Chapter 21 Damien

Chapter 21 Damien
The sight before me made my blood boil.
I watched from a quiet corner, two tables behind them, half-hidden by the dim glow of the restaurant’s amber lighting. The three of them laughed softly, the sound grating on my nerves in the worst way. They were clearly enjoying each other’s company, too much for my liking.

I rolled down the small curtain beside me, shielding myself completely from view. From this spot, I could see everything without being seen. My gaze found her instantly. The deep red color of her dress was impossible to ignore, rich, vibrant, sinful. It hugged her in all the right places, the velvet catching the candlelight in a way that made her skin glow like it was made for it.

She laughed at something Edward said, tilting her head slightly, and my chest tightened.

Her hair was pinned into a low bun, elegant yet simple, a few loose strands brushing against her cheeks in a way that made her look effortlessly beautiful. Ethereal — that’s what she was. She didn’t belong to this noisy, ordinary world. She carried herself with a quiet confidence, a grace that drew attention without trying.

Sophia’s voice carried across the room, animated as always, her curls bouncing as she spoke. But I barely noticed. My attention couldn’t stay away from Ella, no matter how hard I tried.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my jaw to relax before it locked up.
Why the hell did it hurt so much to see her enjoying herself with someone else?
I hated feeling like this, jealous, restless, completely out of control.

But I couldn’t look away.

The man sitting across from her… there was something about him that rubbed me wrong. Maybe it was the way he looked at her — casual, comfortable, like he had the right to. He leaned closer when she laughed, smiling at something she said, and it made my blood heat up again.

I lifted my phone subtly, snapping a photo of him from behind the curtain. Crisp black suit, relaxed posture, expensive watch, he looked like money. That alone told me I needed to know who he was.

Without a second thought, I sent the picture to Sebastian.
“Check this guy out. Who is he?”

My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before I hit send. My heartbeat had picked up, a low thrum beneath my ribs. If she was out with a man, I had to know who he was and if he was a threat.

A waiter passed by, laying down plates before them. The soft clink of silverware filled the air. I watched her lift a fork to her lips, tasting the creamy truffle mushroom soup. The way she smiled after that first spoonful, it was unfair how easily she could make something as simple as eating look captivating.

I clenched my hand into a fist beneath the table, forcing myself to breathe through the slow burn in my chest.

Jealousy. It clawed at me, sharp and unrelenting.

My phone buzzed. Finally.
Sebastian’s name appeared on the screen, and I opened the message instantly.

Edward Lawson. Only son and heir to the Lawson Group. His parents are real estate tycoons — rich, powerful, very well connected. He's Currently studying Business Management in Paris. He has a clean record.

I stared at the screen, jaw tightening.
That explained a lot , the quiet confidence, the way he carried himself like he was used to being obeyed. He was born into privilege, the kind that made people bow without question.

I told myself that was good news, he wasn’t dangerous, not in the way I feared. But it didn’t help. Not when I saw how easily she smiled with him, how comfortable she looked.

I watched until they finally stood up to leave. Edward held the door for her, his hand brushing hers lightly, too lightly for comfort. My stomach twisted.

My eyes followed her until she stepped into the car with Sophia. Only then did I get up to leave.

When I got home, I dropped my keys onto the table and leaned against the door, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the quiet room. It didn’t help. Nothing did.

Her laugh. Her red dress. Her glow. It was all still in my head, spinning endlessly.

I stripped off my jacket and shirt, tossing them aside before stepping into the shower. The water was warm, almost too warm, running down my back in steady streams. Steam filled the bathroom, fogging up the mirror. But even that couldn’t blur her image out of my mind.

Every drop of water sliding down my skin felt like a cruel reminder of her. The way she smiled, the sound of her voice, the ache in my chest that I couldn’t shut off.

I finished quickly, wrapping a towel around my waist and stepping out. The air felt heavy. Restless. Sitting still wasn’t an option, not tonight.

I needed to move.
I needed air.

Grabbing my keys again, I left. The cool night air hit me like a slap, clearing my head just enough. The streetlights stretched ahead, golden reflections on the wet asphalt. I mounted my bike, and as the engine roared to life beneath me, I felt a small rush of freedom.

The city blurred past — neon lights, passing cars, a streak of motion but no matter how fast I went, I couldn’t escape her.

Ella. Always Ella.

I pulled over by the roadside, cutting the engine, the sudden silence loud in my ears. My hands tightened around the handlebar for a moment before I fished my phone out of my pocket.

I didn’t even think before calling.
“Camille,” I said when she answered.

“Damien?” she yawned, her voice soft and amused. “You always call at night. Is insomnia your new thing?”

“That’s when I’m free,” I muttered.

She laughed quietly. “Sure. Where are we going this time?”

“Our ice cream joint.”

There was a pause, then a smile in her tone. “Haven’t been there in forever. Give me ten minutes.”

I ended the call, started the bike again, and rode toward the little shop tucked on the quiet corner of Park Street. The bell chimed softly as I stepped in. I ordered two cups, mint for me, vanilla for her.

When I stepped back outside, she was already there, waving with that familiar, easy grin.

“You got here fast,” I said, handing her the cup.

“I was already out,” she said, then tilted her head, studying me. “You don’t look so good. Did something piss you off?”

I gave a half laugh. “Rough night. Needed something to clear my head.”

“Let me guess,” she said, taking a spoonful of ice cream. “Girl trouble?”

I didn’t answer. Her smirk deepened.

“So it’s about a lady,” she teased. “I’ll guess… Ella?”

“What if it is?” I asked, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

“So I was right.” She chuckled. “You like her.”

“I’m madly in love with her,” I said quietly, shaking my head. “And that’s the damn problem.”

Camille’s expression softened. “Then what’s stopping you? Why not just ask her out?”

“I don’t want a relationship right now,” I muttered, staring into the melting swirl of mint.

“Why?” she asked gently.

I sighed. “Because I’m not ready. Not with everything I’m hiding.”

“Ah.” She leaned back on the bench. “Your identity. The empire you keep pretending doesn’t exist.”

“Chill, Camille. You sound like a lawyer,” I said with a small laugh, trying to dodge the truth. But she wasn’t wrong.

“You can take it slow,” she said, nudging my shoulder. “You don’t have to reveal everything at once. If she’s the right one, she’ll understand when the time comes.”

I looked at her, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to open up my heart,” I said finally, voice low.

She smiled — soft, teasing. “You’re such a lover boy, you know that?”

I chuckled. “Maybe. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

“You’re already halfway there,” she said. “If seeing her with someone else hurts this much, you’ve already fallen too deep. So go for it, Damien. And if she doesn’t want you, then it’s her loss.”

I finished the last of my ice cream, staring at the empty cup. Her words stuck irritatingly true.

“Thanks, Camille,” I said sincerely. “You always know what to say.”

“Of course. Someone has to talk sense into your dramatic self.” She winked.

We stayed there for a while, talking about everything and nothing. The city lights flickering above, the hum of passing cars, the faint scent of vanilla and mint in the air.

By the time we said goodbye, the heaviness in my chest had lifted a little. The night didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

As I rode home, the wind against my face felt cooler, gentler. I didn’t have all the answers , not yet. But one thing was clear.

I couldn’t keep watching her from afar.

Sooner or later, I had to decide.
Whether to let her go… or finally take the risk and make her mine.