chapter 10
1160 Words
John quietly left the dining room, careful not to disturb Lana as she continued eating. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he walked down the long hallway, the warmth of her relieved expression still lingering in his mind.
By the time he reached Damon’s study, his smile had begun to fade. He stood before the heavy oak door, rapped lightly with his knuckles, and waited. After a pause, he let himself in.
The study smelled faintly of leather and paper. Shelves lined with files and books towered around the room. Damon stood with his back half-turned, rifling through a stack of files with single-minded focus. His broad shoulders tensed at the intrusion, though he didn’t turn.
“What do you want?” Damon’s voice cut across the silence, sharp and irritated.
John almost rolled his eyes. Still simmering in anger, even after walking out on her. The girl was back there savouring dessert, and here he was, drowning himself in paperwork. He wished Damon would try to speak more about how he felt and stop masking his pain. He just wanted the best for him, and he knew this old resentment Damon had within him wasn’t the best. It was slowly eating him away every single day. That was why she shouldn't be here. She was a reminder of that resentment.
“I wanted to know if you would care for some dessert, sir,” John said, keeping his tone neutral. After all, the dessert had originally been made for Damon. But he had barely even touched his food and stormed out of the dining hall after almost making her choke because of his words. he didn’t deserve dessert, John thought as he stared at Damon.
“No, John.” Damon didn’t even glance at him. He pulled another file loose, flipped through a few pages, then shoved it aside. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for dessert?”
John clasped his hands behind his back, hiding the twitch of amusement on his face. “You could give it to someone else, then,” Damon added. “Or share it with the staff. I don’t care.”
John seized the opening. His lips curved into a mild smile. “I did already,” he replied smoothly. “And she seems to be enjoying it very much.”
That made Damon pause. His hand stilled over the files. Slowly, he turned, his gaze narrowing on John. “She?”
John met his eyes calmly. “She is having dessert.”
The disbelief on Damon’s face was almost comical. He set the file down with a sharp thud and turned fully toward John. “Dessert?”
“Yes.” John’s smile widened, just a little. “Strawberry swirl cheesecake, to be exact. I think she loves it.”
Damon’s chest tightened. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. She was supposed to be sulking, locked in her room, hating every moment of being here. Instead, she was… eating? Enjoying herself?
He dropped the file in his hands and exhaled sharply. “Is she crazy? What’s her deal?” he muttered under his breath.
John bit back a laugh. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying this, but Damon’s expression was priceless. “Do you think she’s… settling in?” John ventured. “Since she’s there, eating dessert as though she were at home?”
Damon’s jaw tightened. “Maybe if you were calmer with her, things wouldn’t be so tense,” John added gently.
Damon’s eyes hardened. “She doesn’t deserve my calmness.”
The words made John sigh. He shook his head in quiet frustration. Sometimes he wished he could scold Damon like he did when the man was a boy, but those days were long gone. Now Damon was an adult, hardened, and filled with too much bitterness. Sometimes he was unpredictable and so cold that it felt like he didn't even know him anymore.
“If you’d stayed in the dining room,” John said softly, “and watched her smile over that cheesecake, maybe your anger would’ve eased.”
Damon ignored him. His hands fisted briefly, then loosened.
John turned for the door, ready to leave before he said something that would spark Damon’s temper.
“And where are you going now?” Damon asked sharply. “To serve her more dessert?”
John stopped, then faced him with a faint frown. “Yes, sir,” he said firmly. “I’m going to see if our guest wants more.”
Damon scoffed. He grabbed a random file from the desk, flipping it open as though unbothered, though his chest burned with annoyance. “She isn’t a guest in my house. And she never will be.”
John’s eyes narrowed. He held Damon’s gaze just long enough to make his disapproval clear, then turned and left. The slam of the door echoed in the study, making Damon flinch.
“Did he just glare at me?” Damon muttered. He ran a hand across his jaw, scoffing again. “Ridiculous.”
He paced back to the desk, anger simmering under his skin. Why was John acting so soft toward her? Did he forget the kind of family she came from? Did he forget what she represented?
“I can’t believe this,” Damon muttered, hurling the file across the table. Papers scattered. He sank into his chair, arms folded, scowling into the silence.
“Strawberry swirl cheesecake,” he murmured, almost to himself. The words tasted bitter. That was his dessert. His favourite since childhood. The kitchen always made it especially for him. And now she was the one eating it. Smiling.
The image unsettled him more than it should have.
He snatched the file back up, tried to focus on the words in front of him. But less than a minute later, his temper boiled over, and the file went flying again.
With a frustrated exhale, Damon shoved his hands into his pockets and stormed out of the study. His steps were brisk, heavy, carrying him down the hallway he had stormed through earlier.
As he neared the dining room, his pace slowed. He stopped just short of the entrance, positioning himself where he could see inside without being seen.
His eyes immediately found her.
Lana sat at the table, her posture relaxed for the first time since she’d arrived. She took another bite of the cheesecake, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile.
Damon’s chest tightened painfully.
John was there, too, setting another slice onto her plate, pouring her a fresh glass of orange juice. She looked up at him with gratitude, her eyes bright.
Damon’s jaw clenched. His hand fisted inside his pocket.
“That’s mine,” he whispered under his breath. The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Then John turned slightly, his gaze shifting toward the doorway.
Damon stepped back into the shadows on instinct, his pulse quickening
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