CHAPTER 12: Jessica’s Arrival

Sean had known the moment he heard Jessica’s sharp, entitled voice over the phone that the evening’s peace was over. He had stood at the edge of the dining hall for several minutes, watching the silhouette of Damien and Aiden through the glass. He had seen something he hadn't seen in years:

Damien looking genuinely relaxed, even amused.

"Sir..." Sean had hesitated, almost turning back to give his boss just ten more minutes of happiness. But Damien’s eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, had already locked onto him.

"What is it?" Damien asked, his voice returning to that cold, clipped Japanese.

"Miss Jessica called," Sean reported, bowing his head. "She said she is landing in Japan tonight and will be attending the party."

"Jessica!" Damien’s fists clenched on top of the tablecloth, the fine linen wrinkling under his grip. The brief warmth that had filled the air between him and Aiden vanished instantly, replaced by a biting chill.

Aiden, who had been halfway through a piece of tempura, stopped chewing. He didn't speak the language, but names were universal. "Ugh! Who—or what—is a Jessica?" he asked, trying to sound casual despite the way his heart started to prickle with unease.

For a moment, I just kept thinking how cute he was, Damien thought, his gaze flickering to Aiden’s confused face. Don’t get me wrong, I’m just admiring him. Nothing more. His behavior is unpredictable, but he’s different from anyone I’ve ever met. Just now, he was so funny—I had to keep my cool and not laugh. Dinner has never been this enjoyable in my entire life.

But reality was a cruel host. Damien turned back to Sean, his jaw tight. "What does she want? I didn't invite her."

"She said she'll be here before the party starts, sir," Sean added, his voice low and steady.

"I wonder what Grandma is scheming this time," Damien muttered under his breath. He turned back to Aiden, forcing a small, tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Nothing. Never mind. Just keep eating."

"Are you sure?" Aiden pressed, setting his chopsticks down. "Funny enough, the only word I understood in that whole conversation was 'Jessica.' Is it what I think it is? Like... a person? An ex?"

"It’s just a word, Aiden. Not a name," Damien lied smoothly, though his heart was thundering with irritation. "More like business slang for a difficult merger. It’s nothing you need to worry about."

"Ohh, I see," Aiden said, though he didn't look entirely convinced. He glanced at Sean, who was standing perfectly still with a faint, knowing smile. "Well, that's a weird slang word."

Aiden looked back at Damien’s plate, which was still mostly full. "Not eating? You're going to get a headache if you only drink coffee and anger for dinner."

"So you care about me this much?" Damien teased, trying to shift the focus.

"Don’t flatter yourself. I just asked so the food wouldn’t go to waste. I hate seeing good wagyu sit there," Aiden replied, his voice steady even as his ears turned a light pink.

The meal ended abruptly. The playful atmosphere had been replaced by a business-like urgency. Damien stood up, signaling for the check—or rather, for Sean to handle the logistics—and they made their way out to the waiting car.

As the car glided through the neon-soaked streets of Tokyo toward the hotel where the party was being held, Aiden felt a wave of genuine nervousness. The reality of the "send-off" was hitting him. He wasn't just a guest; he was appearing as the companion of one of the most powerful men in the industry.

"Ugh… Are we really heading straight to the party now?" Aiden asked, his fingers fidgeting with his seatbelt.

"Why do you ask?" Damien replied, his eyes fixed on his tablet as he scrolled through the evening’s guest list, looking for Jessica’s name.

"Erm… I just feel… unwell. My stomach is doing loops. I don’t really feel like going," Aiden whispered, looking out at the blurring lights.

Damien finally looked up, his gaze softening as he saw the genuine anxiety in Aiden’s eyes. "Unwell? Maybe you ate too much sushi. Should we go to the hospital to check you out? I can call a specialist."

"Never mind," Aiden mumbled, shrinking into his seat. "I'm just... not a 'party' person. Especially not a 'billionaire-party' person."

Damien knew exactly what Aiden was trying to do. He saw the fear of judgment in the boy’s eyes, but he also felt a selfish, burning desire: he wanted to show Aiden off. He wanted the world—and especially Jessica—to see that his heart wasn't as empty as the tabloids claimed.

"Take us to the hotel," Damien ordered firmly to the driver. "And Aiden? You look better than anyone else who will be in that room. Just stay by my side."