CHAPTER 44
Damien’s POV
I arrived home late, the weight of a ten–hour client negotiation still sitting squarely between my shoulders. All I wanted was a drink, a moment of silence–maybe a hot shower to rinse off the day.
Instead, I stepped into the noise.
“The nerve of that girl! Acting like she owns the world just because she has a few designs hanging on racks! That boutique isn’t even that impressive. It’s all talk!”
My mother’s voice rang through the hallway, sharp and bitter. I slowed down mid–step, frowning. She was in the sitting room. And she wasn’t alone.
Genevieve was seated beside her, legs crossed neatly, nodding along with a glass of red wine in her hand. She didn’t speak, but the way she leaned in, eyes lit with interest, made it clear she was encouraging every word.
My mother looked up the second I stepped in. Her eyes brightened,
“Damien, finally! You need to talk some sense into that ridiculous woman-
She launched into her tirade without so much as a pause, not noticing how my jaw tightened or how slowly I hung my coat by the door.
Ever since Genevieve told me what my mother had done to Celeste–the belittling, the disdain–something inside me had shifted. Not completely. But enough to take a step back. To start seeing the cracks I’d spent most of my life pretending weren’t there. Still, she was my mother.
So I listened as she ranted about someone who had ‘offended‘ her–yet again. I knew the drill. I usually helped her clean up the mess before my father could hear about it.
“Ugh, I hate her so much,” she ranted. “That girl caused a scene today. Tried to humiliate me! In front of half the city’s most powerful women.”
“What happened this time?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “It was n
nothing. Just theatrics. She fram
framed me, Lied. She even had Madam Diane fooled!”
My mother’s voice was rising now, indignant. “She pretended like I tore her precious gown on purpose!”
She even thrust her wrist toward me, revealing a faint red mark. “Look at this! She grabbed me! Like some street thug.”
My mother’s voice kept climbing, the pitch growing sharper with every word.
–
“She planned the whole thing, Damien,” she continued, bitter and breathless. “You should’ve seen her all doe–eyed innocence one moment, then smug and calculating the next!”
1/4
+20 Bonus
I said nothing. But something cold settled behind my ribs.
“She’s probably sleeping her way up,” she went on, voice laced with venom. “Why else would someone like her suddenly become so popular with politicians‘ wives? You think they care about talent? She’s just manipulative–always pretending to be so fragile
and pitiful when she was married to you, like she didn’t know how to stand on her own-”
That’s when it clicked.
She’s talking about Celeste, I just realized.
I couldn’t believe it–not just the words themselves, but the viciousness behind them. My mother’s mouth moved, but I barely heard her anymore. All I could hear was the pounding of my own pulse. The words she’d used, the disgust in her tone–It broke something open inside me.
She spoke about Celeste like she was nothing. Like she had always been nothing.
Suddenly, I understood.
Celeste hadn’t just endured distance in our marriage. She had endured this. This cruelty. This belittlement. This… hate.
And I hadn’t seen it.
My fists clenched. My shoulders stiffened.
My mother faltered mid–sentence, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the change in my expression.
“Damien?” she said warily.
“Stop talking,” I said, my voice low and tight. “Right now.
Her brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t want to hear another insult. Not another word about Celeste ”
She reeled back. “You’re defending her now?”
“I should have done it a long ti
time ago,” I said through clenched teeth. “I should have seen how you treated her.
Her mouth opened in disbelief.
“Mom, how could you treat her like this?” My voice was low, almost breaking. “I know you don’t like her, but is Celeste really that worthless in your eyes? Just how much have you done to her behind my back…”
The words felt heavy on my tongue. What I once thought were small cracks in the family… were now bleeding wounds laid bare
before me.
For the first time, I realized… I hadn’t known my own mother at all.
My voice turned cold. “You owe her an apology.”
2/4
My mother’s shock twisted into fury. “How dare you?” she seethed. “She was nothing!”
hed. “She was nothing!
+20 Bonus
“Damien,” Genevieve looked at me with pain in her eyes. “How can you defend Celeste so much after everything she’s done to your mom?”
“She even attacked Isadora! Look at her wrist!” She added sharply. “All you care about is getting your mom to apologize to her?”
I opened my mouth, but another voice cut through.
“Don’t act so righteous, son. Weren’t your actions even crueler than mine?” Isadora’s tone turned biting “You humiliated her in front of everyone–wasn’t that you?”
Her words hit like bullets–each one precise, brutal.
And for a moment, I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.
“I
“Enough,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous.
But before I could say more, Genevieve stepped between us. “Let’s just calm down. This isn’t the time—”
I turned to her, cold and sharp. “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of this? To leave me alone?”
She recoiled, caught off guard.
“This is between me and my mother,” I said, my voice flat. “And you have your own parents to deal with, remember?”
The room dropped into tense, ringing silence.
Suddenly, I felt even more tired–tired of the noise, the pretense, the people who claimed to know what was best.
For a moment, all I wanted was to go back. To those quiet nights when Celeste was still mine, when she’d curl up beside me and
share the smallest joys like they were treasures. When she used to take care of me and do everything she could to make me happy.
But I didn’t have that anymore..
“Oh, Celeste…” I whispered, my thoughts swirling only around her.
I turned and left without another word, grabbing my keys and storming out into the night.
When I finally pulled up outside her apartment, the building was quiet. Familiar. My fingers clenched around the steering wheel
And then, like fate playing some twisted hand, the door to the building swung open.
And there she was. My heart leaped, and I immediately rolled down the window and called her name eagerly. “Celeste!”
She turned slightly, phone pressed to her ear.
“Yes… Theo, I’ll call you back later.”
Her voice was quiet.
3/4
But it might as well have been a thunderclap.
My heart froze. The words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
