Chapter Nine: The Long Walk Home
The city blurred around her.
Ana walked with no sense of direction only forward motion. Her coat barely clung to her shoulders, her purse strap half-torn, her phone gripped like it might vanish if she let go. The night wind cut through her like a knife, but she didn't notice.
Her legs felt like glass.
Her eyes, raw from crying, stung against the wind.
The world around her was neon and noise car horns, laughter from sidewalk cafés, the rattle of a train overhead but inside her, there was only silence. A numbness that began somewhere in her chest and had spread all the way to her fingertips.
She turned down a quiet street. A blinking street lamp flickered overhead like a warning.
Her mind replayed Dexter's voice.
"I'll start with your brother."
Ana had already tasted more than her fair share of life's turbulence.
She had just finished school, hopeful and ready to start a new chapter. Her younger brother, Bob, was still in college. Their father was a businessman, and for the most part, life had seemed steady. Peaceful, even. Except for Clara, her mother's health had always been a quiet concern, the one cloud in their otherwise clear sky. But Ana had been full of dreams. Sweet natured, bright eyed, and endlessly optimistic, she was ready to take on the world.
She had even once risked her own life to save another. That's who she was, always putting others before herself. She never could have imagined the kind of blow life would throw at her. She had made plans to get a good job, support the family, maybe travel, maybe surprise them with something special. She wanted to be the daughter her parents could be proud of.
Then, one morning, everything fell apart.
The news came like a cruel whisper, her father had borrowed money from a man named Dexter. It turned out that during her final year of school, when fees became overwhelming, her father, unable to bear the thought of her dropping out had gone to Dexter for help. He had kept it a secret, wanting to shield Ana from the burden. The truth unraveled like a nightmare, her father had lost his job long ago, and for years, the family had been living on his savings. He had tried, really tried, to find another job, but age and time were not kind. No one would hire him. Desperate, he turned to Dexter.
But debts owed to men like Dexter don't come cheap.
Ana's father had taken a risk, tried to escape the consequences, tried to run with Dexter's money. He failed. And he died for it.
Now, the debt hadn't just taken her father's life, it was threatening to wipe out everything, her family, their future, their safety. Pay or perish. That was the deal.
Ana was stunned. Numb. The world spun too fast to make sense of it. She didn't want to believe it. But one truth anchored itself in her soul like a knife, it was because of her. Her dreams, her education,her father had gone to Dexter because of her.
That was the moment Ana decided.
She would carry the weight. All of it. The debt, the grief, the shame. Whatever it took. She would make it right. She would protect her family, even if it cost her everything.
And for a while, she did just that.
She didn't cry. Not once. She powered through each day with quiet strength, holding herself together like armor. The road was hard, but she walked it without hesitation. She felt strong. Ready. Determined.
Until she saw that video.
That video shattered everything walls she thought she had built, so she cried like never before.
She bit her knuckle to keep her from screaming. She could still see the cage. The lion. Her mother's trembling body, shielding the boy like her arms could stop death.
Ana staggered to a stop beneath a rusted fire escape and slumped against the brick wall.
She let herself slide down, knees pulled to her chest.
Her phone buzzed again.
But she was too sad, too pathetic to even notice a phone ringing.
Ana blacked out.
Scene: Damian's Apartment
Damian sat on the edge of his bed, still dressed from dinner. The room around him was dim only the soft light from the city outside lit the room in sharp angles and cool golds.
He stared at his phone.
Still no response.
He'd called three times. Texted twice. No read receipts.
She'd run out of that restaurant like it was on fire. And now nothing.
He replayed the moment in his head her sudden panic, the look in her eyes before she fled. Like something had shattered inside her.
What aren't you telling me, Tyler? he thought.
He opened her number again, thumb hovering over Call.
Then he did.
Ringing.
One ring.
Two.
Three…
Voicemail.
He dropped the phone onto the sheets, frustration flaring.
"Eric," he said, suddenly rising and grabbing his jacket.
His head of security, already waiting in the other room, appeared in the doorway within seconds. "Yes, sir?"
"I want a trace on Tyler Ross. Full name. Background. Everything we can find. Start from her family."
Eric's expression didn't shift, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "You suspect something?"
"I don't know what I suspect," Damian said tightly. "But something's not adding up."
He glanced at his phone one more time.
"Find her."
Scene: The Rescue
The city hadn't noticed her collapse.
But someone had.
A sleek black SUV rolled to a stop at the curb where Ana's body lay crumpled near the sidewalk, half-conscious, her knees scraped, her breath shallow. Eric's men had been scanning the area after the trace report came through. It was supposed to be routine surveillance.
Instead, they found her.
"Sir!" one of the guards barked into his comm. "We've located her. She's not well. Appears to have fainted."
Within minutes, Ana was in the back of the SUV, her coat draped over her shoulders, head resting gently against the window.
Damian's Penthouse, That Night
She stirred only slightly when Damian carried her through the elevator and into the warmth of his penthouse. He didn't speak. He didn't ask questions. He simply moved carefully, quietly laying her down on the bed like she was glass.
Her forehead was warm. Too warm.
He knelt beside her, brushing damp strands of hair from her face. She looked small. Fragile. A thousand miles away from the girl who had bantered over truffle risotto just hours ago.
He stayed up all night.
He changed her cold towels. Checked her fever. Sat beside her bed, watching her chest rise and fall with every shallow breath.
When she whimpered in her sleep, he murmured soft words and held her hand until she calmed.
Morning light broke through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gentle and golden.
Ana's eyes fluttered open slowly. She blinked against the brightness. Her head throbbed. Her skin felt too hot. And her throat raw.
She tried to sit up.
"Don't," came a soft voice.
She turned her head and found Damian sitting at the edge of the bed, dressed down in a simple gray hoodie and black lounge pants. He looked tired. But relieved.
"You've got a fever," he said, gently pressing a cool cloth to her neck.
She stared at him, confused. "How did I get here?"
"You passed out," he said. "My men found you on the street. I brought you home."
He smiled faintly.
"You scared the hell out of me."
Her lips trembled. The warmth wasn't just from the fever anymore.
He didn't ask questions. Didn't press. He just took care of her.
For the rest of the day, Damian was by her side.
Damien has never fallen in love, he would have sworn that he could never be this soft with a woman, but now he understands what love means, he fell himself right inside of her and he could think about at that moment was to do everything and anything to make her feel better.
He has even found himself in the kitchen making broth for her.
He had stayed all night watching over her, and for once in a long while he couldn't think of codes, meeting contract, and all that fill his thoughts and mind is just Tyler, her well being, her happiness.
When Damien was done in the kitchen he brought the food to her, carefully carried her like she was a delicate piece of antiques, he gently fed her the warm broth. Adjusted the pillows behind her. Talked to her softly when she needed to hear a voice and sat in silence when she didn't.
When she finally fell back asleep, her hand still resting in his, he stayed in the chair beside the bed. Just staring at her nude beautiful face, this girl really seem to cutting deep into him.
When it came to love, Damien had always been one of those people who swore it was a myth, just a word people threw around too easily. He never truly believed it existed, not in the way people described it.
There was a time, back when he was much younger, when he vaguely remembered liking someone. A girl. He couldn't even recall her name now, or what she looked like. Just a flicker of memory, soft laughter, a warm presence, the kind that makes your heart flutter without understanding why. But then came the accident, and whatever feelings or memories he had of her scattered like ashes in the wind. Gone, like a dream he couldn't quite grasp after waking up. All he remembered now was that once, long ago, he had liked someone. That was all.
And then there was Seraphina, God, how could he forget her? If memory served him right, she had practically turned the whole world upside down trying to get his attention. They were younger then, teenagers caught between innocence and boldness. Seraphina had been one of his sister Vivian's closest friends. Beautiful, sweet, practically perfect in every sense, and painfully persistent.
She had no shame about it either, asking him out over and over, wearing her heart on her sleeve without a trace of fear. But Damien didn't feel the same. Maybe "hate" was too strong a word, but he definitely didn't like her. Her boldness annoyed him. He couldn't understand how someone could be so openly shameless, so unguarded with their feelings. So he did what he knew how to do best, shut her out, built walls, and pushed her far away.
Vivian always used to tease him, saying, "I can't wait for the day you fall madly in love, Damien. Just wait. You'll be worse than all of us." He would roll his eyes then, laugh it off like it was impossible.
But now, as he sat beside Tyler, watching her sleep so peacefully, her breathing soft, lashes resting gently against her skin, something shifted inside him. There was something about her that disarmed him completely. Something fragile and fierce all at once.
And in that quiet moment, he could only think of one word.
So, this is what love is.