📖 Episode Three – Visitors and Proposals
---
🖤 Damian's Mansion – Morning Frost 🖤
The rain had stopped sometime after dawn.
But the cold still sat heavy over the estate, like a warning in the air.
The driveway was a perfect stretch of black marble, glistening beneath the retreating clouds. Damian stood at the far end of the corridor, sharp in a jet-black suit, sipping coffee that had long gone cold.
He wasn't looking at the sunrise.
He was thinking.
Strategizing.
Remembering.
A knock echoed through the mansion's vast entrance hall.
Soft. But intentional.
No one knocked at Damian's door.
Not unless they were invited… or suicidal.
He didn't look back.
"Let her in," he murmured, just loud enough for the guard near the security panel to hear.
The double doors opened slowly.
And in walked her.
Tall, elegant, dressed in deep burgundy silk that kissed the floor with every step. Gold heels, red lips, a perfume that smelled like foreign money and veiled threats.
Cecilia Vance.
Forty-two, ruthless, perfectly poised. A PR queen turned high-society whisperer. She didn't visit unless something mattered.
"You're looking… colder than usual," she said with a smile that didn't touch her eyes.
"And you're still wasting my time," Damian replied flatly.
Cecilia chuckled. "Oh, Damian. Still allergic to charm."
He didn't reply.
She placed a sleek black folder on the crystal table between them.
"I didn't come here for pleasantries," she said, tone shifting. "There's talk in Zurich. About your interest in merging into real estate in the East sector. It's making certain families… uneasy."
"I don't care about their feelings."
"I'm aware," she replied calmly. "But one of those families isn't like the rest. Marlow & Easton Holdings. Old money. Older secrets. And a man who's not afraid of the dark."
Damian's eyes sharpened.
Cecilia continued. "Silas Easton. Late fifties. Retired from most public appearances. But still dangerous. Very."
Damian leaned back slowly, interest flickering in his icy stare.
"He has a daughter," Cecilia added. "Spiteful. Entitled. Twenty-three. Looks like trouble. Acts like royalty."
"And the wife?" Damian asked.
"Louder than she's allowed to be," Cecilia smirked. "But loyal… to the wrong things."
Silence settled between them.
Then Damian stood. Walked toward the window. Staring out at the stillness of the estate.
"I don't need a warning, Cecilia."
"I know. But you deserve one anyway."
She picked up her bag and turned.
"Just be careful what you provoke," she added. "Some monsters don't bark… they wait."
Then she was gone.
Damian didn't move.
But something in his mind did.
Silas Easton.
A name from long ago.
A threat he had buried.
Until now.
---
🎒 Liana – After School Shadows 🎒
The air had cleared after the rain. Streets glistened like washed glass. And Liana walked with her hoodie pulled halfway over her curls, her bag bouncing against her hip, headphones in… but no music playing.
Just thoughts.
Heavy. Strange.
She reached the alley that cut behind the auto shop—her shortcut home—when a familiar voice stopped her.
"Hey! Liana, wait up!"
She turned.
Darren.
Tall. Always carrying his camera. A quiet guy with wide shoulders and quiet eyes. They'd grown up on the same block. Ate the same powdered cereal as kids. Fought over swings in first grade.
Now, he looked… nervous.
"Hey," she said, brushing a curl behind her ear.
He jogged to catch up. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just tired. Long day."
"Yeah, I figured," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, um… I've been thinking."
Oh no.
Liana's stomach dipped.
"Thinking about?" she asked carefully.
He looked her in the eyes. Real. Honest.
"I like you, Li. I mean—I've always liked you. But lately it's been more than that. I… I wanna be more than friends. I wanna be your boyfriend."
Liana blinked.
Words caught in her throat.
Not because she hadn't thought about it before. Darren was sweet. Good-looking. Familiar. Safe.
But something inside her… felt distant. Like a wall between her heart and his.
She forced a small smile. "Darren…"
"It's okay," he said quickly. "You don't have to say anything right now. Just… think about it, yeah?"
She nodded slowly. "Okay. I will.. think about it.."
He smiled, a little too fast, then waved and walked away.
Liana stood still.
Watching his back disappear down the road.
He was everything her mother would approve of.
But… something was off.
As if her heart knew something her mind didn't yet.
---
🏰 Elsewhere – The Easton Estate 🏰
Miles away…
Far from Liana's life, beyond the city limits and within iron gates that never opened freely… stood another kind of home.
Easton Manor.
A sprawling ancestral estate layered in vines, secrets, and hushed power.
Inside, a man stood near the grand fireplace, lighting a cigar with a slow, steady hand.
Silas Easton.
Late fifties. Wealth thicker than his bloodline. Wrath older than most countries.
He didn't talk often.
But when he did, people listened.
Behind him, his wife, Isobel, paced the parlor in pearls and frustration.
"I don't see why we can't just force the contract," she snapped. "You have power. Use it."
"I don't need to use it," Silas said calmly. "I just need to watch. The pieces are already moving."
Their daughter, Celeste, sat on the velvet couch, scrolling through her phone with a scowl.
"This place is boring," she snapped. "Why are we even back here?"
"Because," Silas said without turning, "someone's about to challenge our legacy."
Celeste scoffed. "Let them. I'm ready to burn anyone who messes with us."
He finally turned. His stare was colder than stone.
"You won't burn anyone," he said, voice like thunder before the storm. "You'll watch. And you'll wait. Because the game is bigger than you."
Celeste rolled her eyes. But inside, something fluttered.
Because when her father talked like that…
Things changed.
Things disappeared.Her voice was soft, yet certain.
"Dad," she said.
Silas looked up from his whisky glass.
"I want him."
He didn't blink. "Who?"
Celeste raised her chin like she was announcing a royal decree.
"Damian "
Silas raised one brow. "You want his company?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, father. I want him. The man. I want him to be my boyfriend."
Isobel — standing near the piano with a glass of wine — nearly choked. "Celeste, darling, do you hear yourself?"
Silas looked at his daughterÂ
"You've never met him," he said.
"I don't need to," Celeste replied. "I've read enough. Seen enough. He's cold, yes. But I can handle cold. I'm not some little girl. I can thaw a man like that."
Isobel sighed. "You can't even thaw your attitude."
Celeste smirked. "I'm serious, Dad. I want him. And if we play this merger smart, I could have him."
Silas finally stood. Walked toward the window overlooking their massive estate.
"Damian Voss doesn't fall for flirtation," he said coolly. "He doesn't bend to wealth or beauty. If you go to him like a spoiled child, you'll be broken before you step through the door."
"I'm not scared of him."
"Then you're not ready," he said simply.
Celeste stood now too, anger glowing behind her expensive makeup.
"Are you saying I'm not good enough?"
"I'm saying he's not a toy," Silas replied without turning. "He's a chess piece. And if I decide to move him… it won't be for your entertainment."
Celeste clenched her jaw.
But she said nothing more.
Not yet.
Because she'd already decided.
And when Celeste Easton made up her mind about something… she took it.
Â
 🖤 Damian🖤~
The heavy doors of the mansion clicked shut behind Damian as he entered the back of his Maybach, sharp and composed in a black tailored suit. He didn't glance up once — already lost in a contract on his tablet, jaw tight, movements precise.
"Office," he said curtly.
"Yes, sir," replied the driver, pulling the car away from the gates and into the stretch of quiet roads ahead.
The city moved in blurs beyond the tinted windows — people hurrying, lives buzzing, none of it touching him. Damian existed above it. Outside it.
Until—
🚸 A flash of color.
A girl stepped into the road from behind a parked van.
The driver saw her too late.
"Shit!" he swore, slamming the brakes.
Screeeeech.
The car jolted forward and stopped hard — just inches from her.
But not soon enough.
đź’Ą Thud.
Liana slipped as she turned, landing hard on the pavement. Her school bag flew from her shoulder, spilling books into the road. Her breath caught, and pain shot up her ankle.
Damian looked up sharply, annoyance flashing through his features.
The driver jumped out immediately, rushing to her side. "Miss—! Are you okay? I didn't see you coming, I swear!"
Liana winced, trying to sit up. Her hoodie was scuffed, palm scraped. "I— I didn't hear anything. I had my music on…"
The girl was trying to stand—
but couldn't.
Liana winced, her right leg trembling beneath her. The pain in her ankle spiked when she put weight on it, forcing her to lean back against the wall for support. Her breaths were shallow. Embarrassed. Stubborn.
"Miss…" the driver said, hesitating, worry creasing his brow. "You're hurt. You're not walking properly."
She shook her head quickly, clutching her bag to her chest like armor. "I'll be fine."
But she wasn't.
The driver glanced over his shoulder at the tinted car window… then exhaled and stepped closer to the rear door. He knocked once, quietly.
The glass slid down.
Damian's eyes locked onto him — cold, still, unreadable.
"She's limping, sir," the driver said carefully. "She might be injured. Should we take her to a clinic?"
A long pause.
Damian's gaze shifted — past the driver, toward the girl who now leaned slightly on a streetlight pole, trying not to cry or fall. Her hoodie was dusted from the ground, one shoe half-off, her fingers visibly shaking.
Then… he looked away.
"No."
One word. Flat. Final.
The glass rolled back up.
The driver froze for a moment. Then, with a regretful glance at Liana, he returned to the car.
"I'm sorry," he murmured to her. "Truly."
Liana didn't respond.
She just watched as the black Maybach pulled away slowly, disappearing down the quiet street — its presence lingering in the air like smoke.
She stood there for a moment longer, heart thudding, ankle burning, and an ache in her chest she couldn't quite explain.
It wasn't the pain.
It was the way he looked at her.
Like she was nothing.
Just another thing in the way.
TBC
@highlight
Esther's bookline and World