Chosen By Fang

Chapter four

Damien’s POV

I wrapped up the speech two minutes early.

No one complained.

They were still nodding, still scribbling notes like I’d handed them the secrets of the universe instead of a polished overview of market diversification. I thanked them, smiled the right smile, and stepped away from the podium before the applause had fully died.

I didn’t stay for questions.

I had tracking to do.

Because I knew I’d seen her.

It wasn’t a trick of light, it wasn’t a mis-recognition, or someone similar looking.

It was her. Her messy buns, the slight frown on her face, the flush as soon as my eyes landed on hers, and most of all, the scent. The warm, sweet scent that took me to the green hills of Cambodia.

It was mixed with hundreds of others, but my nose was keen, and it knew what it wanted.

Her.

I needed to make sure, though.

I needed to touch her again. I needed to remind myself of what she felt like…maybe what she tasted like, and free my brain from the torment of the missing pearl.

We would find it.

I knew she, at least had an idea of it’s whereabouts. That much was obvious from how brazing her avoidance of me was.

But some things cannot be avoided.

Damien Fang was one of those things.

“Mr. Fang,” a voice called.

I sighed inwardly and turned.

A professor intercepted me near the aisle, smiling with his hands extended for a handshake I knew I couldn’t refuse “A remarkable address. Truly. Your insights on sustainable capital flow were…”

“Recycled,” I said politely, shaking his hand anyway.

He blinked. Then laughed, assuming I was joking. “Well, even so, you seemed… distracted.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

“A little,” he said, emboldened. “You scanned the room quite a bit. Were you--”

“Looking for someone?” I finished flatly.

He hesitated. “I mean…I wouldn’t say that’s how it was, it’s just--”

“Good,” I said. “Don’t say it, then.”

The smile slid off his face.

I stepped around him without another word. The message was clear, and no matter how sour the message was, people appreciated clarity.

Once free, I moved fast.

The seat where she disappeared from.

I took my eyes off her for one second, and she seized the moment to bolt.

It didn’t matter, though, because she left the one thing that I could use to track her, no matter where she went.

Her scent.

Here, it was concentrated. That same warm-sharp sweetness threaded with nerves and something else I didn’t recognize, but it was her.

My chest tightened.

‘You’re being weird,’ Dane said dryly. ‘You know that, right?’

“She stole from me,” I muttered under my breath.

‘You’re looking intently at a chair.’

“I’m investigating.”

‘You’re just looking for an excuse to chase her.’

“Call it what you want.”

The scent led down the aisle, toward the doors, and where the scents of others thinned out, only hers prevailed, enough for me to sense the terror in her steps.

She must’ve ran here.

Out into the hallway.

The trail sharpened near the restrooms, then fractured.

Soap, disinfectant too many overlapping chemical scents drowned out human scents. I stopped just short of the entrance, fists curling.

She should be here.

I exhaled slowly, pondering on my next course of action. Waiting for her would be the most logical thing to do. If anyone caught me going into the women’s bathroom - and even more so, ‘harassing a woman’, it would spell the beginning of the end of my reputation.

Still, all I wanted to do was tear the doors open and grab her. Take her for myself and not let another living soul near her.

‘This isn’t about the Pearl anymore,’ Dane said quietly.

I straightened, smoothing my jacket, already turning back toward the exit.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I replied.

I wasn’t convinced by my own lie.

‘Absolutely not,’ Dane muttered. ‘You cannot loiter outside a bathroom like a creep.’

“Who says I’m loitering?” I snarled. “You can’t just through terms like that around!” I scolded him aloud, even though he was inside me, and I could’ve kept the talk between just the both of us.

‘You are three steps and one door away from a headline.’

I took a step back just as footsteps echoed behind me.

“Mr. Fang!”

I closed my eyes for half a second. Of course.

Reporters descended like vultures in tailored blazers, microphones appearing out of thin air, cameras already rolling.

Someone shoved a recorder toward my face and I fought the urge to break it…and the hand that pushed it at me.

“Can you tell us more about Blackthorne’s plans for the university?”

“How much investment are we talking?”

“Any plans to acquire talent directly from the school?”

I straightened, slipping effortlessly back into the role they expected. Calm. Polished. Untouchable.

“We’re still assessing long-term partnerships,” I said smoothly. “Education is an ecosystem, not a transaction.”

They nodded and all echoed some sort of agreement like I didn't just say something they already knew.

“And the talent?” one pressed. “There are some exceptional minds here.”

“I’m aware…” I replied.

That’s when I saw her.

She stepped out of the restroom, pale but composed, one hand braced briefly against the wall before she caught herself. Her eyes lifted and locked onto mine.

My entire narrowed, like a lens through which the only thing I could see was her.

Her scent became the only thing that graced the hallway, adding fresh character to the sterile walls, and breathing fresh life into my lungs.

My answer shifted without conscious thought.

“Acquiring some of the brightest minds from this university,” I said, eyes never leaving her, “is among my top priorities.”

Her lips parted slightly.

Then she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

The reporters buzzed, scribbling furiously.

“Does that mean scholarships?”

“Internships?”

“Direct recruitment?”

“We’ll see,” I said absently, already stepping away. “Thank you for your time.”

I didn’t wait for more questions.

By the time I reached the corridor again, she was gone, but her scent lingered, winding forward, playful now, like she knew I’d follow.

I smiled.

Not the polite, public one. The real one.

Dane exhaled slowly. ‘You have your answer. She’s here…and with the pearl.’

“Yes,” I murmured.

‘And you have her in your grasp.’

I inhaled deeply, committing the trail to memory.

“Found you,” I whispered to the empty air.

And then I followed.