Damien came down for breakfast that morning, his steps unhurried but thoughtful, the polished wood of the stairs creaking beneath his feet. The estate was quiet as usual, as though holding its breath, bracing for something unseen. He hadn't expected anyone else to be at the table, especially not her.
But there she was.
Ava sat at the breakfast table, already dressed in a simple pale blue blouse that complimented her skin. Her hair was loosely pinned at the back and a mug of steaming hot chocolate cupped in her hands. Her avocado toast sat untouched on the plate before her, butter melting lazily in the warmth. She brought the cup up to her lips and took a sip. As Damien came down the few last steps of the stairs, Ava looked up her from her mug.
She smiled immediately their eyes met and set her mug down.
"Good morning," she greeted, her voice light, as if their conversation the day before hadn't ended in wary silence. "I thought you weren't coming down. I was about to ask Emily to send your breakfast to your room."
Damien paused at the foot of the stairs, momentarily thrown off by the calm in her tone and that smile. After the tense and cutting honesty they had exchanged yesterday, he had expected her to drift further away from him. Perhaps even avoidance but definitely not this.
He crossed the room slowly. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice giving away a hint of his surprise.
Ava blinked innocently at him, lifting her mug again with deliberate ease. Her expression held mild confusion like she had no idea what he was talking about. "I'm having breakfast."
"I can see that," Damien said, walking to the coffee machine. "What are you doing acting all friendly this morning?"
She tilted her head slightly and set the mug down. "I'm trying to earn your trust."
Damien's back stiffened as he reached for a cup, pouring himself black coffee. The clink of ceramic was the only sound for a moment.
"Why is it my trust you're trying to earn?" he asked finally. "It's your trust I need."
"I trust you," Ava said quietly.
Damien turned and glazed up to look Ava in the eye, his brows lifted. "Do you now?"
Their eyes locked. For a second, the room contracted into that single and unblinking moment.
Ava faltered, her gaze shifting away. "I do… a bit."
Damien took a slow sip of his coffee. "You don't at all."
"You don't give me a reason to," she countered, meeting his eyes again with a quiet firmness.
He didn't reply immediately. His silence, as usual, said more than any words could. But the absence of denial was its own kind of confession.
"You know I'm right," she said, taking a bite of toast, the edge of her tone gentler now.
Just as Damien opened his mouth to respond, a knock came. The butler stepped into the room with a measured bow, disrupting the moment.
"Yes, Bernard?" Damien asked, a slight edge of irritation sharpening his voice. He obviously did not like the interruption.
"Mr. Blackwood is here," the butler announced with polite tone.
Ava looked up from her plate, her interest piqued. "Blackwood?" she echoed. "A family member?"
Damien's expression shifted subtly and then like it never shifted went back to normal. Damien's face held an unreadable expression as he turned to her with a composed voice but an undercurrent of steel. "Finish your breakfast in your room, Ava."
She blinked confused as her glaze shifted from Damien to Bernard and then back. "Why?"
He didn't answer right away, only returned her stare with one that brooked no protest.
She frowned. "Why can't I meet a member of your family?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.
"He's no one important," Damien replied briskly. "Just go upstairs."
But Ava didn't budge. "Maybe meeting a member of your family will help me trust you."
She hadn't meant to be defiant, but the words slipped out anyway, direct and quietly challenging. Before Damien could respond, the double doors opened, and two men stepped into the room like they owned the air between them.
As the men made their way towards them, the first man caught Ava's attention immediately.
It wasn't hard to tell who he was. He was tall and impeccably dressed in a dark coat, he carried himself with quiet command. He had the same stormy gray eyes as Damien, the same calculated elegance in his stance but with something colder woven through his smile. Handsome, but in a way that felt too deliberate, too sharpened. The aura around him was almost mirrored to Damien's, but where Damien was storm and stone, this man was ice laced with smoke.
But Ava barely registered his presence after a moment. Her eyes widened when they landed on the second man and her stomach turned.
It was the same cab driver who had tried to abduct her.
Her hands clenched involuntarily beneath the table. Her head spun, eyes narrowing in confusion and dread. "What is he doing here?" she asked aloud, more to herself than anyone else.
Before she could say anything more, the first man stepped forward, a practiced smile curling his lips.
"You must be Ava," he said smoothly. "I'm Theron Blackwood. And this," he motioned to the man beside him, "is my assistant, Vale." He added watching her expression carefully. The smile on his face was unfaltered, one that seemed calculating and not genuine.
The assistant stood behind him like a shadow, expression blank and impassive.
Ava's gaze stayed locked on him. "Your assistant tried to kidnap me," she said flatly.
Theron chuckled softly, waving a dismissive hand. "Now now, I'm sure there's an explanation for that…"
"There isn't," Ava snapped, but before she could press further, Damien stepped between them, shielding her with his body.
"Why are you here, Theron?" Damien's voice dropped an octave, each word carved with ice.
Theron's smile remained undeterred. "Hello, cousin. How cruel of you to keep your lovely wife away from the family."
The hostility in Damien's stance was unmistakable now.
"Go upstairs, Ava." His tone left no space for argument.
She hesitated. Her instincts screamed at her to stay, to demand answers. But something about the way Damien said it, quiet, firm, and just a touch urgent, told her that staying any longer would be a mistake. So, without another word, she turned and began to walk out of the room but not before giving Theron one last look.
He held her gaze with unsettling amusement, like he was already imagining the next time they'd speak.
Upstairs, Ava crept toward the balcony overlooking the hallway below, careful not to make a sound. She leaned against the ornate railing, trying to catch pieces of the conversation between the two men. But the thick walls and hushed voices made it impossible to hear.
Still, as she watched them from her perch, Theron's eyes flicked up right at her.
Ava's breath caught in her throat. She ducked behind a marble pillar before he could say anything. Her heart hammered in her chest, hoping he didn't see her.
After a while, she peeked again to make sure the attention was off her.
Carefully, she turned and began walking toward her room, her footsteps hurried and quiet. As she tried to briskly return to her room, she didn't notice that both men had turned slightly towards her as she disappeared around the corner.
She didn't see the flicker of something unreadable in Damien's expression. She didn't see the calculating gleam in Theron's storm gray eyes.