 

The man’s name was enough to bring a bitter taste to my mouth, but something about the late hour made me uneasy, so I answered.

"Damien," his voice boomed through the speaker, too loud for the confined space of my car. "Come over to the house. Now."

His tone brooked no argument, but I still hesitated. "Is something wrong?"

"Just get here," he snapped, and the line went dead.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, a curse slipping from my lips. This was the last thing I needed tonight, but there was no way out. 

I turned the car around and headed to Helen's father's mansion, my mind racing with possibilities. 

When I arrived, the house was eerily quiet. The butler let me in with a nod, leading me to the study where Helen’s father was already waiting. 

The room smelled of rich leather and expensive whiskey, a scent that seemed to match the man’s imposing presence. He was standing by the bar, pouring himself a drink when I walked in.

"Oh Damien," he said, not looking up from his task. "Drink?"

"No, thanks," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. I wanted this over with. "What’s this about?"

He took a long sip of his drink before finally turning to face me. His eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to be weighing something in his mind. 

Instead of answering, he began talking about the stock market, the weather, and some business deal that had gone south recently. 

I tried to follow, but the conversation seemed so out of place, so disconnected from the urgency of his call, that I found myself growing impatient.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Why did you call me here?" I asked, my frustration seeping into my voice.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked over to a chair, sinking into it with a sigh. 

He motioned for me to sit as well, but I stayed standing. Something wasn’t right, and the tension in the room was beginning to suffocate me.

"You know," he began, his tone suddenly serious, "when Helen was born, I had all these dreams for her. I wanted her to have the best, to be with someone who could take care of her, provide for her, someone worthy of her after her father had taken care of her, I want a man for her."

I frowned, unsure of where this was going. "What are you getting at?"

He ignored the question, continuing as if he hadn’t heard me. "But life doesn’t always work out the way we want, does it? Sometimes, we have to make choices we don’t want to make."

The cryptic and parables only fueled my growing irritation. "Enough with the riddles. What’s this really about?"

He looked at me then, a strange gleam in his eyes. And that’s when he said it, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.

"You’re going to marry my daughter, Helen," he said, his voice calm, almost casual. "And that will be happening In two days."

For a moment, I just stared at him, too stunned to respond. Then, the shock gave way to anger. "You’ve got to be kidding me," I said, taking a step back. "I’m not marrying Helen. I’m not interested in marrying her, and she sure as hell isn’t interested in marrying me or having anything to do with me."

He chuckled, a low, menacing sound that sent a chill down my spine. "I figured you’d say that." He took another sip of his drink before continuing, "But here’s the thing, Damien. This isn’t a request. It’s a requirement."

I turned to leave, not wanting to hear another word. But his next words stopped me cold.

"If you walk out that door, I’ll pull out of your father’s company, his legacy that he left behind for you and your brothers take care of, I’m the biggest shareholder, Damien. If I pull out, your father’s company goes bankrupt, and only I know just how close it is to collapse."

I froze, my hand hovering over the doorknob. My father’s company was his life’s work, the legacy he passed down on to me. 

If it went under, it would destroy his image and legacy. I clenched my fists, anger boiling just beneath the surface. ‘How dare he use my family’s business as leverage?’

Without another word, I stormed out of the house, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing the rage he’d caused. I needed to think, to clear my head. 

There was only one place I could go.

Xavier’s house was a modern fortress, all glass and steel, perched on a hill overlooking the city. I parked the car and made my way inside, the cool air a stark contrast to the heat of my anger. Xavier greeted me with a raised eyebrow, sensing immediately that something was wrong.

"George is on his way," I told him as I stepped inside. "We need to talk."

Xavier poured me a drink as we waited for George. It wasn’t long before he arrived, his expression one of concern. The three of us had been friends since college, and they both knew something serious was up.

I told them everything, about the call from Helen’s father, the threat to my father’s company, and the ultimatum to marry Helen. As I spoke, I could see the shock and disbelief on their faces.

When I finished, Xavier leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the glass in his hand. "So, what are you going to do?" he asked, his tone annoyingly casual.

"What do you think I’m going to do?" I shot back. "I’m not marrying Helen, that’s for sure. But if I don’t…"

"The company goes under," George finished for me, his brow furrowed in thought. "It’s a hell of a situation, Damien."

Xavier, however, seemed unusually calm. "Don’t marry her."

Both George and I turned to him in surprise. "What?" I asked, not sure I’d heard him right.

"Don’t marry her," Xavier repeated, his voice firm. "You’re not in love with her, and she’s not in love with you. You’ll both be miserable. Besides, what about Tess? And your child?"

His words hit me harder than I expected. Tess. My mind flashed back to her tear-filled eyes, the fear in her voice when she asked what would happen to our baby.

The thought of leaving her, of abandoning her and our unborn child, was unbearable.

"Xavier’s right," George said slowly, nodding in agreement. "You can’t marry Helen. It would be wrong—for you, for her, and for Tess."

I didn’t respond right away, my mind racing. They were right. I couldn’t marry Helen, not when my heart was with Tess, not when our child’s future was at stake. But the consequences…they would be devastating.

"We’ll figure something out," Xavier said, as if reading my thoughts. "There has to be a way to save the company without sacrificing your happiness. We’ll find it."

George nodded in agreement, but I could see the doubt in his eyes. None of us had any real plan, but I appreciated their support. At least I wasn’t alone in this.

I left Xavier’s house with my mind still in turmoil, my thoughts spinning in a million directions. 

The drive home was a blur, my hands gripping the wheel as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. When I finally pulled into my driveway, the weight of the situation came crashing down on me.

I needed to talk to Tess. She deserved to know what was happening, what we were up against. I pulled out my phone and called her, but there was no answer. 

I tried again, and then again, but still nothing. The longer it rang, the more anxious I became.

After what felt like hours, I gave up, tossing the phone onto the couch in frustration. Panic was setting in. 

‘What if something had happened to her? What if the stress of everything had taken a toll on her and the baby?’

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, pouring myself a generous glass. I drank deeply, trying to drown the worry and fear that had taken root in my chest. But no matter how much I drank, the knot in my stomach only grew tighter.

Eventually, the alcohol started to take effect, blurring the edges of my thoughts. I stumbled to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed with my clothes still on. 

The room spun around me, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was for the pain and fear to stop, just for a little while.

Sleep finally claimed me, dragging me down into a dark, dreamless void.

___________________

The Next Morning_

When I woke the next morning, my head was pounding, a dull, relentless ache that made me groan in pain. 

The events of the previous night came flooding back in a rush, and I felt a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with the hangover. 

I dragged myself out of bed, ignoring the way the room spun around me, and got ready for work.

I arrived at the office in a daze, my mind still clouded from the alcohol and the overwhelming weight of the situation. I needed to see Tess, to make sure she was okay. 

My heart pounded as I picked up the phone and dialled her number again, but the same unnerving silence greeted me. Tess still wasn’t answering.

Frustration and worry gnawed at me as I put the phone down and called the front desk. "Send Tess to my office," I ordered, trying to keep my voice steady despite the panic that threatened to take over.

There was a brief pause before Leah, one of Tess’s colleagues, responded. "Good morning sir, Tess isn’t here."

"What do you mean she’s not here?" I snapped, the anxiety in my chest growing. "She’s supposed to be in.”

“She called in this morning," Leah said, her tone softening as if she could sense the storm brewing in me. "She asked for a leave.”

A cold chill settled over me, the kind that sinks deep into your bones. Tess never took leave without telling me first. We were more than just Boss and employee relationship but lovers, partners, tied together in more ways than one. 

And now, with her absence, everything felt off-kilter.I muttered a thank you and hung up, but the words of gratitude felt hollow. 

My mind was already spiralling into worst-case scenarios. Tess’s health, the baby…’what if something had happened? What if the stress was too much?’

I felt a huge wave of guilt deep in my gut, knowing that I was partly to blame for whatever she was going through.

Leaning back in my chair, I tried to think. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, my brain unable to focus on anything but the potential danger Tess might be in. 

A dull ache settled behind my eyes, the remnants of last night’s alcohol mixing with my current fear, forming a toxic cocktail that threatened to overwhelm me.

I stood abruptly, grabbing my keys and jacket. There was no way I could stay here, not while Tess was out there, possibly in need of help. 

I needed to find her, to make sure she was okay. My heart pounded louder and louder in my chest as I left my office, not bothering to tell anyone where I was going