Smart Man

Damon stirred beneath the sheets, the pounding in his head enough to make him wince. His throat was dry, his mouth tasting faintly of regret and whiskey.

Damn it, he should have avoided that bar but he drank anyway and here he was with fractured memories of what had happened.

He blinked against the light, trying to piece together how he’d ended up here, wearing nothing but briefs. Jordan wasn't that generous, that much he knew.

The door creaked open.

“Good morning, sir,” Patrick’s voice cut through the fog in his head.

Damon winced, his voice seemed annoyingly bright for the hour.

“You’ve got meetings starting at ten, sir.” Patrick adds.

Damon groaned softly and sat up. “Patrick… What the hell happened last night?”

Patrick hesitated. “You mean, after you were escorted home?”

Damon rubbed his temple, his patience already wearing thin. “That would be a good place to start.”

The man folded his hands behind his back, his expression neutral. “Mr. Jordan brought you home, sir. You were rather… intoxicated.”

“That much I gathered,” Damon muttered.

Patrick continued, “Mrs. Naomi was waiting when you arrived. She helped your brother carry you upstairs, insisted on taking care of you herself. I was asked to stay out of the way.”

Damon’s gaze flicked to him sharply. “Naomi did what?”

Patrick inclined his head. “She stayed with you until you fell asleep, sir. You seemed quite… vocal, from what I heard.”

Damon froze. “Vocal?”

“Yes,” Patrick said simply, walking toward the nightstand. “She also left this before going to work.”

He set a folded note on the table beside Damon before turning toward the door. “I’ll have breakfast sent up. You’ll need it.”

The moment the door closed, Damon reached for the note.

The paper was creased, her handwriting instantly recognizable, small, neat.

Naomi: You come home drunk, saying things that were starting to make sense, and when I thought I would be getting a kiss, you pass out? You made this even worse.

A laugh escaped him, his wife was back. For the first time in days, he actually smiled. It wasn’t wide or careless, but it was Naomi infused.

He ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “ Thank God. I thought I lost you, Naomi.”

Then, almost as if pulled by instinct, he was already out of bed.

The pounding headache be damned, he had to go meet his wife, give her that kiss before she changed her mind.

He made a dash for the door, throwing open the bathroom door. Cold water hit his skin in a burst that sobered him faster than any scolding could. He got a glimpse of his reflection, goodness he was a mess. He had a field full of unkempt beards and that needed to go.

He shaved, showered and hurried right out.

Within twenty minutes, Damon was dressed; black suit, sharp tie, every inch the man Naomi deserved. But beneath it all, there was a restlessness he couldn’t quite name. He snagged his watch, slid on his cufflinks, and strode down the stairs.

Patrick was already waiting by the door, coat in hand. “You’re leaving early today, sir.”

“I’ve got things to fix,” Damon said shortly.

Patrick blinked but didn’t question him, only handed him the briefcase. “Of course, sir.”

And with that, Damon was out the door, his car engine roaring to life as he sped down the driveway toward Daiz Enterprises.

♡

The morning sunlight hit the wide glass panels of the office, spilling warmth across the open workspace.

Naomi sat at her desk, shoulders relaxed for the first time in weeks. Her coffee was still warm, her pen tapping rhythmically against her notebook as she scanned through the latest project proposals.

Something in her felt lighter today. She didn’t know if it was because of Reed’s revelation yesterday or Damon’s drunken honesty last night but for the first time in a long time, the chaos in her chest had settled into something calmer.

Did peeped into her office. “You’re glowing this morning,” she said with a grin. “Something good happened?”

Naomi lifted a brow, feigning confusion. “Glowing?”

“Yeah.” Rose said, also peeping in. “ You didn't walk in with a frown and you look approachable. We were all starting to think it's all because of that stairway incident.”

Paul stands right in front of her office door. “I'm so glad you're doing better! I was worried sick!” He whined, tears almost rolling down his eyes.

Naomi laughed softly. “ Come on guys. Maybe I just slept well.”

Didi leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Or maybe someone made you smile.”

Naomi rolled her eyes, unable to hide the faint curve of her lips. “You’re imagining things. All of you!”

“Nah! Your husband definitely made your day.” Rose teased.

“Whatever it is, I just hope they catch that stairway bastard! I've been holding my breath since she got back. Nobody had the balls to ask you what happened! The entire company was hit down and we were all so scared that you died!”

Didi nudged Paul. “Shut up!”

“I'm just being honest!” Paul snapped, crying. Naomi chuckled, her heart warming up instantly

But the truth was, she was happier like they said. That stupid note she wrote him before leaving had been half a joke, half a dare. She hadn’t expected to find the courage to write it, let alone feel so… relieved afterward.

Whatever had passed between them last night had cracked something open.

Maybe, just maybe, they were finally beginning to understand each other.

The thought made her heart race.

“I'm fine. And yes, the company was shut down because they were worried we had a killer for a staff member. I'm fine. I promise.”

Her team members sigh in relief . “Let's get back to work before we get a query, okay?”

They nodded and returned back to the work station, the atmosphere seeming lighter and happier now.

Naomi was just about to respond to an email when the atmosphere around the office shifted. The sound of heels echoed against the marble floor. Conversations quieted. Heads turned.

The clicks got closer and closer until it pulled a stop at the entrance into her office.

“Naomi,” came Clara’s clipped tone.

Naomi’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

Clara stood before her in a navy suit, her pearl earrings gleaming under the light and her eyes held a glinting she knew all too well.

Naomi straightened in her chair. “Aunt Clara. What brings you here?”

Clara's eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb, dear. I’m looking for Amanda. Do you know where she is?”

Naomi frowned. “No. I haven’t seen her.”

Clara’s tone hardened. “Really? Because people seem to think you’ve been hiding her. You and Damon.”

The mention of Damon made the room tilt slightly. Naomi forced herself to remain still. “If you have questions for Mr Damon, take it up with him in his office.”

“Oh, I will,” Clara said, taking a step closer. Her perfume filled the air, suffocating Naomi. “But you're going to tell me what I need to know!”

Naomi exhaled. “I haven't seen Amanda in a long while and I have no clue where she is. Please leave, I don't have the answers you're looking for.”

Clara slapped one gloved hand on the table, “Don't you dare patronise me!”

“I am not! I am not the entirety of your problems. Leave. Now.” Naomi warned, rage brewing deep in her bones.

Clara's eyes flickered with surprise. “Oh, you've got nerves now?”

“Does it bother you? I'm calling security.”

“Fine. I'll leave. But let’s not pretend, Naomi. You’ve always been a burden. Even your father knew you weren’t strong enough to hold the company. You should’ve walked away when you had the chance.”

Naomi’s throat tightened, but she met her aunt’s gaze. “You’re wrong.”

Clara smirked. “Am I? Because last I checked, you were the scared little girl who couldn’t even defend herself when your life was falling apart.”

Didi tried to step in. “Madam, this isn’t the place…”

Clara silenced her with a glare. “Stay out of this.”

Naomi stood slowly. “You should leave, Aunt Clara.”

“Or what?” Clara sneered. “You’ll cry again? Maybe hide behind your husband this time? Oh wait, does he even care enough to show up for you?”

The sting landed deep. But before Naomi could speak, a new voice cut across the space.

“That’s enough.”

The tone, low and commanding, froze the entire floor.

Damon.

He stood at the end of the hall, his gaze narrowed down on Clara in a dangerous glare. Every head turned as he approached. If things were quiet before, it got even quieter now that he's here . There was no trace of the drunk man from last night, only the cold, collected CEO everyone feared crossing.

Clara’s face faltered. “You're here. Good! Where is…”

“You’ve said enough,” he interrupted. “This is my company, and you’re not welcome here.”

Her lips parted, shock written all over her face. “You wouldn't dare!”

He gestured to the two security guards already approaching. “Escort Mrs. Clara out. Make sure she doesn’t step foot in this building again.”

Clara’s outrage flickered into disbelief. “You’re throwing me out?”

Damon didn’t blink. “For disrespecting one of my executives. Yes.”

Naomi’s breath caught. Executives. Not his wife. He was protecting her as a professional. Her lips curled slightly, she married a smart man.

Clara tried to protest, but Damon turned away. The guards guided her toward the exit, her protests echoing uselessly across the marble lobby.

When the silence finally settled, Damon looked at Naomi. “My office. Now.”

The authority in his tone was hard to argue with. Naomi followed quietly, her coworkers exchanging wide-eyed looks as she passed.

♡

Inside his office, he tried to relax, to breathe. The door shut behind her with a soft click. Damon stood near his desk, his tie slightly loosened, his expression unreadable.

“Did she touch you?”

Naomi blinked. “What?”

He stepped closer, scanning her face like he could spot invisible bruises. “Did Clara do anything to you? Did she threaten you physically?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. Just words.”

Damon exhaled, jaw tight. “No, I'll get you checked. You've had too many incidents recently, I can't..”

Naomi watched him quietly, her heart softening as she saw the strain behind his calm exterior. He was angry, furious even but not at her. For her.

He looked up again, eyes darker now. “I'll call Patrick to…”

Before he could finish, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him.

The movement startled him. For a moment, he froze, then his arms came around her instinctively, pulling her close. His chin rested against her hair, his breath uneven.

They stood there in silence, the noise of the world fading outside the office walls.

“God, I was worried she hit you..”

“I’m okay,” she whispered finally. “But I'm tired.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her. “What do you mean?”

Naomi met his gaze. “I’m done letting Clara win. Or Jack. I want to fight for my father’s company. For what he built. For what we should protect.”

Something shifted in Damon’s eyes; pride maybe? “Then we fight.”

Her lips curved faintly. “Together?”

He smirked. “ Like I would let you do this alone..”

For a moment, they didn’t move. Then Naomi stepped back, smoothing her blouse. “Good. Because I plan on playing the passenger princess all through this ride.”

Damon’s mouth twitched into the faintest smirk. “That would be perfect.”

As she turned toward the door, his voice stopped her again.

“Naomi.”

She looked back.

He hesitated, then said quietly, “About last night...”

“Tell me when we're home.” she smiled knowingly.

He nodded. “I'll tell you when we're home.”