Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Quiet End

Elise's POV

The Laurent estate loomed as we stepped through its towering doors, but today, it felt colder—less like a home, more like a throne room awaiting judgment.

"Don't let them get in your head," Damon said quietly, his hand resting at the small of my back. Warm, steady—but distant.

I glanced up. "You mean your grandfather? Or your father?"

He didn't answer. His jaw tightened as we passed the familiar portraits. Their painted eyes still tracked me like I didn't belong.

In the sitting room, Henri Laurent, Chairman of Laurent Holdings, sat like a monarch on his leather armchair, newspaper poised like a prop.

"Grandfather," Damon greeted, voice calm, but clipped.

Henri lowered the paper, eyes scanning us like a hawk. "You're late."

"We came straight from the office," said Damon. "Had to finalize the Q2 report."

From the corner of the room, Charles Laurent, Vice Chairman of Laurent and Damon's father, stood with a glass of scotch in hand. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were laser-sharp. Diana, his wife, sat just beside him, perched delicately on the edge of a velvet loveseat—elegant, watchful, quiet.

Henri didn't bother with pleasantries. He tilted his chin. "Well? You didn't come here to talk numbers."

Damon's hand briefly tightened at my back, then dropped as he stepped forward. "No," he said. "We came to tell you something."

I shifted a little behind him, giving him the floor. This wasn't my war to fight—it was his legacy at stake.

"We're ending the engagement," Damon said, his voice clear, unwavering.

A beat passed. Then another. Damon shifted his weight, and just for a second, I saw it—the flicker of doubt in his eyes, the vulnerability no one else ever got to see.

"It's… complicated," he added, glancing at me. "I wasn't fair to her. To Elise." His voice cracked slightly. "I'm not the man she thought I was."

Henri's stare didn't waver. His expression was carved in stone, unreadable.

"It's not just about her," he finally said. "It's about you. About this family. This company."

Charles stepped in, measured and diplomatic. "Father, we've already talked about this. It's the right decision."

Diana nodded softly. "They're not aligned anymore. It's better to end things now."

Silence swallowed the room. Henri's fingers tapped once on the armrest. "You're making a mistake."

"It's my decision," Damon replied.

"You're CEO now. That doesn't make you invincible."

Charles cut in, voice low but firm. "Fathe—"

"No," Henri snapped. "He should know what it means to carry this name."

Damon met his gaze without flinching. "I do. Which is why I'm not dragging someone through a life she never asked for."

Charles sighed, stepping forward. "You're still expected at the board meeting Monday."

"I'll be there," Damon said. "I haven't forgotten who I am. Or what this company means."

Henri looked at me then, expression unreadable. "And you? Any last words before we pretend this didn't happen?"

I swallowed hard but held his gaze. "Only that I never pretended."

"Why?" Henri's question came slowly, measured. "I thought you two were happy together." Henri exhaled, the sound sharp and deliberate. "I thought Elise was the one. What happens to the legacy now? The Laurent future?"

I stayed silent, biting down on the words bubbling in my throat. He wasn't asking about us—he was talking about image, succession, control.

I parted my lips to speak, but Damon gently pressed his hand to my back again. A signal. Not yet.

Henri turned his piercing gaze to me. "And you, Elise? Any regrets?"

I steadied my breath, forced a calm smile. "No," I said, locking eyes with Damon. "I think it's for the best."

Henri blinked once. His face didn't change, but his voice did—barely. "Then so be it."

Damon gave a small nod. "Thank you, Grandfather."

The silence shattered as Henri stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. "I've said my piece," he muttered. "You've made your decision. Don't expect me to be pleased about it."

He turned and strode from the room, the door to his study slamming shut behind him.

Damon didn't move. His eyes stayed fixed on the door, as if waiting for something that wouldn't come.

Charles finally spoke. "Damon," he said evenly, "this is the right choice. Hard, but necessary."

Diana added softly, "Elise deserves certainty. So do you."

I felt their eyes on me, but mine stayed on the floor. It already felt like they were moving on, recalibrating the next steps—business as usual.

Damon turned at last. His expression was clouded, unreadable. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's go."

We walked to the elevator in silence. Yes, a three-floor dwelling with an elevator—rightful for a family like the Laurents.

The click of our footsteps echoed on the marble floor, too sharp in the quiet. As the elevator doors slid shut, Damon pressed the button for the ground floor. The soft chime of the descent only made the tension between us sharper.

"Thank you," he said after a long pause, his voice cutting through the quiet. His eyes met mine through the reflection of the elevator doors. "For not saying anything about Vivienne."

The words hit me like a punch. I swallowed hard, nodding, unable to speak. I didn't know what to say.

Not now, not when everything I thought I knew was slipping away.

I forced my breath to steady. What could I say? What was there left to say?

I glanced at him in the mirrored doors. His jaw was tight, his expression a mix of guilt and gratitude. There he stood—Damon, the man who once promised me forever, the man who seemed unshakable. But now...

"I've always known," I started quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, "that you didn't want to disappoint your family. You were built to be an heir, Damon. The Laurent legacy... everything you've done, everything you are... it's all tied to that. The name, the future. I know how much it weighs on you."

His eyes flickered, but he didn't respond. He didn't need to. It was written in every line of his face—the unspoken responsibility, the pressure, the expectations that had always been louder than his own desires.

I took a breath, forcing myself to continue. "And that's why I stayed silent. I couldn't be the one to tear it all apart for you. For them. I couldn't…"

I paused, gathering my thoughts. "I won't pretend it didn't hurt. I won't pretend it didn't break me. But your family… they treated me with kindness. They accepted me, and I can't forget that."

Damon didn't meet my eyes, but his hand gripped the railing tighter. The silence between us pressed in, thick and suffocating. He didn't say anything—didn't apologize or explain. He just stood there, stiff as stone.

"I stayed quiet about Vivienne," I said, the words rushing out now. "Because, despite everything, you're still that man to them. You're still the one they look to. And I didn't want to be the one to ruin that for you. For them."

There it was. The raw truth, the one I'd been holding in for days. I loved him. I loved his family. But I couldn't live in a lie anymore. I couldn't pretend that everything was fine when it wasn't. And yet, I still couldn't destroy the fragile bond between Damon and his family. Even if it meant swallowing my pain.

The elevator descended, the silence hanging heavy. It felt endless, as if the world outside had stopped moving, leaving only the two of us in this small, confined space where everything was too close, too exposed. My chest tightened, my heart aching, but there was no way to ease the pressure.

I glanced up again. Damon's reflection was distant, his gaze fixed somewhere far away. Guilt? Regret? Maybe relief? I didn't know. But I could feel it—he was trapped by the same legacy, the same expectations that had always hovered over us.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the ground floor. The sound felt like a bell tolling, marking the end of something. Damon stepped out first, holding the door open for me, but I hesitated.

I wanted to say something—anything—to make him understand. To make him know that I wasn't doing this to hurt him. But the words felt too small, too insignificant against the weight of everything between us.

And so, I stayed silent. Because sometimes silence says everything that words cannot.

The doors opened, and Damon stepped into the hallway, waiting for me. I stood there for a moment, staring at the quiet space ahead. I couldn't bring myself to look back at him. Not now. Not at anything.