THE BILLIONAIRE’S HIDDEN HEIR

Obsession and revenge

Damian’s POV

The click of the lock resisting me was a sweet sound.

Most men would’ve kicked the door down by now, but I wasn’t most men. Force had its place, but fear—fear was an art.

And Calla was already trembling. I could hear it in her breathing through the crack, could imagine her pressed against the other side, holding her ground because it was all she had left.

Good. Let her cling to it. Walls, locks, promises she whispered to herself in the dark—they would all crumble, one by one.

She thought she’d escaped me. That she could vanish into some quiet little life. But she hadn’t learned yet. You don’t run from Damian Vale. You orbit me, like the earth to the sun. And eventually, inevitably, you burn.

I stepped back from the door, hands sliding into my pockets, lips curving. No need to rush. Not yet.

Through the thin curtains, I caught a glimpse of a smaller shadow moving in the back room. The boy.

Lucas.

My jaw tightened. A dangerous cocktail stirred inside me—jealousy, pride, fury.

He had her eyes. That much was obvious. The same shade of storm-kissed gray that used to glare at me across silk sheets and candlelit rooms. The thought twisted in my gut.

Was he mine?

The question had haunted me from the first whisper that Calla was hiding something. Every time I looked at the boy, I saw fragments of her… and pieces I couldn’t quite place.

If he was mine, then she’d stolen years from me. Years I could never get back.

And if he wasn’t…

My teeth clenched.

Then she’d dared to give herself to another man. To carry another man’s blood when she’d sworn—once—that she belonged only to me.

Either way, she had betrayed me. And betrayal always had a price.

I drew a slow breath, the night air sharp and cold in my lungs. No matter the answer, Lucas was the chain. The weakness. The reason she hadn’t run farther, faster.

And I would use it.

Not yet. Not tonight. Tonight, I wanted her to lie awake in that bed, staring at the ceiling, hearing my words echo until she couldn’t breathe without thinking of me.

Patience.

The lion doesn’t waste his claws when the prey is already trapped in the cage.

I turned, walking back to the waiting car parked in the shadows. My men straightened at the sight of me, questions in their eyes.

“She won’t last long,” I said coolly, sliding into the back seat. “Fear eats faster than hunger.”

As the driver pulled away, I allowed myself one final glance at the apartment window.

The curtains twitched, as if someone had been watching.

Good.

Let her know.

Let her feel me, even when I’m gone.

Because soon enough, the only choice she’ll have left… will be to open the door herself.