Chapter 9
1627 Words
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Later that day, she gathered the courage to approach Damian in his study. He was reviewing documents, his sharp profile bathed in golden light, his attention as ruthless as ever.
“Damian,” she began softly, her hands clenching at her sides, “my mother asked if my brother could come stay here, while she’s in the hospital.”
His pen didn’t pause. His eyes didn’t lift. For a heartbeat, she thought he would ignore her completely.
Then he spoke, calm and precise. “Fine.”
Emery blinked. She hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. Relief fluttered in her chest, quickly replaced by unease when his gaze finally flicked up to her.
“But understand this, Emery,” Damian said, his voice cutting sharp as glass.
“If the boy is here, you will not use him as leverage. He’ll be under my roof, which means under my rules. His presence doesn’t give you power. It gives me another way to control you.”
Her relief collapsed into dread.
He leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
“Have him brought here. I’ll have Marcus arrange the security.”
Emery nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
That night, alone in her room, Emery sat on the floor, her back against the cold wall. Her phone lay beside her, the screen still glowing with her mother’s last words: “You’re stronger than you think.”
But Emery didn’t feel strong. She felt like glass about to shatter.
Her brother...her sweet, innocent brother would soon live in this mansion, under Damian’s shadow. She would have to shield him, protect him from the coldness, from Clara’s venom, from the whispers of servants who already mocked her.
She curled into herself, silent sobs wracking her chest.
“I’ll protect him,” she whispered into the darkness. “No matter what it costs me.”
But deep down, she knew the truth, she was already breaking. And bringing her brother here might be the crack that shattered her completely.
The Arrival
The grand doors of the Cole mansion opened with a groan, heavy and intimidating. Emery stood just inside the threshold, her hands trembling against the folds of her dress. Her heart had been restless all day, thudding like a drum as she waited. Every sound of approaching wheels, every flicker of headlights through the iron gates made her chest tighten.
Then finally, the black sedan pulled into the driveway.
Emery’s breath caught as Marcus, Damian’s trusted bodyguard, stepped out of the car and opened the back door. A small figure bounded out, wearing a too-big hoodie and clutching a backpack that looked heavier than he did.
”Ethan!” Emery cried, rushing forward.
Her little brother’s face lit up, his dark eyes wide with joy. “Emery!” He darted up the steps and into her arms. She knelt, hugging him so tightly she feared she might crush him. But she couldn’t let go. Not after everything.
He smelled of lotion, sprays, and the faint trace of the hospital’s sterile air. Emery buried her face in his hair, blinking back tears.
“You’re really here,” she whispered. “You’re really here with me.
Ethan pulled back with a grin. “Mom said I could stay. And....wow!” His gaze shot past her, into the cavernous hall of the mansion.
“This place is like a castle!”
Emery forced a smile. To him, the marble floors and glittering chandeliers looked like magic. To her, they were a cage dressed in jewels.
The sound of footsteps echoed from the staircase. Emery stiffened, her arms automatically tightening around Ethan as Damian descended. His presence filled the hall, tall and commanding, his sharp gaze sweeping over them.
Ethan turned, his jaw dropping slightly. “You must be Mr. Cole,” he said boldly, surprising Emery.
Damian paused a few feet away, his brows lifting ever so slightly. Instead of brushing past them as Emery expected, he crouched just enough to meet Ethan’s eyes directly.
“Ethan,” he said slowly, his voice deep, almost measuring. “You’re Emery’s brother.”
Blake nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir.”
For a long moment, Damian studied him, his expression unreadable. Emery’s stomach knotted. But then Damian extended his hand.
Ethan hesitated only a second before shaking it firmly, like a little man. Damian’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smile flickering before it vanished.
“Marcus,” Damian said, rising to his full height. “Have a proper room prepared for him. Bright. Comfortable. Stock it with books, games—whatever he needs.”
Emery blinked, shocked. She’d expected coldness, rejection, perhaps even disdain. Not this.
Dinner at the Mansion
That evening, they sat at the long dining table. Emery tried to keep Ethan close, guiding him with small touches, worried he might say something wrong. But Lincoln Ethan Blake, being himself, filled the silence with chatter.
“And then my teacher said I might be good at engineering one day! I really like math.”
Damian, who usually ignored Emery entirely during meals, actually looked at Ethan. “Math,” he repeated, his tone thoughtful. “Good. Intelligence is more valuable than anything.”
Ethan’s smile widened. “Do you like math too, sir?”
Damian didn’t answer right away, but there was a glimmer in his eyes. “Once,” he said simply.
Emery’s heart twisted. She had never seen this side of him—a man willing to listen, to engage, even if briefly.
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The next morning, Damian stood by the tall windows of his study, his gaze sweeping the city skyline. Emery lingered at the doorway, Blake clutching her hand.
Without turning, Damian spoke. “Ethan will be enrolled in one of the best schools in the city. Marcus will handle it.”
Emery blinked, startled. “Damian—”
He turned then, his eyes sharp. “He’ll have a bodyguard to escort him every day. No one touches him. No one comes near him. Understood?”
Ethan's eyes widened with awe.
“Really? A bodyguard? That’s so cool!”
Emery’s lips trembled. She wanted to thank him, to soften her voice, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t know if this was kindness or control.
Damian’s gaze lingered on Ethan, and for the briefest moment, Emery saw something almost human. A flicker of nostalgia. A shadow of what he might have been as a boy.
Then the mask slipped back into place.
The Study
That night, Emery passed Damian’s study and froze.
Inside, Ethan sat at a chess table, his legs swinging off the chair, facing Damian.
The board was set, pieces already scattered.
“Your move,” Damian said, his deep voice softened by patience.
Ethan furrowed his brows in concentration, moving his pawn forward. “I think… this one!”
Damian studied the move, then countered swiftly. “Not bad. But predictable.”
Minutes passed, and though Blake inevitably lost, he grinned at Damian.
“Can we play again?”
Damian leaned back, a rare smirk touching his lips.
“Tomorrow. You’ll need to think smarter if you want to beat me.”
Ethan giggled, his laughter echoing through the quiet halls.
Emery pressed a hand to her chest, tears stinging her eyes. She had never heard Damian laugh—not once. Yet here he was, sharing a rare softness with her little brother.
Her heart twisted painfully.
The same man who shelters Ethan is the one who chains me.
She backed away from the doorway, her whisper lost in the shadows.
“Ethan sees a protector. I see a monster. Which one is real?”
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The mansion’s hallways felt warmer that morning, filled with the rustle of footsteps and Ethan’s bubbling excitement. Emery woke before dawn, her hands trembling slightly as she laid out his new school uniform on the bed. The navy blazer gleamed under the light, the crest of the prestigious academy stitched in gold.
“Wake up, Ethan,” she whispered softly, brushing his hair from his forehead. “It’s your big day.”
Ethan stirred, blinking awake before springing upright with boyish eagerness.
“School!” he shouted, scrambling toward the neatly pressed uniform.
Emery couldn’t help but smile, though her chest tightened with nerves. She helped him button his shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly.
“Hold still,” she whispered, smoothing his collar. “You look… so grown up.”
Ethan grinned at her, his innocence radiant.
“I’m going to make you proud, Emery. I’ll be the smartest in the class.”
“You already make me proud,” she said softly, though her eyes burned.
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The sound of heavy footsteps announced Marcus, followed by a tall man in black. The stranger was built like a wall, his expression stern.
“This is Cole,” Marcus introduced. “He’ll escort Ethan to and from school daily.”
Emery’s brows knitted. “Is that really necessary—?”
Before she could finish, Damian entered the hall. He wore a tailored suit, his tie immaculate, his presence commanding. His gaze swept over Blake, pausing just long enough to silence the room.
He walked toward them, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve, and then without warning he crouched slightly, fingers brushing Ethan’s tie. He tightened the knot, his movements precise, his voice low.
“Do not waste opportunities, Ethan,” he said.
“The world does not reward weakness. Be sharp. Be disciplined. Be more than the rest of them.”
Ethan nodded solemnly, as though receiving an oath. “Yes, sir.”
Emery’s breath caught. The gentleness in Damian’s touch contrasted painfully with the sharpness of his words.
- Writer
