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029: An unexpected Visitor
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2026-07-22 06:17:19Elena stared at the message on her phone long after the screen went dark.
If you won't come home... then I'll come to you. A knot formed in her stomach. She had ignored her grandfather's first request because she wasn't ready to face him. Too much had happened in such a short time. The divorce, the pregnancy, moving into Blackwood Mansion, and now Margaret's unexpected appearance at the gala. She wasn't ready to explain any of it. "Miss Elena?" Damian's voice pulled her back to reality. She quickly locked her phone and looked up. "What happened?" he asked, noticing the worry on her face. "It's... nothing." Damian raised an eyebrow. "You've never been good at pretending." Elena let out a helpless laugh. "Was I that obvious?" "Only to someone who's paying attention." His answer caught her off guard. For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. Then Elena lowered her eyes. "My grandfather called." Damian's expression softened. "The one you told me about?" She nodded. "He wanted me to go home a few days ago. I couldn't." "And now?" "He says he's coming here." She sighed. "I don't even know how to face him." Damian remained quiet for a moment before speaking. "You don't have to face him alone." His voice was calm, but there was certainty behind it. "If you'd like... I'll be there." Elena looked at him in surprise. "You'd do that?" He smiled faintly. "I made you a promise, didn't I?" Warmth spread through Elena's heart. She wasn't used to having someone stand beside her without expecting anything in return. "Thank you," she whispered. The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. The charity team continued preparing for their upcoming outreach program, and Elena threw herself into the work. While reviewing a list of donated supplies, she suddenly frowned. "The quantities don't match," she said. One of the coordinators looked confused. "What do you mean?" Elena pointed at the report. "According to this invoice, five hundred blankets were delivered." She flipped to another page. "But the warehouse only received three hundred." The room fell silent. Damian walked over and examined the documents himself. "She's right." His eyes darkened. "Someone altered the records." The employees exchanged nervous glances. Damian calmly closed the file. "We'll audit every shipment." His voice remained composed, but everyone knew he wasn't pleased. As the meeting ended, Elena couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just a simple accounting mistake. Someone inside the organization was being dishonest. Across the city, Adrian sat in his office staring at the old letter again. Margaret. The name refused to leave his mind. Just then, his investigator walked in carrying a thin brown envelope. "I found something." Adrian immediately reached for it. Inside were copies of records from a children's home that had closed years ago. Several pages were missing. Others had been deliberately damaged. But one line remained readable. Emergency Guardian: Samuel Eze. Adrian frowned. "Who is Samuel Eze?" "We're still investigating," the investigator replied. "But someone paid to remove the rest of the file." Adrian's jaw tightened. "Then someone doesn't want Elena's past discovered." That evening, Blackwood Mansion was peaceful. Mrs. Harper had prepared dinner, insisting everyone eat before returning to work. Halfway through the meal, the housekeeper entered the dining room. "Mr. Blackwood." "There's a gentleman at the gate." Damian looked up. "Did he give his name?" "Yes, sir." The housekeeper hesitated before answering. "He says he's Miss Elena's grandfather." The spoon slipped from Elena's hand and clattered onto the plate. Her heart began to pound. She wasn't expecting him this soon. Damian looked at her reassuringly before pushing back his chair. "I'll go with you." Elena took a deep breath. No matter how much she wanted to delay this moment... There was no running anymore. Outside the mansion gates, an elderly man stood quietly with a worn leather bag at his feet. The moment his eyes met Elena's, they filled with emotion. "My child..." he whispered. Elena felt her throat tighten. She hadn't heard those words in years.
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Her grandfather was waiting for her when she arrived, which told Elena everything before she'd said a word. He'd known this conversation was coming since the moment Damian's security team pulled that bank statement."You should sit," he said."I'd rather stand."He nodded, as though he'd expected that too, and folded his hands in his lap the way he always did before delivering news he didn't want to give."Katherine didn't die of her heart," he said. "Or not only that. It's complicated, and I've spent seven years telling myself complicated was close enough to a lie that it didn't count as one."Elena set the bank statement on the table between them. "Someone has been funding an account under her name for seven years. Paying Marcus Reyes. Explain that to me."Her grandfather looked at the paper like it was something that could still bite him."Katherine wasn't just your aunt," he said slowly. "She ran security for this family for almost a decade before you were born. Off the books, mos
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The doctor's office was quiet in the way expensive places always were — no waiting room chatter, no rushed appointments, just soft lighting and the faint hum of machines that were about to answer a question Elena had been avoiding for weeks.Damian sat beside her, his hand wrapped around hers, saying nothing because he understood, without being told, that she needed the silence more than reassurance right now."Six weeks along," Dr. Whitfield said, turning the monitor slightly so Elena could see. "Measurements are right on track."Six weeks.Elena did the math again, the way she'd done it a dozen times already in the privacy of her own head, and the number landed exactly where it had every other time. Six weeks put conception right around the week she'd been signed over to Damian. Not years ago, in a hotel room she'd spent seven years trying to forget.Now.Recently.The night she'd told herself, at the time, hadn't meant anything."Elena." Damian's voice was low, steady, meant only f
Too Late To Want Me Back 051: The Reckoning Begins
By the time Elena walked into the Vale Group's headquarters, the entire city already knew her name.Cameras lined the entrance. Reporters shouted questions she didn't answer. Analysts had spent the last three days rewriting projections for a company everyone thought had lost its heir seven years ago, and now here she was, stepping out of a car with Damian Blackwood's hand at the small of her back, dressed like a woman who had never once been anyone's collateral.She didn't flinch under the lights. She'd spent too long flinching."Ms. Vale." A board member met her at the door, older, cautious, testing the ground before he committed to a side. "We weren't expecting you so soon.""I've been gone seven years," Elena said. "I don't intend to waste a single day more."The boardroom fell silent when she entered.These were men who had run her father's company in her absence, who had built careers on the assumption she would never come back to claim what was hers. A few looked afraid. A few l
Too Late To Want Me Back 050: Following the Money
By morning, Damian's security team had a location.Not a home address — Marcus Reyes hadn't lived anywhere long enough to leave a paper trail worth following. But he had a habit of using the same private mail service every few weeks, a small storefront wedged between a dry cleaner and a shuttered bakery on the edge of the industrial district."It's not much," the head of security admitted, sliding a folder across Damian's desk. "But it's the only thread that's actually moved in three days."Elena reached for the folder before Damian could. "Then we pull it.""Elena—""I'm not asking you to let me go alone." She met his eyes. "I'm telling you I'm coming."Damian studied her for a long moment, the way he did when he was deciding whether to fight her or trust her. He chose trust. He usually did, these days."Fine," he said. "But we do this quietly. If Marcus knows we're looking, he disappears."The mail service was smaller than the photograph suggested, lit by a single flickering sign an
Too Late To Want Me Back 049: The Hotel
Damian didn't sit. He never did when the truth was about to cost him something."Seven years ago, I wasn't in that city by accident," he said. "I was there because my father had just died, and I'd inherited a company that was quietly bleeding out from a deal he'd made with your family."Elena's grip on his hand tightened. "My family?""The Vale Group had a controlling stake in a shipping consortium my father needed to survive. He'd borrowed against it without telling anyone — including me. When he died, I had ninety days to either renegotiate the terms or lose everything he'd spent thirty years building." Damian's jaw worked. "I flew in to meet with a Vale representative. Someone who could get me an audience with your father before the board found out how close we were to collapse.""And instead you met me.""I didn't know who you were. Not that night." He finally looked at her. "You told me your name was Ellie. You said you were in town for a wedding you didn't want to attend."Elena
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Damian's security team traced the call within thirty-six hours. A burner phone, purchased in cash, activated for eleven minutes and never used again. Untraceable, technically. But the store it came from sat two blocks from a building Damian recognized immediately — the old Sterling Holdings satellite office, the one Adrian had quietly shut down during the restructuring. "That doesn't mean Adrian's involved," Elena said, reading the report over Damian's shoulder. "I didn't say it did." He set the tablet down. "But someone who used to have access to that building did." "Marcus." Damian looked up. "You know that name?" "No." Elena frowned. "But Vanessa's been different this week. Distracted. My assistant mentioned she canceled two meetings and left the office early yesterday without telling anyone where she was going." "You're still keeping tabs on Vanessa." "I'm keeping tabs on the people who might hurt me. She qualifies." Elena crossed her arms. "She always has." Damia
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