The billionaire lost flame

chapter 3:The conflict begin's

For Damian Cole, it was the start of a storm even though the night should have been winding down.

He could hardly hear the muffled clinking of glasses, the laughter, and the chatter that still occupied the grand dining hall. All he could do was think about Elara.

She had left him as if he did not exist.

And perhaps he deserved it.

Thinking he was doing her some good, he had left her in the dark, without clue, without voice. that she would be insulated from the horror of his universe by cutting him loose.

He had underestimated her, he had found out when he saw her tonight, as she moved past the crowd with the ease and familiarity of being somewhere she should have been instead of where he had left her.

She was not the shattered little girl he'd left behind.

She was different.

She was stronger now than she used to be.

And yet, nothing changed because of it.

He was still the owner.

He filled himself the final of his whisky and set the glass down a fraction too hard. Cassandra's sharp eyes flicked his way.

"What's wrong, sweetie? With her hand still resting on his arm as though she owned him, she asked in a sweet tone.

He had barely endured her presence all night long.

And he had done as she had requested.

Damian slid her hand from his sleeve slowly and intentionally.

Her face twisted in a scowl, but she quickly concealed it.

He rose to his feet from his chair and said bluntly, "I need some air."

Vanessa smiled. "You need more than that."

Brushing him aside, Damian strode away, in one direction that counted.

Elara's direction.

—

Sitting at the bar, Elara wrapped her fingers around a glass of wine she wasn't going to have.

Across the room, she sensed the weight of Damian's gaze, the moment he stood and began moving toward her.

Her heart pounding, she compelled herself to stay immobile.

She had changed from the woman who had waited for him and clung to his every utterance as if he could create or annihilate her life.

No.

The girl was gone.

"Elara."

She felt a shiver at the sound of his voice.

She drew breath slowly and met his gaze. "Damian."

He was far more destructive up close. He was colder now, his piercing green eyes unfamiliar, his chiseled jawline bearing the weight of duty.

They didn't say anything for a long time.

Damian let out a sigh. "We need to talk."

She gave a bitter laugh. "Oh? Do you want to talk now?"

"Elara—"

"No," she interrupted, her tone even. "I'm at work, Damian. Don't say anything you think I should hear.".

He locked his jaw together. "You have no idea what I am going to say."

"And I don't care," she retorted harshly.

Lie.

She was fretting too much.

But she was not going to let him have that hold on her.

Damian inched closer, his presence looming and overpowering. "We both know that you still do care, despite how much you want to claim otherwise."

He was right, and she seethed.

She hated that her body had deceived her again, even now, in his presence, her breathing ragged, her heart racing.

She would not make him aware of it, however.

She said flatly, "I stopped caring about you a long time ago." "You should return to your fiancée."

There was a spark in his eyes. Are you angry? Possession? Apology?

He did not dispute it.

He did not, of course.

Her chest ached worse than it ought to due to it.

"Elara—"

She ducked his stare. "Good night, Damian."

And she did not allow him to hold her back this time.

—

Damian's calm revived as he watched her vanish into the deserted corridors toward the kitchens.

She was closing him out.

And he would not permit it.

"Elara."

His fingers curled around her wrist and stopped her just as she stepped into the deserted hallway towards the kitchens.

Her eyes blazed with anger as she spun about. "Give me a break."

"Not until you listen." He said the words in a low, menacing tone.

She breathed unsteadily as she broke her arm free. "Damian, you have no right to make any demands on me. No more."

His eyes narrowed. "You think that I can take this so lightly? Finding you here, pretending that we don't exist?"

Elara smiled, stammering in laughter. "That's because, Damian, we are nothing."

He set his jaw. "That's not true."

"Isn't it? The tension between them was palpable as she moved closer. Damian, you walked out. That was your decision. You walk in here today, five years later, and you order me to—what? Throw myself into your arms?"

He remained silent.

because he had no idea what to say.

Because he couldn't admit the secret truth: that he wanted exactly that.

Elara shook her head. "You don't get to show up and pretend to care."

Damian huffed a raspy breath. "I was always afraid."

She inhaled sharply but controlled her breathing instantly. "Oh, really? Then, Damian, where were you when I needed you the most? When your family made sure I never quite met your expectations?"

Quiet.

The atmosphere crackled around them.

Then, from the far end of the hall, there came a slow, derisive clap.

Vanessa turned abruptly.

With her arms folded and a sly smile on her lips, the blonde leaned against the wall.

She drewled, "How dramatic." "You two have always loved your little emotional scenes."

Elara's stomach knotted. Not her. Not now.

Damian's expression turned hard. "Vanessa, what in hell do you want?"

She tsked. "Calm down, sir. I was just on my way to tell our dear cook that she is no longer required."

Elara stopped.

A warning flashed in Damian's eyes. "Avoid it."

"Oh," Vanessa breathed quietly, "don't look at me like that." "Father believes that keeping someone who obviously still has a crush on you around is a conflict of interest."

Elara's heart plummeted.

With anger radiating from him, Damian took a step forward. "She cannot be fired."

Vanessa's head was c****d to one side. She smiled at Elara and said, "Oh, but we can."

"Don't look so surprised, my love. You expected this.

Elara puffed out her shoulders and swallowed the lump in her throat. She would not allow them to see her c***k.

Without them, she had constructed her career.

She could manage without them.

She raised her chin and looked at Vanessa. "All right. I'm going.

Damian's eyes flashed into hers. "Elara—"

In a harsh tone, she said, "I have a restaurant to run." "This job is not necessary for me."

She held her head high as she strode past them.

Her hands, however, curled into fists the moment she left the hall.

Because, no matter how much she tried to pretend like it didn't hurt—

Yes, it did.

She vowed to herself that she would not let Damian Cole defeat her this time.