Chapter 168
Damon's POV
After returning to my room, I locked the door from the inside.
The room felt smaller now. Darker.
I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the wall.
So many years. She was just... there. Like air. I never thought about what it would be like if she wasn't.
Now she's gone. And I can't breathe.
My chest hurt. Not metaphorically. Actually hurt, like someone had carved out a piece and left the edges raw.
Mom knocked. I didn't answer.
She knocked again, softer this time. Then I heard the tray scrape against the floor outside my door.
"Damon. You need to eat."
I closed my eyes.
The scene outside the elevator kept replaying. Her face when I grabbed her wrist. The way she looked at me like I was a stranger. Worse—like I was disgusting.
"Get the fuck away from me."
Her voice was so cold. Not angry. Just... done.
I pressed my palm against my ribs, where the ache was worst.
How did it come to this?
---
The memories started coming whether I wanted them or not.
The bar incident. She came to bail me out, and I left her there, driving off in Scarlett's car.
The ski trip. I blamed her for Scarlett's injury.
The engagement party. I ran. Left her standing there alone.
Each one was a knife. And they all twisted at the same time.
The worst part wasn't even the guilt.
It was the images.
Elena with Caleb.
Her in his arms. Relaxed. Trusting him the way she used to trust me.
His hands on her waist. Her looking up at him with that soft expression she used to save for me—
I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn't help.
The images got worse.
My hands clenched into fists. This was the part I couldn't accept. The part that made me want to put my fist through the wall.
I had everything.
Our families' arranged engagement. Her quiet devotion, the way she always showed up when I needed her.
The way she used to look at me when we were kids—like I hung the fucking moon.
And I was the heir. The legitimate son. Not some bastard they locked in a tower and pretended didn't exist.
I should have won.
But I didn't.
And I had no idea how I'd managed to lose so badly.
---
By the second night, my body started to shut down.
Days of irregular eating made my body protest.
My stomach cramped. Sharp, twisting pain that made me curl into myself.
When I finally tried to stand, my hands shook so badly I had to grip the edge of the bed.
My legs wobbled. Vision blurred at the edges.
Pathetic.
I made it to the door, leaning heavily against the wall.
Mom appeared almost instantly. Her eyes were red and swollen. She'd been crying.
"Damon." Her voice cracked. "You're out. Thank God. Let me heat up some food for you—"
I didn't answer.
Dad was on the couch, scrolling through his tablet. He didn't even look up.
I walked past them both, heading for the medicine cabinet.
My hands were still shaking as I fumbled with the cap on the antacid bottle.
Behind me, I heard Dad set down the tablet.
"The three conditions I mentioned last time," he said, his voice flat. "Now it's time to keep your end of the bargain. Report to the company tomorrow, or get the hell overseas?"
I stared at the pill bottle.
"Damon."
I didn't respond.
Thirty seconds of silence. Then he laughed. Cold. Sharp.
"I see. So you're planning to hand over your inheritance to Caleb."
My grip on the bottle tightened.
"That's fine," Dad continued. "He just brought the company another major honor. The media's calling him 'the rising tech star of the Vance family.' With him around, Vance Industries won't lack for leadership."
Something in me snapped.
"I'd give it to anyone before I'd give it to him."
The words came out hoarse. Rough.
Mom rushed over. "Damon, don't get upset."
"I'm fine."
But I wasn't. My chest heaved, and a coughing fit tore through me.
Mom grabbed my arm to steady me. "You need to get your energy back—"
"Let go."
Dad stood. Slowly. Deliberately.
"You want to talk about what Caleb's done for this family?" His voice was ice. "He brought in deals worth hundreds of millions. His AI algorithm made our stock price jump eight percent in one week. Five board members have asked me to make him CEO."
"That's because I'm not in the company!" The words ripped out of me. "If I were there, those accomplishments would be mine!"
"Based on what?" Dad's voice turned sharp. "Your technical skills? Your strategic vision? Your discipline?"
He stepped closer.
"You can't even manage your personal life without creating a scandal. What makes you think you can run Vance Industries?"
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
"I'll go to the office tomorrow," I said through my teeth. "I'll prove I'm better than him. A hundred times better."
"Remember your words. Eight o'clock tomorrow morning." He turned and went upstairs.
---
The next morning, I showed up at Vance Industries headquarters.
When I asked for Dad, the secretary smiled politely. "Mr. Vance is in a board meeting. It should be another hour. "
I stood outside the conference room. Waiting..
Employees passed by, glancing at me with poorly concealed curiosity.
Some whispered.
I pretended not to notice.
An hour later, the elevator doors opened.
Caleb stepped out.
He wasn't alone. Hector and two other guys from his team flanked him, all of them holding project folders.
"Caleb!" One of the assistants hurried over. "Congratulations on the competition win!"
"Thank you."
His voice was flat. Professional. But people swarmed him anyway, offering praise, shaking his hand.
Hector grinned and joked with them. Caleb just nodded, his expression unreadable.
Then his gaze swept across the lounge.
And landed on me.
Our eyes locked.
I told myself I was here to work, but seeing Caleb, I couldn't help but recall the disgust in Elena's eyes when she looked at me. Anger began building inside me. I had to talk to him.