Bound by the Devil's Cure

Chapter 4 Familiar

The boardroom of High H Incorporated sat on the top executive floor, wrapped in glass walls that overlooked the entire city.

Power lived here.

Money lived here.

Secrets lived here.

Damon Heights sat at the head of the table, fingers steeple beneath his chin, expression unreadable as the presentation slides changed on the large screen.

Revenue charts.

Investment projections.

Operational summaries.

To anyone else, it looked like a normal corporate review meeting. But the tension in the room told a different story. One miscalculation, one accounting irregularity, one shipment discrepancy. That was all it took to start suspicion.

A senior finance director cleared his throat nervously. “There appears to be an inconsistency in the pharmaceutical export reports for the third quarter.”

The room grew quieter. Damon didn’t move, didn’t blink. Across the table, two board members exchanged subtle glances.

They weren’t just directors. They were part of his world. Men who understood the lines between legality and survival. Men tied to the underground network that helped sustain High H’s darker operations.

One of them leaned forward casually.

“It’s not an inconsistency,” he said smoothly. “It’s a classification delay. Regulatory paperwork wasn’t updated in the system.”

The finance director frowned.

“But the shipment quantities don’t match the declared production—”

Another director interrupted, voice firm.

“The shipments were split across subsidiaries. It’s already being corrected. There’s no financial loss.”

Damon finally spoke, low and controlled. “Is there a risk of exposure?”

The room went still.

“No,” the same director replied confidently. “We’ve already adjusted the internal records. External auditors will see clean numbers.”

A long silence followed. Damon studied their faces, measuring loyalty, competence and fear. Then he gave a small nod.

“Good.”

The tension eased slightly.

Around the table, several non-affiliated directors looked confused but unconcerned. Most of them didn’t care how the empire functioned behind the scenes.

High H was profitable. Extremely profitable and Damon Heights owned controlling shares. That alone was enough. Still, disagreements followed. One marketing executive argued about risk exposure. A legal advisor raised concerns about regulatory scrutiny.

Voices overlapped. Sentiments clashed. But eventually, like always, the room bent toward Damon’s authority.

Because at the end of the day— He wasn’t just the CEO. He was the centre of gravity.

“Implement tighter oversight on logistics,” Damon ordered. “No more internal surprises. If there’s a problem, I hear it first.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And restructure the compliance team. I want people we trust.”

Another round of agreement. Damon stood. The signal that the meeting was over. Chairs shifted as executives gathered their documents. Conversations resumed in quieter tones, within minutes, the powerful room emptied.

Alex walked in.

“There’s another matter,” he said.

Damon glanced at him.

“What?”

“The Central city Founder’s gala is tonight. Several political figures will attend. Including Carter Group representatives.”

“Yeah I only hear politics, most of which I hate. Is that all?”

“This is important sir,” Alex continued, “Our influence in business and science is concrete, but we need more. Bring these men to their knees to worship at your altar and heed your words. You have no idea the amount of power your presence alone commands. Most of these men are dying to know you. We have to use them to our advantage.”

Damon’s expression didn’t change, but his attention sharpened.

Business.

Influence.

Opportunity.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

Alex nodded, then hesitated.

“And the museum board confirmed your private viewing request was approved.”

That caught Damon’s interest more.

“Good,” he said quietly.

“If you don’t mind, we can visit the museum first,” Alex suggested.

“Get the car ready immediately. I’ll be at the garage shortly,” Damon instructed.

After the man left, Damon remained standing alone in the silent boardroom. The city lights reflected across the glass walls like scattered fire. Everything was under control, his empire was stable. His enemies contained.

Damon adjusted his cufflinks slowly. Tonight was just another political appearance, another social obligation, another display of power.

-

The private executive corridor was quiet as Damon walked toward the elevator, his footsteps steady against the polished marble floor.

Two associates followed a step behind him — close enough to intervene if necessary, far enough to respect his space.

Employees in the distance lowered their voices as he passed. Some nodded respectfully, others avoided eye contact entirely. Power had a presence and Damon Heights carried it like a second skin.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, but before he stepped in— Movement caught his attention.

A woman stood a short distance away near the reception lounge. She was laughing softly at something her companion had said.

The sound was light. Unrestrained. Unusual in this building.

Damon’s gaze shifted.

And for a fraction of a second— Time slowed.

She was beautiful. Not in the artificial, polished way he was used to seeing, but in something more natural.

Her skin carried a soft golden warmth, smooth and luminous beneath the overhead lights. Her dark hair fell in gentle waves around her shoulders, framing a face that balanced intelligence and quiet strength.

Her eyes— that was what held him. Deep, expressive and almost familiar. Like he had seen them before in another life.

She wore a simple but elegant outfit — professional, modest, yet it clung just enough to reveal the graceful lines of her figure. There was confidence in how she stood, even while smiling.

Beside her was Amanda, one of the research staff, speaking animatedly. But Damon barely noticed the other woman.

Because the first one was staring at him now.

Their eyes met and something flickered across her face. Confusion.

Recognition.

Her brows pulled together slightly, like she was searching through memories that refused to fully surface.

Then—

She pointed at him.

“I think I know you.”

The words were soft, uncertain but clear. The corridor went silent. Amanda’s smile froze. Two nearby employees nearly choked on their own breaths.

No one—

No one—

Addressed Damon Heights like that. Especially not while pointing at him. For a split second, Damon’s steps slowed. His instincts reacted before his thoughts did.

A strange pull. A whisper of familiarity. But logic took over just as quickly. He didn’t know her and he didn’t stop. Without a word, without even acknowledging the statement, he walked past her and entered the elevator.

The doors closed. But as the elevator descended, an image lingered in his mind. Her eyes, they were beautiful.

Meanwhile, inside - Amanda grabbed Chloe’s arm.

“Are you insane?” she whispered urgently. “Do you know who that is?!”

Chloe blinked, still staring at the closed elevator doors.

“…No?”

“He is the Damon Heights,” another colleague said in disbelief. “Youngest hospital director in the country. Youngest CEO of this prominent Pharma Company and top medical graduate from Duke. For the record, countless celebs and socialites as tried to get to his bed, none has succeeded. Don’t put your hopes high.”

Amanda rolled her eyes, “What she is trying to say is that, he is the CEO people don’t even breathe wrong around him and you just pointed at him like you’re accusing him of stealing your lunch!”

Chloe’s eyes widened.

“Oh.”

Amanda looked both horrified and impressed. “I can’t believe you’re still alive,” she muttered.

But Chloe wasn’t listening anymore, because something inside her chest felt strange, unsettled, like a memory trying to wake up.

“I really feel like I’ve seen him before,” she murmured.

Her colleagues exchanged looks.