Chapter 11: A Smile That Wasn't His

Elena's POV

I stepped back into the room, and my eyes widened as Damien kept walking toward me.

My fingers tightened around the torn scraps of my clothes. I looked around for a way out, any way out. The air had gone heavy, and every step he took made it harder to breathe.

"Let me guess," he said, a faint smirk on his lips. "You're thinking of running. Don't."

His gaze slid down my body and stopped at the oversized shirt hanging off me.

"You're wearing my shirt."

I dropped my eyes to the floor. I didn't want to set him off again. I'd had enough of his temper to last me a lifetime.

"'Well, he has no right to complain. He's the one who tore my clothes.'

He walked past me to the couch, his expensive shoes clicking softly against the polished floor. He sat down, crossed one leg over the other and picked up his phone.

That was my chance.

I turned slowly and crept toward the door.

"I hate bad energy," I muttered under my breath.

"Did I say you could leave?"

His deep voice stopped me cold. My hand hovered an inch from the doorknob.

"Come here."

I swallowed and turned around. Every step reminded me of last night, the soreness, the ache. I reached his side and stood there, waiting for him to speak.

He said nothing.

His eyes stayed on his phone, his thumbs moving fast across the screen. His face gave nothing away. He shifted in his seat once or twice, but he never looked at me.

My stomach growled, loud in the silence. I pressed my lips together, mortified, though he acted as if he hadn't heard.

'I'm starving.'

"Damien, I... I need to go," I said quietly.

Nothing.

He reached for the glass of water beside him, took a slow sip and went back to his screen.

"Please. I'm really hungry. I need to eat something."

This time I didn't bother hiding how desperate I sounded.

Still nothing. He just picked up his glasses from the couch, slid them on and kept typing.

I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, one hand braced against the wall. The pain between my legs was getting worse.

"Damien," I tried again, my voice thinner now. "It's already morning. I need to eat, and I have to start on today's..."

"So you want to eat?"

He cut me off, set the phone down and stood. He took off his glasses and dropped them on the side table. I stepped back before I could stop myself.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Elena."

A frown pulled his brows together.

"Yes," I whispered. "I'm hungry."

He let out a low chuckle and sat back down.

"Fine. Take off my shirt and you can go eat."

I stared at him. He couldn't be serious.

"You tore my clothes to pieces. How am I supposed to go outside?"

He barely glanced up.

"Not my problem."

'How can one man be this ruthless?'

I looked down at the shreds crumpled in my fist.

"But my clothes..."

"One more word to distract me, and you won't like what I do next."

My throat closed up. I blinked fast, trying to hold back the tears already stinging my eyes. I hadn't done anything to deserve this.

"How can you be like this?" I finally forced out. "My clothes are ruined because of you, and you expect me to walk out in them? Damien, I'm talking to you!"

He didn't answer. His eyes stayed on his phone, as if I were an inconvenience he had decided to ignore.

Something in me finally snapped.

"You know what?" I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, ignoring the sting at my lips where he'd cut me the night before. "I'm going to walk out that door, find something to eat, and get myself looked at."

I didn't wait for a reply. I turned and went straight for the door.

He didn't stop me. That surprised me more than anything.

I stepped into the corridor and hurried to my room. The moment the door shut behind me, I leaned against it. My legs wouldn't hold me anymore. I slid down until I was sitting on the floor, my back pressed to the wood.

Then I fell apart. Tears ran down my face as I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep the sobs in.

'What have I done to deserve this?'

---

ONE WEEK LATER

A whole week had passed since that morning.

I'd made it my mission to stay out of Damien's way. The second I saw him coming, I suddenly found something else to do. I couldn't understand why he seemed to enjoy making my life miserable. Every time his eyes landed on me, I ended up punished for something.

Thankfully, Lucas and I had been talking a lot lately. Having him around made the mansion feel a little less lonely.

It was Saturday, and nearly everyone had a job to do. The mansion was busier than usual. Workers moved through the wide corridors, some with laundry baskets, others rushing to their sections. The housekeepers were cleaning, and the hum of their chatter drifted down the otherwise quiet halls.

I walked out through the grand entrance, balancing a basket of bedspreads in my arms. They were headed for the east wing.

The morning breeze brushed my face as I stepped onto the paved walkway. I glanced toward Lucas's usual post, but he wasn't there. My eyes wandered until they landed on Steve, standing a little way off.

"Good morning, Steve," I called, hitching the basket against my hip.

He turned and gave me a friendly smile.

"Morning, Elena. How was your night?"

"Nice. And yours?"

"Good, but not as nice as yours."

I stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. He joined in, shaking his head.

For a moment, I forgot about the cloud that usually followed me around this place.

---

Damien's POV

In his private study, Damien sat behind his massive mahogany desk while Wilson, his personal assistant, went through a stack of business documents.

The room was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the grounds. The expensive furniture, the neatly arranged décor and the dark walls gave it an air that made most people uneasy.

"Sir, several companies have sent partnership offers," Wilson said, straightening the papers in his hands. "The Priceless is one of them."

Damien turned his chair slowly, barely interested.

He got up, took a cigarette from his desk drawer and lit it. He took a long drag.

"Should we turn down their contract, sir?"

Damien walked to the window and let out a cloud of smoke as he looked outside.

"I won't take any contract from New York if it's from The Priceless Corporation. Cancel the deal and send them my regards."

He glanced back.

"You can go."

Wilson nodded. "Understood, sir."

He collected his documents and left, closing the door behind him. The room fell silent.

Damien stayed by the window, his gaze drifting over the grounds. Then, without warning, his thoughts went somewhere he hadn't meant them to go.

'Am I being too harsh on her?'

His brows knitted.

'Why has she been avoiding me?'

He took another drag and ran a hand through his neatly styled hair.

"Maybe I should go easy on her," he muttered.

He was about to turn away when something caught his eye.

A familiar figure came out through the mansion's entrance, carrying a basket.

Damien went still.

'Elena.'

His eyes narrowed as he watched her look around.

'What is she searching for?' She shifted the basket in her arms and walked up to one of the workers.

Steve.

His face stayed blank as he watched them talk.

Then Elena laughed.

His jaw tightened.

She wasn't just smiling. She was laughing freely, her two small dimples showing in her cheeks. His fingers closed tighter around the cigarette.

"Such a slut," he muttered, his expression darkening. "And I was actually thinking of being nice to her. What a waste of time."

Still, he couldn't look away.

She was beautiful when she smiled. And seeing that smile aimed at another man irritated him more than he wanted to admit.

"She laughs for everyone else and never for me."

Steve said something, and Elena laughed again.

"That smile should be mine, not some other guy's."

A possessive look settled over his face. He lowered the cigarette slowly, his attention fixed on the two of them below.

Elena, unaware of the storm gathering above her, kept chatting with Steve, shifting the basket in her hands now and then. She had no idea that one harmless conversation had just stirred up another side of her unpredictable boss.

And Damien?

He wasn't looking away anytime soon.