In the car, he called his assistant. “Find her. Find out where she went.”
Twenty minutes later, he called back.
“Sir, the Madam has erased her identity. We can’t trace her location.”
Vincent froze.
Everything he thought he could handle… all the pain he believed he could bear–crumbled.
Erasing my identity meant I’d given up everything.
Including him.
No. No!!
I was his wife. I had no right to disappear without his permission! I barged into his world. I insisted on staying by his side. I had no right to just… leave!}
His eyes burned as desperation crept into his voice.
“Find her. I don’t care what it takes find her.”
–
116 PM
Chapter 12
The car that came to pick me up finally pulled smoothly into the Whitmore estate. There he was–Damian–waiting at the front steps, arms crossed, with that familiar look of exasperation on his face.\
“Andrea, what the hell happened to you? You look like you just crawled out of a war zone or straight out of hell,” he said the second I stepped out.
I knew I looked like a disaster. The miscarriage had left me pale and weak and my body hadn’t had the chance to recover. The rough bandage around my hand, still faintly seeping blood from where the broken urn had sliced me, only made me look even worse.
I was a complete mess, head to toe.§
I tried to force a smile, but it came out crooked.
I had actually known Damian long before I ever met Vincent. Back when I was first brought into the Leighton Family, when everything was still new and strange. I remembered the day vividly–Isolde’s birthday party. Damian had shown up with his family, scowling like someone had dragged him there at gunpoint. Isolde tried making small talk, but he couldn’t have looked more bored.
I’d whispered to one of the maids that he had zero manners – and of course, he heard me. That led to our first argument, which turned into years of sniping at each other every time we crossed paths. We had this natural talent for getting under each other’s skin. People often joked we were like oil and water.
But then, the night I decided to marry Vincent, Damian had been drunk–completely wasted. He held me tightly, slurring, “If Vincent ever treats you badly… if you ever regret it… you call me. I’ll come get you.“>
I laughed then, so sure of myself. “I love Vincent. I’ll make him love me. We’ll be happy.”}
Five years later, here I was–beaten, broken, crawling back to him for help.
Damian clicked his tongue. “If I’d known leaving would end up with you like this, I never would’ve left to expand the business.”
I tried to play it cool, shrugging. “Well, at least you get to enjoy seeing your favorite nemesis looking like absolute crap. I’m sure you’re loving this.”
He narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed. “Loving it? If anything, it pissed me off. And don’t joke if you suck at making jokes. It’s not funny!”
His bluntness made my fake smile freeze right there on my lips. §
Without another word, he grabbed my suitcase and led me inside.§
The Whitmore estate made Vincent’s Blackthorne mansion look like a starter home. Grand, elegant, absolutely over–the–top. Damian
guided me upstairs.§
–
“I had the master bedroom redone for you,” he said. “If there’s anything you don’t like, tell me I’ll have it fixed.“}
He paused. “I’m in the guest room next door. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
I stepped inside and my breath caught. It was perfect. Every single detail was exactly my taste. Honestly, it was even nicer than the master bedroom I’d once had back at Vincent’s.
My throat tightened and tears welled up in my eyes.}
Apparently, Damian noticed it, because a second later he said, panicking, “Is it that bad? Shit, I should’ve known.”>
“Just tell me what you don’t like and I’ll fix it, okay? Don’t cry.”}
That’s just how Damian is. He totally freaks out whenever I cry. No matter how nasty our fights got, the second I even started tearing up, he’d fold like a cheap lawn chair.”
Seeing him standing there looking like he was about to get ambushed by an army, I let out a soft chuckle.
“I’m not gonna cry, Damian.” I added, “Thank you.” }
He exhaled in relief, then scowled. “Don’t thank me. I hate when you thank me.“>
Of course, I thanked him again knowing full–weel it’d irritate him.§
He clenched his jaw, grinding his molars. If this were years ago, he’d have barked back with some snarky retort. But now, he just let out a long, dramatic sigh.
“You’re unbelievable.”
The warmth in his voice caught me off guard. That familiar teasing affection–it felt strange after so long.
Desperate to change the subject before I got emotional, I cleared my throat. “So… about that job you promised me. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?“}
Damian looked me up and down, giving me that once–over only he could pull off without saying a word.
“You? Like this? I’d probably lose my entire fortune in a week if I let you handle business right now.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he didn’t even let me.”
“Sit,” he ordered, gently pushing me down onto the bed. “Work can wait. I’m holding the position for you. Right now, your job is to get better.”
I tried to protest, insisting I was perfectly fine to start working, but he cut me off again.
“I already hired a nutritionist and a private chef for you. Don’t make me waste my money.”
Then he added, “But I’m not letting you laze around completely. While you’re recovering, I’ll start briefing you on the company. We’re not in the States, Andrea. The culture here’s different. You need to learn how things work. Once you’re ready, you’ll take your role properly. Got
