Five
1015 Words
Grace felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest, her stomach twisting, when Damien muttered, “Come back for a minute.” She clenched her fists, hesitation coursing through her.
But, as if God had mercy on her, Damien’s phone vibrated on his nightstand. She seized the moment and bolted from his room as fast as she could.
Damien, unfazed, picked up the call. It was his grandfather, always awake at random hours, always keeping Damien in check.
“Yes, Nonno?”
“Where have you been? Why are you still up?”
Damien chuckled. “Why are you up?”
Born into old money, Damien was the heir to a family empire rooted in luxury real estate and high-end investments. He grew up surrounded by wealth, prestige, and expectation. The only son of the only daughter of the Valentinis, he severed ties with his father the moment he discovered the betrayal.
On the other side of the door, Grace’s heart still hammered. Did he recognize her? No… that couldn’t be. She barely recognized herself that night, and they were both drunk.
Kate had found Grace with her hands on her chest.
“You saw a ghost again, didn’t you?” Kate joked, balancing an empty laundry basket on her hip.
“Kate! Could you… serve him, just for tonight? Please!” Grace pleaded. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing Damien again so soon. The last thing she wanted was another encounter—or for him to see her like that.
Kate gave her a curious look. “Okay?”
After a soft knock, Kate entered Damien’s room. He had just ended his conversation with his grandfather, discussing some random island and land they needed to buy for a new hotel. His grandfather had always seen Damien’s immense potential from a young age, yet never pressured him. Damien excelled effortlessly, naturally. That brilliance made him golden in his grandfather’s eyes—a true heir to the Valentini legacy.
Damien had just been about to ask her about her perfume, but the thought slipped. Take the tea. I’m done.
Kate nodded. “Do you need anything else, sir?”
“Tell Madam Eve we’ll be visiting my grandfather this weekend.”
The music blared as Damien stepped into his bar, Tof walking ahead to part the crowd. Heads turned, eyes filled with awe. Damien exuded effortless charm and power, commanding attention without saying a word. Nothing new—he was here every night.
“You!” a woman exclaimed, stepping in front of Tof. “How do you know her—my cousin?”
“Who? Who even are you?” Tof asked, confused.
“She’s the one you said was okay that night. How did you know her?”
Damien lightly nudged Tof aside. “You’re her cousin?”
“Yeah. And who are you?”
The music swelled around them. Damien motioned for Tof to take her to their VIP room. Once the noise faded slightly, Damien extended his hand. “I’m Damien.”
The woman froze, starstruck. “Bi… Bianca. I’m engaged,” she stammered, reminding herself.
Damien scoffed. “Congratulations. Now, I want to ask about your cousin.”
“Seriously, how do you people know her? Is she in some… mafia game? Oh my God.”
Mafia? Tof mouthed to Damien. He shrugged. “We’re not in a gang. We spent the night together, but I didn’t get her name or number.”
Bianca’s eyes widened. “Wow… you? Good for her. Wait… maybe there’s a reason she didn’t give you her name. Are you lying to me?”
“Why would I lie?” Damien clenched his jaw. She was getting on his nerves. He just wanted her cousin’s name and number.
“Look, as pretty as you are, I don’t think my cousin will give up that easily. If she refuses to give her name or number, she has her reasons.”
“How much?”
“What?”
“How much do I have to pay for your cousin’s name and number?”
Bianca laughed. “You’re in a mafia and crazy and arrogant.”
“She’s getting married, Dame,” Tof muttered beside him.
Damien got the hint. If money didn’t work, maybe generosity would. “Okay, Ms. Bianca. Congratulations again on your engagement. I’d like to pay for the wedding.”
“Already paid. Your money doesn’t amuse me.”
“Then I’ll pay for your honeymoon.” Damien handed her his business card.
“We’re going to Hawaii for three days. All expenses covered by his parents,” Bianca smirked.
Tof laughed, watching his friend struggle to impress a woman—something new for a change. “Five days in Monaco, all expenses paid. Everything under my name. Buy a car if you want.”
Bianca paused. “Monaco?”
“Monaco. First-class flight. Five-star hotel.”
She thought for a moment. Monaco—luxury, exclusivity… maybe her cousin was already looking for him.
“Five days, and you’ll refund our Hawaii trip,” she bargained.
Damien brushed his hand through his hair, jaw tightening. “Fine. For a f*cking name and number.”
“Just her name.”
“Okay, you’re pushing it,” Tof muttered, annoyed.
“Just the number then. You can ask for her name yourself.” She reached for Damien’s business card, but he pulled it away and handed her his phone.
“I don’t know what she did, but you’re willing to spend this much on her… Wait. You’re not going to k*ll her, right?”
“WE. ARE. NOT. MAFIA,” Tof said slowly.
“There.” She snatched Damien’s card. “Keep your word, or I will—You’re a Valentini?”
Her blood drained from her face. F*ck… did I just ruin my cousin’s life? she thought.
“I have to go,” Bianca muttered, fleeing. She needed to warn her cousin about what she’d done.
Meanwhile, Damien’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk. He couldn’t resist dialing her immediately.
- Writer
