Rejected By My Mate; Loved By His Brother

Chapter 2

Elena’s POV

I walked back into the kitchen, pulling out another coffee cup to prepare a fresh brew for Damian. As the machine whirred to life, I rested my hand on the counter, lost in thought about what had happened earlier in his room—the way I always felt whenever I was near him.

Once the coffee was ready, I poured it into the cup and carried it to his room. When I arrived, I knocked and waited until I heard his voice from inside.

“Just come in,” he barked, irritation clear in his tone.

“Here’s your coffee, Damian,” I said quietly, carefully placing the tray on his desk.

He took the cup and sipped it cautiously. “No sugar this time,” he muttered to himself, then sighed and set the cup down. “You can go now, Elena,” he said, already turning back to his work.

Relieved, I turned to leave—only for his voice to stop me. “Elena.”

I turned back, curious and nervous; just being in the same room with Damian always left my heart uneasy. I wanted nothing more than to leave.

“Yes?” I asked softly.

His eyes were hard, yet under them flickered something softer—something he didn’t want anyone to see. “Next time, don’t make that mistake again,” he murmured, referring to the coffee.

I nodded, swallowing my discomfort. “I'll remember that.” Pushing the door open, I turned to leave, but Damian called me back again. “Do you need anything else?” I asked, my eyes holding his gaze. Damian looked confused, as if he wanted to tell me something but couldn't bring himself to do it.

“Shut the door,” he grumbled, just loud enough for me to hear.

Obeying, I stepped out of his room and closed the door behind me. As I made my way to the laundry room, I ran into Ava, one of the other maids.

“Well, look who it is,” Ava sneered as she approached. I took a step back. “Isn’t this our delusional Elena?” she smirked. As usual, I ignored her and tried to walk past, but Ava grabbed my arm and made me stop.

"What do you want this time, Ava?” I asked in a low voice, not in the mood for her games or her mockery. I had already been through enough.

Ava chuckled. “Coming from Damian’s room, are we?” she teased. I didn’t respond. I already knew where this was going.

"Aww, you’re blushing like a newlywed bride. Did you go see your crush?” she taunted. “Did you get to gawk at him like you always do?” she added with a sneer, but I remained silent. Ava was the only one in the mansion who knew about my feelings for Damian. She had once caught me in his room, sniffing one of his shirts before taking it to the laundry. Ever since then, she had used every opportunity to mock me—and even blackmail me.

“Stop it, Ava. Just tell me what you want,” I shot her a sharp glance.

“Listen, I want a few dollars before the end of the week,” Ava threatened, a victorious smirk playing on her face. “If you don’t give me the money, then I will let everyone know your dirty little secret, Elena,” she added. “See you later.” She blew a kiss at me, and I frowned at her before walking away.

I entered the laundry room, my mind racing. With shaking hands, I grabbed a clean shirt from the basket, placed it on the ironing board, and switched on the iron. As I began to press the shirt, worry clouded my thoughts. What if Ava asked for more money? How would I find it?

My hands trembled even more.

What if Luna finds out I have feelings for her eldest son? The thought made my heart pound. I barely had any money, and giving in to Ava's blackmail would leave me with almost nothing. What would I do then? Fear tightened in my chest as I kept ironing, overwhelmed by the thoughts running through my mind.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the faint smell of burning fabric until it was too late. The iron hissed, and I quickly yanked it away, but the damage was done. A dark, ugly scorch mark marred the crisp white shirt. Panic surged through me as I realized, from the brand on the shirt collar, that it belonged to Damian.

My breath caught in my throat. Damian was known for his meticulousness, and he wouldn’t overlook a glaring burn like this. Terrified, I stared at the ruined shirt with tears in my eyes. I could already imagine the cold rage in Damian's eyes when he sees it, and I knew he wouldn’t spare me.

My hands shook as I frantically tried to think of a way to fix the damage, but it was a hopeless chase. The shirt was beyond saving. My mind raced with a million thoughts: What would I say to Nathan? What would he say to me?

I couldn’t afford to cry. Not now. I carefully folded the shirt, hiding the burn mark as best as I could. I needed to find a way out of this mess, but how could I do that? This shirt was a gift from his mother on his sixteenth birthday, and Damian cherished it so much.

While I was thinking about what to do, the door swung open, and a male servant stepped in.

“Young master Damian wants you to bring up his shirts to his room immediately,” the male servant informed me before leaving the room.

“Oh no!” I exclaimed in panic while staring at the ruined shirt in my hand. “What do I say to him?” I mumbled in fear, my heart pounding in my chest. It would have been much better for me if the shirt belonged to anyone but Damian.

I arranged the shirts into a pile in the basket and left the laundry room. Arriving at Damian's room, my heart pounded in my chest. At that moment, I wished I could just disappear, but I knew that was impossible.

Drawing in a deep breath, I knocked on the door.

“Get in,” Damian's usual cold voice echoed from the room.

“You can do this,” I whispered words of encouragement to myself before turning the doorknob and pushing it open.

Stepping into his room, I saw him standing at the window, shirtless, with his back to me. Confusion and panic set in as I froze, my eyes drawn to the strong lines of his body. I couldn’t help but admire him, even as my mind raced with panic. I didn’t know what to do or say; instead, I just kept staring at his exposed back.

“What are you doing standing there? Arrange the clothes and get out,” Damian ordered harshly, which made me even more scared. Damian noticed I hadn’t moved, so out of curiosity, he turned around and looked my way. “Why are you just standing there? Have your feet been stuck to the ground?” he sneered, while I prepared myself for what he was about to say.

“Damian…” I stuttered. “I'm sorry…” I apologized, my lips trembling with fear. Damian furrowed his brow and glanced at me, confused about why I was apologizing.

“What have you done this time?” he asked, his words sounding harsh.

“I…” My lips trembled, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Speak, Elena! Quickly!” Damian urged, irritation evident in his voice.

“I burned a hole in your shirt,” I blurted out, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“You did what?” Damian's eyes darkened as he grappled to process what I had just said. He took a step closer to me, his jaw clenched in anger. “You…did…what?” he repeated slowly now, his voice dangerously low.

I flinched. This would be my last day in this household as a maid; I knew it in my heart.“I ..I burned your shirt, Damian, I’m so sorry,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Where is it?” Damian demanded, his eyes boring into mine, filled with a mix of anger and something else—disappointment, perhaps.

I reached into the basket and pulled out the folded shirt. I held it out to him, my eyes wide with fear, knowing there was nothing I could say that would fix this.

Damian snatched the shirt from my hands and unfolded it. His eyes landed on the scorched mark, and a wave of anger washed over him. Acting on impulse, he threw the shirt back at me, hitting my square in the face.