Chapter 182
Chapter 182
Olivia's POV
Damien had been acting strange lately. It wasn't just the odd comments—his eyes lingered on me in a way that felt heavier, as if they were layered with something I couldn't quite read.
I tried to figure it out, but every time I looked too closely, he glanced away, as if he was refusing to let me see more than he allowed.
Eventually, I learned to stop meeting his eyes, to give him space. But this time was different. He had helped me in a way no one else could.
He saved Owen.
The odd part was that it should be Ethan thanking him.
But if Ethan ever found out Damien had moved Owen out of the hospital to perform his surgery safely, he'd probably twist the whole situation against him.
I straightened and looked squarely at Damien. "I really appreciate what you did. I don't even know how to repay you."
I lowered my head, thinking. "If you ever need anything from me, anything at all, you can just tell me."
Damien tilted his head, his gaze locked on my face, far too long. The longer he stared, the more uneasy I felt. I was just about to look away when his voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. "What exactly can you do for me?"
His tone was even colder than his question. My throat tightened, and whatever I meant to say vanished.
I scratched awkwardly at my cheek. "Okay, fair. I guess there really isn't much I can help you with."
In every way—in status and ability—he was leagues above me. I forced a small smile, trying to add something else, but he stopped me.
"What are you to Ethan?"
"What?" I blinked, confused.
He turned fully toward me, his eyes were like ice. There was a harsh, unmistakable irritation there. I didn't know what I said wrong. I opened my mouth, trying to form some kind of explanation, but nothing coherent came out of my mouth.
The air between us grew tense. I finally inhaled to speak, but Damien cut in first. "You and Ethan already went your separate ways. I saved his father, but that has nothing to do with you. If there's gratitude to be given, I'll take it from him, not you."
Hearing the implication in his words, I shifted my sore shoulders. "You're right, but I was the one who asked you for help. If I hadn't..."
"If you know I did it because of you," he said, stepping closer, "then don't say things that annoy me."
Damien caught my chin between his fingers, his presence radiating something sharp and cold. "I don't like you talking about Ethan in front of me. And I don't want your thanks on his behalf."
Heat rushed to my face. "I'm not thanking you for Ethan. I just—"
I froze mid-sentence as something clicked. My eyes widened as I looked at him.
He stared back, expression vague, unreadable.
I swallowed, my heartbeat stumbling. "Damien, were you jealous just now?"
His body went still. Slowly, painfully slowly, he turned his head to the side.
He looked ready to bolt. My embarrassment flared so hot my eyebrows felt like they were burning.
Why would I even ask something like that? Damien had never shown the slightest interest in me. He must have helped because of Owen. He hated Ethan—of course, he wouldn't want to hear about him.
And here I was, practically accusing him of jealousy. He'd think I was full of myself.
I scrubbed at my ears with both hands, dragging my nails down my cheeks until they reddened.
I was about to apologize for the awkwardness when Damien spoke, voice low. "Just assume I was jealous. And don't bring that man up in front of me again. If Ethan and his family ever want to thank me, it won't be your responsibility."
I wasn't sure what he meant by 'assume,' but he didn't sound angry.
Relief loosened my chest. Before he could leave, I blurted, "When will Owen wake up?"
He paused. Panic shot through me, and I hurried to explain. "You don't want me mentioning Ethan, but asking about Owen is fine, right? I'm just worried about him."
My voice shook. "I'll only ask once. I just need to know he's safe…"
"When he wakes up, I'll let you see him."
I stared at him, startled. He hadn't let me leave my room in days, yet now he'd allow me to visit Owen?
I repeated softly, "Are you sure? You're not lying?"
"When have I ever lied to you?"
He was already at the door when he turned back. He stood there for a long moment before adding, "But that depends on your recovery. If you pull the same stunt as before and sneak people into your room, I might keep you from seeing him for the rest of your life."
Damien knew exactly where to strike. Panic shot through me, and I raised both hands. "I swear, I won't let anyone in again."
He gave a short, humorless laugh and left. His silhouette disappeared down the hall—cold, distant—yet something warm flickered in my chest.
The room fell silent once he was gone. I should've rested, but sleep was impossible. My mind kept circling back to Owen after the surgery.
Was he awake yet? Was the procedure successful? Would he be angry when he saw Damien?
And what happened with Ethan? For Damien to have moved Owen so publicly, something serious must have happened. He didn't explain, but I knew Sophia had to be involved. She always was.
Damien was right—I couldn't tell Ethan. He would defend Sophia no matter what and never let Owen be moved.
I sighed as I stood by the door. I just hoped Owen would wake up soon and knock some sense into Ethan, and keep him from getting tangled up with Sophia again.
I pressed my palms together in front of me and whispered a quiet prayer.
For a moment, I felt eyes on me. A prickling sensation. I turned quickly. The door was closed. Two figures shifted in the hallway—Damien's bodyguards.
I shook my head. Probably just sleep deprivation messing with me.
The entire afternoon slipped by. I paced the room, restless. Damien had been gone for hours. He didn't say so, but I knew he must have gone to see Owen.
But with no updates, did something go wrong?
My stomach twisted with worry. A sharp cramp hit me, and I winced. Irritated, I headed for the door, yanked it open—
And nearly collided with Damien as he reached for the handle.
He froze for a second. His shoulders dropped, his brows lowered. "Already ignoring orders again?"