Lies And More Lies

The café was quiet in the way expensive places often are, soft jazz playing, the scent of roasted beans blending with expensive perfume. Outside, rain slicked the streets, leaving the world painted in gray.

Damon sat across from Jack, the man who had managed to twist every calm nerve in his body into a knot.

Two cups of untouched coffee sat between them. The guards lined the corners of the café like shadows. Neither of them had the guts to come here without a security detail.

Else, they would both have guns to each other's cranium by now.

Nobody spoke, not at first.

Jack stirred his cup lazily, the small silver spoon clinking against porcelain. “You look tense,” he said, voice calm, too calm.

Damon’s jaw flexed. “You’re lucky I’m not doing worse.”

Jack smirked faintly, not looking up. “Is that a threat?”

“It's a promise,” Damon replied. “You’re going to tell me why you had someone push Naomi down the stairs.”

Jack stopped stirring. The silence stretched thin.

Finally, he looked up, his eyes dark with something Damon couldn’t quite name; regret, perhaps, or arrogance.

Knowing Jack, it's clearly arrogance.

Jack said evenly. “You already know why.”

Damon leaned forward, voice sharp. “You don't take my words seriously, do you?”

Jack leans back. “The fact that you promise to scatter my brains out on an asphalt? I remember. And sadly, you'd die trying.”

Damon smirked. “We could put that to the test right now.”

Jack sighed, sitting back in his chair as if bored of the conversation already.

“You’re smart, Damon. Ruthless even. But you’re also predictable. You thought marrying Naomi would keep her safe, didn’t you? That you could control the narrative, hide what really happened with her father from her?”

Damon’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your words.”

“Oh, I am,” Jack said with a half-smile. “You think she didn’t have the right to know? About the inheritance? About what you took?”

Damon’s fingers twitched against the table. “You know damn well what really happened. Aaron found out you're a piece of shit and gave his daughter a life jacket.”

Jack tilted his head slightly, studying him. “That life jacket is dwindling. Your feelings are involved and your calculations, sloppy. It was easier when she was far, far away. I heard you're her first. Pathetic.”

Something flickered across Damon’s expression, anger, rage, something buried deep.

Jack noticed it and smiled faintly. “She’s smarter than you think, you know. By now she’s probably figured everything out.”

Damon’s heartbeat stilled for half a second. “What are you talking about?”

Jack shrugged. “I left her something. A piece of her father’s legacy. She deserved to know who she really married.”

Damon’s chair scraped against the marble floor as he stood abruptly, looming over the table. “What the hell did you give her?”

Jack didn’t answer right away. He just smiled, a cruel sort of calmness in his tone. “Let’s just say truth is... explosive.”

Before Damon could react, his phone buzzed violently against the table.

Patrick.

He answered immediately. “What is it?”

“Sir…” Patrick’s voice was frantic. “It’s Ms Naomi. There was an explosion. In the study. I believe a flash drive blew up…”

For a moment, Damon couldn’t breathe.

“Where is she?”

Patrick’s words blurred into static.

“She’s alive, but barely conscious. We’ve called an ambulance. The police are here. You need to come home. Now.”

Damon’s blood turned to ice.

He looked up at Jack, his expression twisting into something dark, dangerous. “If she dies,” he said quietly, “I’ll end you myself.”

Jack’s smirk deepened just slightly, but Damon didn’t wait for a reply. He stormed out, his guards falling into step behind him, the café door slamming shut behind him like the crack of a gunshot.

♤

By the time he reached the house, red and blue lights painted the driveway. The scent of smoke and burned plastic hung in the air. A paramedic brushed past him, murmuring something about “minor burns” and “shock,” but Damon wasn’t listening.

He pushed through the living room door, and the world froze.

Naomi sat on the couch, a white towel draped over her shoulders, a faint cut blooming across her chin. She was pale, trembling slightly, her hair damp.

Soonie sat beside her, one arm around her shoulder, glaring at every officer that moved too close.

Damon’s heart dropped at the sight of her.

“Naomi,” he breathed, moving toward her in long strides.

Her eyes lifted to his. For a heartbeat, something familiar flickered there. Relief, maybe, but it was gone before it could stay. She didn’t push him away when he reached for her, but she didn’t hold him either.

Her silence was heavier than any scream.

“What happened?” Damon demanded, turning to Patrick, who stood by the broken remnants of the desktop that the officers had carried down to the ground floor in a blue plastic box.

Patrick looked grim. “The flash drive had a detonator rigged inside. She plugged it in, and it blew. The blast was contained, thank God. Just burns and a mild concussion.”

Damon’s jaw clenched. “Where the hell did she get it?”

Patrick hesitated, eyes flicking toward Naomi. “It was a parcel. From Jack.”

At that name, Damon’s blood ran hot again. “He knew,” he muttered. “That son of a…”

“You knew too, didn’t you?” Her voice trembled slightly. “About my father’s will. About the company. About everything.”

Damon froze.

“Don’t stand there pretending to be angry for me when you’ve been keeping the same secrets.”

Her words hit him like a slap.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Naomi, listen to me…”

“No,” Soonie snapped suddenly, standing between them like a shield. Her voice was shaking with rage. “You listen, Damon! She almost died because of you! Every damn thing that happens around you turns into chaos! You call this protection? You’re supposed to keep her safe, not drag her into whatever dark hole you crawled out of!”

Damon turned sharply, eyes cold. “You’re out of line.”

“I don’t give a damn!” Soonie’s voice cracked. “You think your money and your bodyguards make you some savior? Look at her! She’s terrified. She doesn’t even know who to trust anymore and maybe that’s because she trusted the wrong person.”

His patience snapped.

“Watch your mouth,” he growled, his voice cutting through the room. “You’re in my house, under my roof, because I allowed it. Don’t mistake my silence for weakness.”

Soonie stepped forward, unflinching. “You can threaten me all you want. But you can’t control her anymore.”

Damon’s glare could have burned steel. “You don’t know what I’ve done for her.”

“Oh, I do,” she shot back bitterly. “You’ve lied. Manipulated. Made her believe you were her safe place when you’re just a thief!”

“Enough!” Naomi’s voice finally broke through, sharp, desperate.

Both of them fell silent.

Her breathing was uneven. The towel slipped from her shoulders, landing in a heap at her feet. “This isn't about either of you!” she snapped.

Soonie blinked, then nodded, taking a step back. But Damon stayed still, his eyes never leaving Naomi’s face.

“Naomi, I didn’t know what Jack told you but…”

Her hand swings over his face, slapping him hard. Tears pooled in her eyes as she glared at him. “You're the worst.”

“Naomi…”

“I saw the files,” she whispered. “Everything. My father's share and properties were in my name but it changed to yours a few days before he died. Why is that?”

“It’s not what you think,” Damon said quickly, but his voice cracked, betraying him.

“I struggled to keep afloat.” she stammered. “ I didn't have anything in my name but you got everything. I thought Aunt Clara and my father's greedy siblings took it all because the damned lawyer told me that. But that same lawyer works for you now? And its all a coincidence? You took everything from me before I even knew what I had.”

He couldn’t find the words. For once, Damon, the man who always had answers, had none.

Naomi’s gaze was steady, though her eyes glistened. “I don’t know who to believe anymore.”

Soonie touched her shoulder gently. “Let’s go,” she murmured. “You need to rest.”

Naomi hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to Damon. There were a thousand emotions in that look; pain, confusion, love, betrayal but not one of them offered him forgiveness.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

She said nothing, just turned and walked toward the door, Soonie by her side. The police made way for them, murmuring into their radios. The sound of rain had started again, tapping softly against the windows.

Patrick approached slowly, his voice low. “Sir, should I..”

Damon raised a hand, stopping him. His eyes were still on the doorway where Naomi had disappeared.

The room fell quiet, save for the faint hiss of rain and the hum of damaged wires from the ruined desktop.

Damon stood in the center of it all; smoke, broken glass, and silence, feeling, for the first time in years, like everything he’d built was collapsing right in front of him.

Outside, Naomi stepped into the rain, her hand gripping Soonie’s as they walked down the driveway. She didn’t look back, even though part of her wanted to.