Chapter 7
879 Words
POV: Damian
By the time I returned from the grocery store, I had learned three things.
First, shopping baskets became painfully heavy far quicker than they looked.
Second, cashiers expected me to bag my own groceries.
Third, carrying six bags up three flights of stairs should qualify as an Olympic sport.
I shifted another bag higher on my arm and glared at the staircase.
"We meet again."
The staircase remained unimpressed.
By the time I reached the second floor, I was breathing harder than I'd ever admit to another living soul.
A small voice behind me asked, "Mister... are you okay?"
I turned.
A little girl with two messy pigtails was staring at me while holding a stuffed dinosaur.
"I'm perfectly fine."
She tilted her head.
"My grandpa makes that face when he's about to sneeze."
"...Thank you."
"I don't think it was a compliment."
She skipped away before I could recover.
Children were terrifying.
I finally reached the third floor and nearly cried with relief.
Then I saw the crowd.
Again.
Mrs. Alvarez.
Mr. Wilson.
Three teenagers.
Emma.
And three delivery men standing beside enough wooden crates to furnish a mansion.
One of the delivery workers spotted me immediately.
"Mr. Damian Knight?"
I stopped walking.
Every instinct I had screamed, Turn around.
Unfortunately, they had already seen me.
"Yes?"
The man smiled.
"Excellent! We've brought your espresso machine, premium cookware, imported mattress, smart television, luxury coffee beans, wine chiller—"
Emma slowly turned toward me.
Her expression was calm.
Too calm.
"...What's all this?"
I looked at the mountain of crates.
"I can explain."
"Wonderful."
She folded her arms.
"I'm listening."
"I... forgot I placed the order."
Mr. Wilson wandered over to inspect one of the labels.
He let out a low whistle.
"This coffee machine costs more than my first car."
Mrs. Alvarez gasped.
"I didn't know coffee had tax brackets."
The delivery driver pulled out a clipboard.
"Where would you like us to install everything, sir?"
Before I could answer, another familiar voice echoed from the stairwell.
"Ethan Hayes?"
I froze.
Ethan walked upstairs carrying a duffel bag and the grin of a man who had woken up hoping for chaos and found paradise.
"Perfect timing," he said cheerfully.
Emma looked between us.
"You know each other?"
"We're old friends."
"Unfortunately," I muttered.
Ethan ignored me and looked at the delivery crew.
"Oh."
He clapped dramatically.
"I see someone forgot Rule Number Four."
I closed my eyes.
"I remembered."
"When?"
"Just now."
Ethan addressed the delivery men.
"I'm afraid none of these can stay."
One of them blinked.
"But sir, the order's been paid for."
"I know."
"Should we refund it?"
"No."
"Then..."
"Take everything back."
The workers exchanged confused looks.
Mr. Wilson scratched his head.
"You bought expensive things... just to send them away?"
Ethan answered before I could.
"He's detoxing."
"From what?" Mrs. Alvarez asked.
"Convenience."
She nodded thoughtfully.
"Sounds serious."
"It is."
Emma's eyes stayed on me.
She wasn't laughing.
She wasn't smiling.
She was studying me.
Trying to figure me out.
I didn't like how perceptive she seemed.
The delivery driver sighed.
"Sir, we'll need a signature for the return."
I signed the form.
He looked at the signature.
Then at me.
His eyebrows shot up.
"You look familiar."
Ethan coughed loudly.
"People tell him that all the time."
"I swear I've seen you on—"
"Nope," Ethan interrupted. "Different handsome guy."
The driver looked unconvinced but accepted the paperwork.
A few minutes later, the truck pulled away with every crate still inside.
Silence settled over the hallway.
Mr. Wilson finally spoke.
"I've never seen anyone reject a free television."
"It wasn't free," I said.
"That's even stranger."
Emma stepped closer.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Depends."
"Who exactly are you?"
For one dangerous second, I forgot how to breathe.
Had she figured it out?
Her gaze never left mine.
"You don't act broke," she continued. "But you don't act spoiled either."
"I burned instant noodles."
"You did."
"You've seen me lose arguments with a closet."
"I have."
"I got attacked by a flower basket."
"The flowers won."
"So maybe I'm just... confusing."
The corner of her mouth twitched.
"I'll give you that."
She walked downstairs without another word.
I watched her disappear.
Ethan moved beside me.
"That was close."
"Too close."
He lowered his voice.
"You know she's going to keep asking questions."
"I know."
"And if she discovers you're Damian Knight, billionaire CEO, before the six months are over..."
"I lose the bet."
"You also lose the lesson."
I looked down the staircase where Emma had vanished.
For the first time since this ridiculous challenge began...
I wasn't worried about losing a bet.
I was worried about disappointing one stubborn apartment manager who had no idea who I really was.
My phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's polished voice came through the speaker.
"Mr. Knight, this is your executive assistant. There's an emergency at the company. The board insists they need you in person immediately."
Before I could answer, another voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.
"Damian!"
Emma.
"I forgot to tell you something!"
I looked from my phone...
...to the staircase.
Two worlds.
One secret.
And both were about to collide.
- Writer
