Chapter 10

Sleep refused to come.  

Damon had been staring at the ceiling for hours.  

The city outside his penthouse windows glowed in quiet midnight light, but inside the room everything felt suffocatingly dark.  

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.  

His mother stood in the hallway.  

Alive.  

Calling his name.  

And then that smile twisted into something cruel.  

Damon dragged a hand across his face.  

His chest felt tight, like invisible fingers were squeezing his lungs.  

Across the room, Luca stood near the window, arms crossed, watching the skyline. He had barely moved since the incident hours earlier.  

“You should rest,” Luca said quietly.  

Damon laughed under his breath.  

“You think sleep is possible right now?”  

Silence stretched.  

Luca didn’t argue.  

Damon turned toward him.  

“That woman… who was she?”  

“I don’t know yet.”  

“But you have theories.”  

Luca’s gray eyes met his.  

“Yes.”  

“And?”  

“She was trained.”  

Damon frowned.  

“What do you mean?”  

“Her posture, her movement, the smoke device she used. That wasn’t random intimidation.”  

Damon sat up slowly.  

“You think she works for whoever ordered the hit?”  

“Possibly.”  

Damon exhaled sharply.  

“And now we have a message suggesting Matteo was meeting my mother before she died.”  

Luca’s jaw tightened.  

“We don’t know what that meeting was about.”  

“But you heard the recording.”  

“Yes.”  

“And?”  

Luca hesitated.  

Damon noticed instantly.  

“You think it was Matteo.”  

“I think someone wants us to think it was Matteo.”  

Damon rubbed his temples.  

“Why does everything feel like a game to these people?”  

“Because to them it is.”  

Damon leaned back against the headboard, exhaustion finally creeping into his bones.  

“I keep replaying it,” he murmured.  

“What?”  

“The night she died.”  

His voice cracked slightly.  

“I should’ve been there.”  

Luca didn’t respond.  

Damon continued quietly.  

“She told me she had something important to discuss that evening. I told her I was busy.”  

The words hung heavy in the room.  

“I said we’d talk the next day.”  

His throat tightened.  

“There was no next day.”  

Luca stepped closer.  

“That wasn’t your fault.”  

Damon’s eyes flashed.  

“You don’t get to decide that.”  

Luca didn’t argue.  

Instead, he said gently,  

“Your mind is looking for a way to blame someone.”  

“Maybe someone should be blamed.”  

Damon swung his legs off the bed and stood.  

“I want answers.”  

“And you’ll get them.”  

“When?”  

“Soon.”  

Damon shook his head.  

“You don’t know that.”  

Luca studied him carefully.  

“You’re not okay.”  

Damon scoffed.  

“My mother died. Someone impersonated her tonight. The media thinks I’m sleeping with my bodyguard. And my company’s board is starting to panic.”  

He spread his hands.  

“Define okay.”  

Luca didn’t smile.  

Instead, he reached for the phone on the nightstand.  

“What are you doing?”  

“Calling someone.”  

“Who?”  

“A specialist.”  

Damon frowned.  

“I don’t need a doctor.”  

“You’re having trauma responses.”  

“Of course I am.”  

“And they’ll get worse.”  

Damon crossed his arms.  

“You sound very certain.”  

“I’ve seen it before.”  

“Where?”  

Luca didn’t answer.  

The silence told Damon enough.  

War zones.  

Operations.  

Violence.  

Damon sighed.  

“Fine. Call whoever you want.”  

The next afternoon, the office felt colder than usual.  

Damon sat behind his desk while Luca stood near the door, watchful as always.  

A woman entered the room.  

She carried herself with quiet confidence.  

Dark auburn hair fell over her shoulders, and her sharp eyes scanned the room with subtle intelligence.  

“Mr. Moreau,” she said warmly.  

Damon stood politely.  

“You must be Dr. Vale.”  

“Yes.”  

Dr. Seraphine Vale smiled slightly.  

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.”  

“I didn’t exactly agree.”  

Luca cleared his throat.  

Damon shot him a look.  

Seraphine chuckled softly.  

“That’s usually how these appointments start.”  

She sat across from Damon calmly.  

“Your mother hired me once, you know.”  

Damon blinked.  

“What?”  

Seraphine nodded.  

“Years ago.”  

“For what?”  

“She wanted advice on dealing with powerful men who refused to acknowledge their emotional damage.”  

Damon stared.  

“That sounds like her.”  

Seraphine smiled faintly.  

“She loved you very much.”  

The words hit Damon harder than expected.  

He looked away.  

Seraphine continued gently.  

“Trauma doesn’t just come from loss. It comes from unanswered questions.”  

Damon’s jaw tightened.  

“That’s exactly what I have.”  

“Yes.”  

She studied him.  

“And the impersonation incident likely reopened those wounds.”  

Damon looked back at her.  

“How much did Luca tell you?”  

“Enough.”  

Damon glanced toward Luca.  

“You’re very talkative for a bodyguard.”  

“I told her what she needed to know.”  

Seraphine leaned forward slightly.  

“You’re surrounded by pressure right now. Corporate instability, media scrutiny, personal grief.”  

Damon laughed quietly.  

“Sounds relaxing.”  

“But here’s the real danger,” she said softly.  

“Your enemies want you unstable.”  

Damon frowned.  

“What do you mean?”  

“Fear makes powerful people easier to manipulate.”  

Luca’s eyes narrowed.  

Seraphine continued calmly.  

“If someone orchestrated the impersonation, they were studying your reaction.”  

“Testing me.”  

“Yes.”  

Damon leaned back slowly.  

“Then they succeeded.”  

Seraphine shook her head.  

“Not necessarily.”  

“Why?”  

“Because you didn’t break.”  

Damon stared at her.  

“You don’t know that.”  

Seraphine’s eyes flicked briefly toward Luca.  

“You’re still standing.”  

Damon followed her gaze.  

For a moment, the tension between him and Luca softened.  

Then Damon looked back at her.  

“What would you suggest?”  

“Two things.”  

“Go on.”  

“First, stop isolating yourself.”  

Damon raised an eyebrow.  

“You’ve seen my security situation.”  

“I’m not talking about people,” Seraphine said.  

“I’m talking about trust.”  

Damon’s expression hardened.  

“That’s difficult right now.”  

“I imagine it is.”  

“And the second suggestion?”  

Seraphine’s voice dropped slightly.  

“Look deeper into what your mother was investigating.”  

Damon’s pulse quickened.  

“You think she was onto something.”  

“I think powerful people rarely die without reason.”  

Luca and Damon exchanged a look.  

Seraphine stood slowly.  

“Our sessions can continue weekly if you’d like.”  

Damon hesitated.  

Then nodded once.  

“Thank you.”  

She paused at the door.  

“One more thing.”  

“Yes?”  

“If someone impersonated your mother, it means they knew exactly how to hurt you.”  

Damon’s stomach tightened.  

Seraphine’s gaze sharpened.  

“That means the enemy is closer than you think.”  

Then she left.  

Silence filled the office.  

Damon looked toward Luca.  

“You trust her?”  

“Yes.”  

“Why?”  

Luca shrugged slightly.  

“She tells uncomfortable truths.”  

Damon exhaled slowly.  

“I hate uncomfortable truths.”  

Luca smirked faintly.  

“I noticed.”  

Damon’s phone suddenly vibrated on the desk.  

He picked it up.  

Another unknown number.  

His chest tightened.  

“Not again,” he muttered.  

Luca stepped closer.  

“Open it.”  

Damon tapped the message.  

A short video loaded.  

It showed a dim parking garage.  

The impersonator from the night before stood under a flickering light.  

She looked directly at the camera.  

Then she smiled.  

“You should ask Matteo about your mother.”  

Damon’s breath stopped.  

The woman leaned closer to the camera.  

And whispered:  

“He knows what she discovered.”  

The video ended.  

Damon slowly lowered the phone.  

Luca’s voice was quiet.  

“Now things get dangerous.”  

Damon looked toward the window overlooking the city.  

His mind raced.  

Because for the first time, he realized something terrifying.  

If his mother had discovered something big enough to get her killed, then Damon himself might already be standing in the middle of it.    

Damon turned slowly toward Luca.  

“Tell me honestly.”  

“What?”  

“If Matteo is involved in my mother’s death…”  

His voice hardened.  

“… what happens next?”  

Luca met his gaze.  

“Then the war hasn’t started yet.”  

Before Damon could reply, his phone rang.  

Matteo’s name appeared on the screen.  

Damon answered slowly.  

“Matteo?”  

His friend’s voice sounded warm, co

ncerned.  

“Damon, I just heard about the security incident last night. Are you alright?”  

Damon’s eyes slowly lifted to meet Luca’s.  

And suddenly, one thought refused to leave his mind.  

Was Matteo checking on him or checking if the plan worked?