The First Kiss

Chapter Twenty

"Hello, family."

The voice echoed through the house.

I froze.

My mother's fingers tightened around my arm.

Damien raised his gun.

"Stay behind me."

The words were barely whispered.

I nodded.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.

The man downstairs laughed.

"Still hiding behind others, Elena?"

My mother went pale.

I looked at her.

"Mom?"

She didn't answer.

"Who is he?"

Her eyes remained fixed on the doorway.

"My father-in-law."

Damien's jaw tightened.

"My grandfather."

She nodded.

"Yes."

Another laugh came from downstairs.

"I know you're up there."

Damien moved toward the door.

My mother grabbed his arm.

"Don't."

He looked at her.

"Why?"

"Because if he wanted us dead, we'd already be dead."

Damien's expression hardened.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No."

She looked at me.

"He wants something."

I swallowed.

"The ledger."

"No."

She shook her head.

"He wants you."

A cold sensation moved through me.

"Why?"

"Because you're the only person who can open it."

I looked at the black book sitting inside the hidden compartment.

"And what does he think I'll do?"

"Give him the final page."

I frowned.

"I thought the final page was inside the ledger."

"It is."

"Then why does he need me?"

My mother hesitated.

"Because the final page was written in a code only you can understand."

I stared at her.

"I was three."

"You were there when I created it."

"I don't remember."

"You will."

A floorboard creaked outside the room.

Damien immediately stepped in front of me.

The door slowly opened.

Nobody was there.

He looked into the hallway.

"Stay here."

I caught his hand.

"No."

His eyes met mine.

"I'm coming."

"Lena."

"I don't want to stay behind."

He studied me for a moment.

Then nodded.

"Fine. But stay close."

I followed him into the hallway.

My mother came behind us.

We reached the staircase.

A man stood at the bottom.

He looked almost exactly like the photograph.

Silver hair.

Tall.

Elegant.

Cold.

He was holding a cane in one hand.

He smiled.

"Damien."

Damien raised his gun.

"Don't move."

The old man laughed.

"You're pointing a weapon at your grandfather."

"I don't consider you family."

The smile vanished.

"Your father used to say the same thing."

Damien's eyes narrowed.

"You knew him."

"I created him."

"You're the reason he became a monster."

"No."

The old man looked at me.

"Your mother is."

My mother stepped forward.

"Don't you dare."

He smiled.

"Still angry."

"Still alive."

"Unfortunately."

Damien's finger tightened around the trigger.

"Enough."

The old man looked at him.

"You have your father's temper."

"And your blood."

"Unfortunately."

The man smiled again.

"But you also have something he never possessed."

"What?"

He looked at me.

"Her."

My stomach tightened.

Damien stepped closer to me.

"You'll never touch her."

The old man laughed.

"That's exactly what your father said."

Then everything happened at once.

A gunshot came from outside.

The windows shattered.

My mother grabbed me.

Damien pulled me to the floor.

Men rushed into the house.

Chaos erupted.

Gunfire.

Shouting.

Glass breaking.

Damien covered me with his body.

"Stay down!"

I could barely breathe.

His weight was pressed over me, his arm protecting my head.

"Damien!"

"I'm here."

"You're bleeding."

He looked at his shoulder.

The wound from earlier had reopened.

"I'm fine."

"You keep saying that."

"Because I am."

"You are definitely not fine."

Despite everything, a tiny smile appeared on his lips.

"You're worried about me."

"Of course I'm worried."

His smile disappeared.

Something changed in his eyes.

For a second, the gunfire seemed distant.

The shouting disappeared.

There was only him.

Only me.

His face was inches from mine.

His eyes moved to my lips.

Then back to my eyes.

I barely had time to understand what was happening.

Damien kissed me.

It wasn't planned.

It wasn't calculated.

It was one sudden, impulsive moment.

His lips touched mine softly.

I froze.

My entire body went still.

Then he pulled away almost immediately.

His eyes widened slightly.

I stared at him.

Neither of us spoke.

My cheeks were burning.

My heart was pounding.

And I couldn't understand why I suddenly couldn't look at him.

Damien looked away first.

"I'm sorry."

I swallowed.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have done that."

I touched my lips.

"I..."

He looked back at me.

"I acted without thinking."

I could barely speak.

"That was..."

He waited.

I looked down.

"My first kiss."

His expression changed completely.

"What?"

I nodded.

"My first kiss."

For perhaps the first time since I'd met him, Damien looked genuinely speechless.

"Ever?"

I shook my head.

"Ever."

He stared at me.

"I thought..."

"What?"

"I don't know."

I gave a nervous laugh.

"You thought I'd kissed someone before?"

He looked away.

"I assumed."

"Why?"

"Because you're nineteen."

"So?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing."

I smiled despite myself.

"You're embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You just kissed me and now you don't know where to look."

He finally looked at me.

"That's because I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Why?"

His eyes searched mine.

"Because we're supposed to have rules."

I remembered.

The contract.

The arrangement.

The reason we'd married.

"You said this was only supposed to be protection."

"I know."

"And now?"

He was silent.

I waited.

"Now I'm not sure."

My heart fluttered.

"About what?"

He lowered his voice.

"About whether I can keep pretending I don't feel anything."

I stared at him.

He looked almost angry with himself.

"I've spent years controlling everything."

He paused.

"Then you came along."

I smiled faintly.

"And ruined everything?"

"Completely."

I laughed softly.

For a few seconds, neither of us remembered the danger surrounding us.

Then Damien's expression became serious.

"Lena."

"Yes?"

"If that was your first kiss..."

He hesitated.

"Was it okay?"

My cheeks grew hotter.

I nodded.

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I don't want you to think—"

"I don't."

He studied my face.

I whispered:

"I wanted to know what it felt like."

His eyes darkened.

"And?"

I looked down.

"It felt..."

I struggled for the right word.

"Different."

"Different good or different bad?"

I smiled.

"Good."

Something softened in his expression.

Then he reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face.

"Good."

My heart skipped.

He started to lean toward me again.

I held my breath.

But he stopped.

"Not like this."

I frowned.

"Why?"

"Because there's gunfire outside."

I almost laughed.

"That's a good reason."

"And because your first kiss deserves better than hiding behind a sofa while people shoot at us."

My smile grew.

"You think I deserve better?"

His eyes held mine.

"Yes."

A loud crash downstairs made us both jump.

Damien immediately became serious again.

"Stay here."

"No."

"Lena."

"I'm not letting you fight alone."

He stared at me.

Then nodded.

"Fine."

He reached for my hand.

"Stay with me."

I intertwined my fingers with his.

"I will."

When we returned downstairs, the old man was gone.

So was my mother.

I looked around frantically.

"Mom?"

No answer.

Damien immediately became alert.

"Victor!"

One of his men appeared.

"Boss."

"Find Elena."

"We're searching."

"Now."

I looked at the staircase.

A trail of blood led toward the back door.

My stomach dropped.

"She's hurt."

Damien followed my gaze.

"No."

We ran.

The door stood open.

Outside, headlights disappeared into the forest.

A vehicle.

Someone had taken her.

I looked at Damien.

"They took my mother."

He was already pulling out his phone.

"Get the cars ready."

Victor nodded.

I looked at the black ledger still in my hands.

Then at the key.

"We can't leave without this."

Damien looked at me.

"Take it."

I tucked it into my coat.

Then something caught my eye.

The floor near the doorway.

A small silver object.

I picked it up.

A ring.

Black stone.

A circle engraved across it.

My mother had worn it in the photograph.

I turned it over.

There were initials inside.

E.M.

My mother's.

But beneath them was another inscription.

For the daughter who remembers.

I stared at it.

Damien came closer.

"What is it?"

I showed him.

His face changed.

"Your mother left it."

I nodded.

"Why?"

He looked toward the forest.

"Maybe she knew she'd be taken."

I felt a chill.

"Maybe she wanted me to find it."

I turned the ring over again.

There was something inside the band.

A tiny piece of paper.

I carefully pulled it out.

Three words were written on it.

Remember the garden.

I looked at Damien.

"What garden?"

He didn't answer.

Then I remembered.

A memory.

Three-year-old me running through flowers.

My mother laughing.

My father watching from the porch.

And a man standing beneath a tree.

The same man from the photograph.

My grandfather.

I closed my eyes.

"I remember."

Damien's hand settled on my shoulder.

"What?"

"The garden."

My voice shook.

"My grandfather was there."

"What did he say?"

I tried to remember.

Then the memory came.

His voice.

Deep.

Calm.

One day, little girl, everything in this house will belong to you.

I opened my eyes.

"He said something."

"What?"

"He said the house would belong to me."

Damien frowned.

"The estate?"

I nodded.

"But why?"

I looked at the black ledger.

"Because my mother didn't hide the truth in the box."

I swallowed.

"She hid it in the house."

Damien looked toward the dark forest.

"Then that's where we're going."

I looked at him.

"What about my mother?"

"We'll find her."

"And your grandfather?"

His expression became cold.

"We'll find him too."

I took a breath.

"Together?"

He looked at me.

"Together."

His fingers brushed mine.

For a moment, I remembered the kiss.

My cheeks warmed again.

He noticed.

A faint smile appeared.

"Still thinking about it?"

I looked away.

"No."

"Liar."

I smiled.

"Maybe."

He leaned closer, his voice low.

"Good."

Then he opened the car door for me.

"Because I haven't stopped thinking about it either."

I climbed inside, my heart racing.

And as Damien got behind the wheel, neither of us noticed the small security camera hidden beneath the roof of the estate.

Its red light blinked.

Recording everything.

Including the moment Adrian stepped from the shadows.

He watched the car disappear.

Then lifted his phone.

"She's remembered the garden."

A pause.

He smiled.

"Yes."

His eyes moved toward the dark house.

"The girl is ready."

He ended the call.

And somewhere deep beneath the estate, a locked door opened.