Chapter 1: The Blanket

Chapter 1

The Maybach smelled like usual, something that only the elite of the elite will recognize, Wealth.

Damien Voss CEO of Voss industries, had his head against the window with his eyes closed, his hair looked like he had run his hand through it multiple times and his face said it all, dark circles from days of lack of sleep had turned him hostile, his lips were set in a grim line with his jaw clenched.

It had been three years since the accident, since the nightmares , since the insomnia, since the constant train of guilt running through him.

Three years of doctors, pills, drugs, drinks, that made his hand shake and his visions blur, but none of it worked, he'd seen more therapists and doctors than cancer patients. the guilt and nightmares didn't stop, everything felt pointless.

“We've arrived sir,”

he didn't bother answering Marcus, the constant drumming in his head and lack of sleep with the hours spent in meetings with incompetent workers left him drained.

 In the front passenger seat, Elias Kane watched his boss through the rearview mirror and said nothing. 

Two years working for the man, and he'd learned there were moods you talked through and moods you left alone. This one, pale skin, jaw so tight the muscle twitched, eyes like bruises was the second kind.

Elias was about to get down when his foot brushed something, it was a bag, the one Liora's blanket was in, without thinking much he took the blanket already half regretting it, he turned in his seat and draped it on Damien's shoulders.

“Sir, try this” he said cautiously.

Damien's eyes opened fast, glaring, irritated, the look of a man who did not like being touched and was ready to destroy whoever it was that disturbed him. Then something shifted. The scent hit him, lavender and strawberry, and whatever sharp thing was coiled behind his eyes seemed to go slack.

 "The hell is......" he started.

 He was asleep before he finished his sentence.

Elias had been working for Damien for 2 years and he had noticed a lot of things concerning his boss but this was the first time he saw him sleep, not closing his eyes and resting, but actually sleeping and deeply at that.

Three days later, 

 Elias heard the shouting from the lobby.

 He took the elevator up with his stomach already dropping. the Security met him at the penthouse doors with the specific expression of a man who wished he could be anywhere else but here. Inside, a vase was in pieces near the piano. A chair was on its side, the center table was smashed, Damien stood in the center of the living room in black sweatpants and nothing else, chest heaving, holding the blanket in both hands like he might tear it apart.

 A new hire was pressed into the corner, rigid with fear.

 "I…I.. I..washed it," the kid stuttered, his whole body was trembling. "I thought it smelled I just thought it needed"

 "You 'thought.'" Damien's voice had gone quiet, deadly calm. and That was somehow worse. "You thought you could put your hands on something that isn't yours."

 "Sir, I'll take care of this" Elias stepped forward and kept his voice flat and even, pacifying the frightened workers. "Everyone can leave."

 They went. Fast.

 He closed the doors and looked at his boss.

 Damien's eyes were bloodshot, he hadn't been to work in three days, sleep that had eluded him for years was now so easy to find, as long as he had the blanket but now….

 "I slept," Damien said. Not explaining. Just stating it, like he still didn't fully believe it. "First time in three years. And he washed it." He looked at the blanket in his hands. Clean. Scentless. Useless. " You gave me this blanket didn't you” he didn't expect a reply “Get me another one. Same scent. Exact."

 "I can try sir, but" Elias paused. There was no clean way to say this. "That scent was my sister's. She mixes it herself. It's not something you can buy."

 Damien went very still.

 "Your sister."

 "Liora. She left the blanket in the car months ago. I should've returned it."

 The silence stretched. Elias watched something shift in Damien's expression exhaustion ceding ground to something harder and more deliberate.

 "Bring her here."

 "I'm sorry?"

 "Tonight. If the scent is still on her" He stopped himself. Rubbed a hand over his face. Started again, quieter. "I need to sleep, Elias. You understand what I'm telling you? I need it. Bring her here." Desperation had crept into his voice.

 "She has a life. She works two jobs, she's not....."

 "If she isn't here by nine," Damien said calmly, the billionaire CEO was back the desperation and pleas were out, 

"You're done. Not just here. Anywhere in this city. I'll make sure of it."

 Elias looked at him.

 He wanted to say something anything that would land differently. But Damien wasn't bluffing. He never bluffed. It was one of the things that made him good at what he did and almost impossible to work for.

 "I'll call her," Elias said finally.

 Damien nodded once, already turning away. "Tell her to bring anything that still has the scent on it."

 Liora was standing outside the building thirty minutes later, the windows reflecting her image wondering what exactly she'd just agreed to.

 Her brother's voice on the phone had been careful in the way it got when things were actually bad. "Please. Just come, it's about my boss……. I'll explain when you get here." She'd pulled on her jacket, grabbed her bag, and came as fast as she could. Fear was a big motivation and because he was her brother she knew him more than anyone else, she could hear the strain underneath the words he wasn't saying.

 The private elevator opened without a key card. Someone had already keyed it for her.

 She stepped in and felt like her whole world was about to change.

 She didn't know what Damien Voss needed from her. She knew his name the way everyone knew it the kind of man whose face showed up in business sections and gossip columns in equal measure. Rich. Difficult. Used to getting what he wanted.

 She bit the side of her thumb and counted the numbers till they reached the top floor.