Dinner was quiet but warm. The dining room glowed with candlelight, and the dishes were aromatic and comforting.
"I explored a bit today," Eliana said as they ate. "I saw your office. It's… very you."
Damon chuckled. "Cluttered and full of coffee cups?"
"No. Precise. Focused."
"And the studio?"
"I saw the paintings," she said softly. "Are they mine?"
He nodded. "You loved collecting them. Most of them came with you when we got married. That room… was a space for you to create and breathe."
She smiled faintly, then glanced up. "There's one room I couldn't get into. The one that's locked."
Damon's expression shifted. "That room has personal things. Things I'm not ready to share yet."
Eliana tilted her head. "What could be so personal?"
"I'll tell you when I'm ready," he said gently. "Just… not yet."
She studied his face, then nodded. "Alright."
---
That night, Eliana lay curled in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was dark and silent, but her heart wouldn't rest. Sleep came eventually—but it didn't stay.
A scream echoed through her dream.
She was running. Heavy footsteps thundered behind her. A man's voice—familiar, cruel—snarled her name. She tripped. Fell. He was there—
"NO!"
She jerked upright, breath heaving.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway.
Damon burst through the door, chest rising and falling. "Eliana!"
She gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks. "He was chasing me—he was right there—I couldn't breathe—"
He rushed to her, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her into his arms. "It was a dream. Just a dream."
She clung to him, trembling.
"I'm here," he whispered. "I've got you. No one will hurt you."
"Don't go," she whispered.
"I won't."
He climbed into the bed beside her, gathering her into his chest. His lips brushed her forehead, then her hair, then her cheek.
"Sleep, Eliana. I'll be right here."
And slowly, with his arms around her, the tension eased.
Her breathing steadied. Her fingers curled into his shirt. Her eyes finally fluttered closed.
But Damon stayed awake a little longer, staring into the dark.
Whoever had dared to send that threat… whoever was watching her… would regret it.
He swore it.
And then, as her soft breaths warmed his neck, he closed his eyes and let himself sleep.
Not as a CEO. Not as a man with enemies.
But as someone who was finally beginning to understand what it meant to protect something fragile.
Someone he couldn't afford to lose.
----------
The scent of buttery croissants and cinnamon drifted into the room like a whispered promise of comfort in the morning. Eliana stirred slowly beneath the sheets, the memory of the night before clinging to her like dew. Her body was warm—held, shielded. But the space beside her was empty now.
She sat up, blinking against the early light spilling through the curtains. The space Damon had occupied was cold.
Just as she reached for the edge of the duvet, a soft knock sounded against the door.
"Come in?" her voice cracked from sleep.
The door creaked open, revealing Damon with a tray balanced in his hands. On it: two plates—one stacked with flaky croissants, scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes; the other with fresh fruit and tiny pancakes arranged in neat spirals. A small vase with a single yellow daisy sat between the mugs of coffee.
Eliana blinked.
"You made breakfast?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Technically, Chef Bernard did." Damon smiled, stepping in. "But I plated it. Very artistically, I might add."
She chuckled, warmth blossoming in her chest as he set the tray gently on the side table.
"I was hoping to surprise you before you woke," he said, perching on the edge of the bed. "Timing, it seems, is not my superpower."
"Well, lucky for me." She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his cheek. "Thank you. This is sweet."
"You're welcome." He passed her one of the mugs. "Coffee?"
"Yes, please." She took a sip, sighing into the warmth. "So… are you going to work today?"
Damon shook his head, the lines of his face softening. "No. I'm not leaving you alone today."
Her smile faltered slightly. "Damon… I'll be okay. You don't have to hover."
He reached for her hand. "This isn't hovering. This is me wanting to be with you. That's all."
A beat passed, her expression shifting from hesitation to something more tender.
"In that case," she said, brushing her thumb across his knuckles, "take me to the foundation."
Damon tilted his head. "The foundation?"
"I haven't been back since the accident," she said. "And I miss it. If you want to spend the day with me, I want to spend it somewhere that matters to me."
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. We'll go together."
They shared breakfast between soft conversation and gentle teasing. The tension from the previous day lingered in the background like a fading echo, but for now, it was quiet. Manageable.
After they finished, Damon leaned in, brushing a slow kiss across her lips.
"I'll head to my room and get ready," he murmured. "Be back soon."
"I'll be here," she said, watching him go with a faint smile tugging at her lips.
The moment the door closed behind him, her phone buzzed against the nightstand.
Mom
Her breath caught, and she quickly answered.
"Mom?"
"Eliana, darling! How are you, baby?"
Hearing her mother's voice brought a sudden sting to her eyes.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "How are you?"
"I've been praying for you every day," her mother said gently. "You sound tired. Did you sleep well?"
"I had a nightmare," Eliana admitted, her voice small. "About someone chasing me. It felt too real."
"Oh sweetheart…" her mother's tone softened even more. "Dreams are often echoes of what our hearts are trying to process. You've been through so much."
Eliana nodded to herself, pulling the duvet up to her chest. "It just felt like… someone was after me. And I couldn't escape."
There was a pause.
"Is there something you're not telling me?" her mother asked quietly.
Eliana hesitated. "I'm not sure. But someone sent Damon a threat. A photo of me. A note."
Her mother gasped. "Eliana! Why didn't you start with that?"
"Because I didn't want to worry you," she murmured. "He says he's handling it. And I believe him. But still… it's hard not to be scared."
"I know," her mother said gently. "But I also know you. You're strong. You always have been. Just stay aware, and stay close to Damon. He clearly loves you."
Eliana felt her throat tighten. "I think… I'm starting to love him too. And that scares me more than the note."
Her mother smiled softly through the line. "That's how you know it's real."
They spoke for a few minutes more—small updates, reassurances, reminders to take care of herself. When Eliana finally hung up, her heart felt heavier and lighter all at once.
She had her bath, moved toward her closet to begin dressing for the day.
Outside the door, footsteps padded softly in the hall. Damon would be back soon. And the world beyond the mansion was waiting.
But for now, just for this moment, she breathed in the sunlight… and let herself feel safe.