Chapter 05: Breakfast With Princes And Demons.
1605 Words
Lila's POV
“Hey, Lila, wakey-dokey! You’re late!” Ethan’s voice roared up the stairs, exaggerated and playful, like he was a stand-up comedian trying to get the audience to clap.
I groaned into my pillow, smiling despite myself. Only Ethan could make laziness feel like an event. By the time I dragged my body out of bed and threw on an oversized shirt, I heard him again...closer this time. “Don’t make me come up there, lil baby. I will.”
I opened the door just in time to see him running up the stairs dramatically, his arm stretched out like a prince charming ready to catch his runaway bride. “There she is!” he grinned, stopping two steps below me and bowing low. “Princess Fiona finally awakens from her beauty sleep. Shall I escort you to breakfast, Your Highness?”
I rolled my eyes but my lips betrayed me with a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re late,” he shot back, grabbing my hand before I could protest. His palm was warm, steady. He half-dragged, half-led me down the grand staircase toward the dining room, humming like some kind of Disney character.
The counter was already set, shining silverware catching the morning light. Ethan pulled out a chair for me, then sat beside me like a proud guard. “So,” he said, eyeing me up and down, “what’s your excuse? Don’t say beauty sleep because that clearly didn’t work.”
I gasped. “Excuse you? I woke up earlier than you. I was reading.”
He narrowed his eyes, grinning. “Lies. All lies. You were drooling into your pillow.”
“I was not!” I slapped his arm playfully.
“Yes, you were. In fact, I had to put a glass of water on the edge of your nightstand so when you roll over, it pours on you. That was my plan.”
I gasped again, laughing. “You’re evil!”
“Evil but clever.” He winked, holding up his hands as if surrendering. “Admit it, I’d pull it off.”
I smacked his shoulder harder this time. “You’re a jerk.”
He pretended to rub the spot, groaning dramatically. “Abuse. Actual abuse. Should I call Child Protective Services?”
“You’re not a child.”
“I am, in my soul,” he said with mock seriousness, then leaned closer. His voice softened, dropping the teasing edge. “Lila, I actually… wanted to tell you something.”
The change in tone sent a flutter through me, unexpected and unwelcome. My heart skipped, just once, but enough to make me swallow hard. His eyes searched mine like he wanted me to really listen.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Tell me.”
But before the words could leave his lips, I heard it, the slow, deliberate sound of footsteps descending the stairs. Heavy, measured, powerful.
My stomach twisted.
I didn’t need to see the face. The very air shifted, charged with something thick, masculine, and dangerous. A scent drifted into the dining hall, something expensive, dark, woodsy, with an undertone of smoke. It was unfair how a smell alone could make my pulse stutter.
And then he appeared.
Damien.
The same man whose car headlights almost blinded me last night. The same man whose arrogance was carved into his jawline, whose cold stare had reduced me to silence.
Our eyes met for half a second. My chest tightened.
Then he looked away.
The moment broke like glass underfoot. He passed the last step with predatory grace, each movement so controlled it made Ethan’s playful energy seem like child’s play. Damien didn’t acknowledge me. He didn’t need to. The tension in my chest was acknowledged enough.
He stopped near the dining table, his gaze sliding from Father, to Ethan, and pointedly skipping me...back to the ground. Without a word, he turned toward the door.
“Damien,” Ethan called, his tone light but questioning. “Its family get together, cmon do not tell me you not gon wait around for family breakfast?”
He paused mid-step, shoulders tightening, but he didn’t turn around. His voice came low, clipped. “Ride on without me.”
My eyes flicked to Father, who frowned, shaking his head. “Son. This is important. We haven’t had time together in months. Not with business trips and...”
Damien finally turned, slowly, with the kind of ego that filled the room before he even spoke. His gaze cut through Father, through Ethan, but never touched me. “I don’t think this qualifies as family breakfast.”
Silence. Utter silence.
Father’s brow furrowed. “And why is that?”
Damien’s lips curved, not into a smile but something sharper. He let his gaze sweep the table...finally landed on me. His eyes burned, cold and scorching at once. My breath hitched.
“Because there’s a stranger here,” he said.
Heat crawled up my neck. Ethan shifted in his chair beside me, clearly annoyed. “Damien, come on. Don’t do that. You know Dad wrote us an email about this....”
Damien’s eyes cut to Ethan. “Did I send back a reply to that email?”
Ethan hesitated. “How was I supposed to...”
“Exactly,” Damien snapped. His gaze slashed back to me, dark and sharp. “So even if Father thinks we’re welcoming a new… sister, it won’t be someone this...” he gestured toward me with a flick of disdain, “ordinary. Local. Out of her depth. Dad could do better than this.”
His words sliced deeper than a knife. Not just cruel, precise.
Father’s voice boomed. “Enough! Damien, that’s enough!”
But Damien only gave a cold chuckle, a sound that sent goosebumps up my arms. “Ride on without me,” he repeated, his voice laced with finality.
He turned again, heading for the door.
Ethan stood quickly. “Why are you being so harsh to a girl you don’t even know?”
That stopped him. He pivoted slightly, just enough for his eyes to catch mine again. The contact pinned me where I sat.
“Tell them, stranger,” Damien said, voice low and lethal. “Tell them if this is really the first time we’ve met.”
My throat dried. My palms sweated. I swallowed hard. The memory of last night...the headlights, the anger, my shouting, flooded back like poison.
Yes, I was wrong. But his reaction? It was overkill. Like I’d struck some hidden nerve I didn’t understand.
He started walking again, and something inside me snapped. I pushed to my feet, legs trembling but stubborn. “Hold on, Damien.”
The words left me before I could stop them.
He froze. Turned. His face was a mask of steel, his eyes the kind that could kill with a look.
“What,” he asked, voice quiet but lethal, “exactly did you just say?”
I took two steps forward, then faltered. My voice came smaller, weaker than I wanted. “I said… I’m sorry. What happened last night… it was out of frustration. I shouldn’t have…”
His expression didn’t change. He simply reached into his pocket, pulled out his sunglasses, slid them on, and walked out.
I stood there, heat flooding my cheeks, humiliation crawling over my skin. My apology hung in the air like smoke no one wanted to breathe.
If I weren’t so desperate to win this family’s heart, I’d have cut him down right there. I wasn’t spineless. Back in my town, a man like him would have been put in his place before he even finished that insult.
But here? I tucked my hair behind my ear, swallowing hard. I’d play along...for now.
“Wow.” Ethan’s voice broke the silence, amused and teasing. “The pout. Priceless. You looked like a kid caught stealing cookies.”
I smacked his chest, but laughter bubbled out despite my embarrassment.
“You act all tough,” he went on, wagging his finger, “telling me stories about how you used to run things in your old neighborhood, but the second Damien breathes in your direction....boom. Alpha female gone. Just poof.”
I covered my mouth with both hands, still laughing. “He doesn’t like me here, Ethan.”
“No, he doesn’t like anyone here,” Ethan said, shrugging. “Don’t take it personally.”
He reached out, brushing a lock of hair off my face. His touch was soft, reassuring. “Besides, if he ever tries something, I’ll kick his ass.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossible but lovable.” He leaned back, grinning wide. Then his voice dipped lower, conspiratorial. “Hey. Wanna come with me to a party tonight?”
I frowned. “No.”
His hand clutched his chest like I’d stabbed him. “No? As in no? As in rejecting your amazing, funny, stylish brother?”
“Yes.”
He gasped. “Fine. But if you don’t come with me tonight, you’re officially not allowed to call me your big bro again. Ever. Don’t test me.”
I laughed so hard I nearly choked, pressing my head against his chest for balance. His heartbeat was steady, comforting. His hand slid up, rubbing my hair gently.
He was everything I needed in a guy. Warm, flirty, protective. Everything… and yet.
When he tilted my chin up, smiling, promising I’d be fine, his words wrapped around me like a blanket.
But deep down, somewhere hidden, lingered my concern for Damien...Huh !
- Writer
