Collision between us
517 Words
Damian’s POV
Patience had never been my strength.
And tonight, it was wearing thinner than ever.
The glass of whiskey in my hand barely dulled the restless storm inside me. The city spread out beneath my penthouse, glittering like a thousand temptations, but my mind wasn’t on business or empire. Not tonight.
It was on her.
Calla.
Her name tasted like sin, sweet and dangerous. Every time I saw her, every word she dared to throw at me, only fueled the fire I’d tried—and failed—to bury for years.
But it wasn’t just her anymore.
It was the boy.
My jaw tightened as the image came unbidden: a mop of dark hair, eyes too much like mine, the subtle tilt of his chin. I’d stared at him longer than I should have, every instinct screaming the truth even if she hadn’t said the words.
He was mine.
My son.
And she’d kept him from me.
I slammed the glass down on the table, amber liquid splashing over my cuff. Rage burned through me, sharp and consuming. How dare she? How dare Calla take what was mine and hide it away, pretending he didn’t exist?
But beneath the fury was something else. Something colder.
Resolve.
If Calla thought she could keep this secret forever, she was gravely mistaken. I’d already set the wheels in motion. My men had eyes on her apartment, watching every move she made, every step she took. It was only a matter of time before she slipped, before I had the leverage I needed to drag her back into my world where she belonged.
I wasn’t going to ask.
I wasn’t going to beg.
I was going to take.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. My head of security, Marcus, stepped inside. His face was grim, but steady. “We’ve confirmed it,” he said. “The boy—Lucas—he’s hers. And, Damian… he’s yours.”
The final thread of denial snapped.
I leaned back in my chair, a cruel smile tugging at my lips. “Good,” I murmured. My heart thundered with a mixture of fury and something dangerously close to excitement.
Marcus hesitated. “What do you want us to do?”
I let the silence stretch, savoring the power coursing through me. This wasn’t just business anymore. This was blood. This was legacy.
“I want them both,” I said finally. My voice was low, lethal. “Bring me Calla. And the boy stays where he is until I say otherwise. No harm touches him. He’s mine.”
Marcus gave a sharp nod and left, leaving me alone with the quiet hum of victory.
I poured myself another drink, but this time, the whiskey burned sweeter.
Because now, there was no doubt.
Calla might hate me. She might fight me with every breath in her body. But fate had already chosen. She carried my name once.
And through the boy, she always would.
Sooner or later, she would come back to me.
And this time, there would be no escape.
- Writer
