Dinner

Rachel POV

“Family dinner?” I repeated, staring at Mr Vance from my doorway.

He nodded. “Yes, Mrs Montrel. Young Master Leo specially requested it. He wants you there.”

I blinked. Leo never asked for something like this. We usually ate quietly in his room, just the two of us.

“Will… Damien be there too?” I asked carefully.

Mr Vance sighed. “Leo hopes so. But you know how the Boss is. He’s always busy.”

I let out a quiet breath of relief. “Alright. I’ll be down soon.”

---

The dining hall stunned me the moment I walked in.

Candles glowed softly across a long, beautifully prepared table. Warm food, spices, and a hint of fresh bread filled the air.

Leo saw me first.

“Mama! Sit here!” he laughed, patting the chair beside him.

I smiled and sat. “You set all this up?”

Leo puffed his chest proudly. “Yes! I did everything!”

Mr Vance gave a subtle eye roll. Definitely not true.

Leo leaned toward me, whispering loudly, “We just need Papa now… I hope he comes.”

I gave him a small smile, secretly hoping he wouldn’t.

And then—

The entire room stilled.

The air shifted before I even heard footsteps.

I turned and froze.

Damien entered like a shadow swallowing light.

Tall. Broad-shouldered.

The black turtleneck clung to him, accentuating the hard lines of his chest and shoulders. His dark hair was swept back cleanly, revealing the sharp cut of his jaw. And his eyes—cold, dark, unreadable—skimmed the room with quiet dominance.

He didn’t need to speak to command attention. His presence alone shifted the air.

He didn’t acknowledge anyone at first. He simply glanced at his watch with a bored, impatient flick of his wrist, as if questioning whether showing up was a waste of his time.

Before I could breathe, Leo launched himself across the room.

“Papa!”

Damien’s expression changed instantly.

A rare softness slipped through as he caught Leo effortlessly, lifting him high. Leo squealed with laughter, and Damien—Damien actually gave a quiet, low laugh back.

For a heartbeat, he looked human. Like a father.

Then his eyes met mine.

The warmth vanished.

He lowered Leo gently, placing him back on the ground. “I trust Mama Rachel has been attentive,” Damien said, his voice smooth but sharp beneath the surface.

Leo nodded eagerly. “She drew with me! And taught me about flowers!”

Damien hummed, ruffling his hair before heading to the head of the table.

I lowered my gaze. Leo returned to my side, smiling widely.

“You shouldn’t call dinner out of the blue, Leo,” Damien said as he served himself. “Your father is very busy.”

“Busy is boring,” Leo mumbled, sticking out his tongue.

I tried to eat quietly, but I could feel Damien’s gaze brushing over me again and again—heavy, measuring.

“Leo is speaking to you,” Damien said suddenly.

I flinched, looking up. Leo stared at me innocently.

“S-sorry, sweetheart. I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, Mama,” Leo beamed.

Damien exhaled sharply. “Leo planned this dinner. Be attentive. Get your head out of the clouds.”

His tone cut deeper than I expected. My fingers tightened around my fork.

“Bring it,” Damien ordered.

Mr Vance stepped forward, carrying a small box. I stared at it, uneasy.

“Open it!” Leo said excitedly.

I slowly lifted the lid.

Inside lay a ruby-red jewel necklace. The colour reminded me of blood. Of this house.

“It marks you as under my protection,” Damien said. “Wear it, and no one will dare touch you. I don’t like people touching what belongs to me… or to Leo.”

Heat flushed through my face—not from flattery, but from humiliation.

“Put it on,” Damien added. Not a request. A command.

Swallowing tightly, I fastened the necklace. It was cold, like an icy brand on my skin.

“You look beautiful, Mama,” Leo said with pure joy.

I smiled softly. “Thank you, baby.”

“Never remove it,” Damien said sharply. “If you do, there will be consequences.”

Something inside me finally snapped.

“Stop talking to me like that!” I shouted.

The entire room froze. A gasp cut the air. Silverware paused midair. Even the candles seemed to flicker lower.

Damien frowned. “What?”

“You treat me like I’m not a person!” I cried, standing. “I haven’t gone to my classes in weeks! My friends think I vanished—look!” I held up my phone, messages flooding the screen. “They’ve been worried sick!”

Damien’s eyes hardened. “I give you a comfortable life and you think that gives you the right to talk back?”

“My life doesn’t end because you said so!”

“You made that choice when you signed your name beside mine,” he said coolly. “Behave… or I’ll take some privileges away. Like that phone.”

My chest tightened painfully. “I agreed to save my father’s life,” I whispered. “Not to live like a prisoner.”

Damien stood slowly.

He didn’t shout. He didn’t rush. But the air thickened, heavy with authority and danger.

“Watch your tone, Mrs Montrel.”

Leo’s fork slipped from his hand. The tiny clatter echoed like a scream.

“Or what?” I whispered, my throat tight.

Damien stepped closer. Not touching me. Not even reaching out. But his presence was enough to crush the air from my lungs.

“Or I remind you what happens to people who defy me.”

His words dropped into the room like a blade—cold, unquestionable.

Leo’s small body went still, food forgotten. His eyes widened, confusion twisting into fear. He just stared between us, as if trying to understand how his family could shatter so easily.

A tiny, broken whisper escaped him. “Mama?”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stay.

“Enjoy your dinner,” I said quietly, my voice trembling but steady. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

My footsteps echoed sharply across the marble as I turned and walked out, leaving the silence—and Damien’s warning—behind me.

—-

Damien POV

I watched her leave, annoyance burning like acid in my veins.

Walking out of Leo’s dinner? Out of my presence?

I stepped forward, ready to follow her, to correct her—

A tiny hand tugged my sleeve.

Leo. His eyes were glassy, unsure. “Papa… did we do something wrong?”

I forced myself to kneel, softening my face despite the tightness in my chest. “No,” I said quietly. “You didn’t.”

Leo hesitated. “Then why does Mama look sad all the time?”

The question hit harder than any bullet.

I swallowed, pushing down the emotion clawing at my ribs. “It’s not like that,” I said. “The outside world is dangerous. I’m only protecting her.”

Leo hugged me tightly, his little arms warm and desperate.

I lifted him easily and turned to Mr Vance. “Dinner is over,” I said coldly. “And from now on, we monitor all of her communication.”

Mr Vance’s frown was sharp, his eyes full of deep disappointment, but I walked out before he could speak.

In the hallway, Leo rested his head on my shoulder, tired. “I want friends too…” he whispered faintly. “Like Mama has.”

My steps faltered. Something in my chest—something I didn’t want to name—pulled painfully.

“You have me,” I said quietly, staring ahead. “And Mama. And the guards.”

Leo didn’t answer. He only sighed softly—a lonely sound that felt too familiar.

By the time we reached his room, he was already asleep against my shoulder. I laid him gently on the bed, pulling the blanket over him. 

The innocence on his face tightened something in my chest, then hardened it again.

This should have been a peaceful night.

But she ruined it.

I straightened, my expression turning cold. “Walker. Nolan,” I called quietly.

Two armed men immediately stepped forward. “Follow me.”

They exchanged a glance before falling into step behind me. My jaw ticked as we walked down the long hallway of the west wing—her wing.

Every step sharpened my irritation. Her voice. Her defiance. Her audacity to embarrass me in front of my son.

When I reached her door, I didn’t knock. I never knocked.

I pushed it open.

Rachel jolted upright on the bed, eyes wide, breath catching as if she knew this wouldn’t end calmly. The guards stepped in behind me, silent, waiting.

I shut the door with a soft click.

“Stand up.”

My voice wasn’t loud—just firm enough to make the air tighten.

Her fingers gripped the blanket. “Damien, I—I’m tired. Can this wait—?”

“Stand.”

The single word sliced through the room.

She stood, slowly, warily.

I stepped closer, hand extended. “Give me the phone.”

She froze. “No.”

The refusal was small, but it was a refusal.

“Now.”

She backed away a step, shaking her head. “It’s mine. I need it—my friends—my classes—”

I snatched it from her before she could finish.

Her breath hitched. “Damien, please, don’t—”

I turned the phone over in my hand, expression unchanging. “You walk out of my son’s dinner, raise your voice at me, behave like an undisciplined stray—and you think you get to keep this?”

She trembled. “You can’t just take everything from me.”

I stared down at her, unblinking. “I can.”

I slipped the phone into my pocket. Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating.

“You won’t be leaving this room unless Leo asks for you personally,” I said calmly. “You don’t step into the hallway. You don’t speak to the staff. You don’t touch a single door without permission.”

She swallowed, voice cracking. “You’re locking me in here?”

“I’m keeping you from making stupid choices.”

Her eyes flashed with anger and fear. “You don’t own me.”

I tilted my head slightly. “You signed your name beside mine. Ownership was part of the deal.”

She flinched.

I delivered the final blow, cold and intentional. “If you try anything foolish, I’ll assume you no longer care about your father’s safety.”

Her knees nearly buckled. A quiet gasp escaped her lips.

I stepped back. “Walker. Nolan. Outside the door. No one enters. No one leaves.”

“Yes, sir,” my men said immediately.

I didn’t look at her again. I simply turned and walked out, shutting the door behind me.