MY DARLING DAREDEVIL

What just happened?

Aziza remained closely behind him as she feigned the character she had become and remained timid behind him as they walked outside the station. Damon’s cars and guards seemed to have occupied the little space the station held like they owned the place. With their black suits and dark shade, they looked like terrorist who the uniform men should be afraid of.

“Thank goodness,” Sloan ran up to her the moment she laid eyes on the blonde and pulled her into a very tight hug. Damon ignored the both of them and continued towards the car and Aziza had to stop in her tracks. She resisted the urge to groan since she had to play her character better.

“You only just saw me,” she whispered in agitation.

“I know,” Sloan pulled her into an even tighter hug, almost knocking the air out of her.

“Well, let go,” she forced out from her throat breathlessly. Sloan quickly let go of her and chuckled at herself and how red she had become. Aziza only glared at her and turned to Damon who was slightly further away from them. His long legs had already carried him towards his car and not once did he turn back to look at the two women.

“Won’t you say thank you?” Sloan asked as she fell in step beside Ivy.

“For what?”

“I saved you. I literally saved your ass,” she pushed out of her throat as she wondered what kind of woman Ivy was.

“Damon saved me,” Aziza retorted and Sloan came to a halt. She glared at the woman and thought of killing her even. She was always so cold and blunt but then again, she liked her a lot for a very strange reason and simply was not going to let go of the only friend she had. She smiled at herself and pursued hotly after her while she thought of how she had come to suddenly be the one to chase after cold and blunt women like she was into them when in time past, it was a different scenario altogether.

Sloan was never the woman who would chase after people for friendship or any form of relationship. She was powerful on her own and with the help of her parents had a lot of connections but definitely not up to Damon’s own. She lived most of her life being surrounded by people, friends, colleagues, classmates and a whole lot more. Her parents pampered her crazy and doted on her as an only child. She had everything she could ever want and had always partied while people flocked around her like chicks following mother hen. Not till tragedy struck.

Her heart clenched at the fading memory of her parents dying in a plane crash and she stopped in her tracks. As an only child, she had thought of dying for she loved her parents so much and didn’t think that there could be a life without them. But that was not the end of her misery. Legally, she was the heiress to everything they left behind and could still live the life they had all trained her to live if only her uncles didn’t snatch everything away from her. She had trusted them so blindly and had made them in charge of everything she owned. She had made them the managers of her wealth and had hoped that once she was done from college, she could easily get it all again. That didn’t happen though. On her return, the both men had liquidated everything she had and claimed it to be theirs while bringing up evidence that proved that she was not truly the child of her parents. There was not a single certificate or paper of her adoption found and they had all fled leaving her with almost nothing. She ran to the people she called sisters, brothers and even boyfriend. They were well to do too and could possibly help her pay their family lawyer to help but most of them shut her out in an instance. They called her a thief, a child from dirt and simply a wanna be. Even those she helped all shunned her like she was nothing. Pushing her aside and tossing her back to the gutters, she slipped into depression.

Years passed till she fully recovered with the help of her father’s sister who had returned and reclaimed everything her brothers had taken away from her niece. Though she got almost everything back, she never truly recovered from everything and had totally stayed away from men and women alike who pretended to be friends whereas they were leeches. They knew of her status, even in Roxwell enterprise and everyone simply wanted to buy favour with her. But not the blonde. She was different, she cared less about Sloan’s wealth and status and looked like a loner.

“I’m heading off now,” a voice yelled and pulled her out of her painful thoughts. Ivy was already leaving with Damon as they got into the car and drove off without even considering dropping her off. She scoffed at the audacity of Ivy but smiled at herself anyway.

Ivy stared out of the window all through the ride, seeing absolutely no need to speak to Damon but he had thought otherwise.

“Won’t you at least show gratitude?” his voice had come deeply from the other side of the car, breaking the silence. She turned to him and found that he was staring at her and she quickly looked away.

“Why should I?” she asked, and rolled her eyes at the thought that Sloan and Damon alike wanted some sort of gratitude for doing absolutely nothing.

“For saving you,” Damon replied slightly amused. The way she sounded just now had reminded him of someone and his thought could not help but to go to that person. Aziza flinched at the reminder that she was ivy and resisted the urge to groan. As Ivy, she should have said a million thank you already and even done more, rather than get so grumpy. But just as quickly, she recovered and scoffed at him.

“You and your red hair put me in this mess in the first place.” Damon’s heart fell and he sighed heavily, seeing the truth in her words.

“You shouldn’t have carried that face in the first place. Of all the people you could be their look alike, it had to be Aziza,” he retorted and turned to the window. His thoughts fled quickly to the red hair again.

“Now it’s my fault that I was born?” she snapped playing her part too well.

“It’s my fault that I was born with this face too like I had control over it,” she turned to him and flashed him a glare. Something that would make him feel guilty because truly it was his fault that a look alike had to be in so much trouble. Damon turned to the woman, slightly taken aback by her anger and the slight annoyance in her voice. And how she had forgotten whose presence she was and how to speak to him. Had he been so lenient on her that she thought she could speak to him anyhow she liked?

“Mind the tone you use with me miss Sheridan,” he responded coldly and she snapped her eyes harshly to him. He was staring at her with a colder look in his eyes and once again, she had to remember that she was Ivy. She groaned inwardly and lowered her gaze, then she turned away and looked out the window,

“My apologies,” she forced out. Being Ivy was not as easy anymore since she had to always prove to be lower than him, she even had to apologise in such a situation when it was never Ivy’s fault to have the same face as the red hair just as he claimed. Damon looked away from her, his anger growing deeper as he thought of the last time he was disrespected. Except for Aziza, no one had dared do that, not even the women he slept with. But he knew that she was also telling the truth. If only Aziza had been more careful, her look alike would not be in so much trouble again.

“I think my face would put me in so much trouble, though,” Ivy carried on another act.

“So, I have decided to leave the state to somewhere small and remote. Where no one knows of the killer red hair,” she added and pushed back the urge to smile. Damon frowned at her, completely hating the idea of not having her around him. Without much delay, he simply stated.

“No.”

She turned to him, wanting to refute so they could carry on their game when the car came to a halt and he stepped out from it. She looked out and quickly made out the cemetery, the cars that had lined up along the road, the state security and prominent men who had come with their security unit and the funeral that was taking place.

“Take her back to the office,” he ordered his driver instantly. She frowned and got out of the car before the driver could start the car. There was no need being far away from him when she had to protect him, what was the need of being Ivy if that was the case.

“I just gave an order,” he roared at her and she lowered her gaze.

“I know, I sincerely apologise,” she began softly and used her charms.

“The office is crowded and after being in a cell for the first time in my life, I can’t afford to be within closed walls surrounded by desktops and laptops and people wanting to get rid of me at all turn,” she mumbled to his hearing and had a quick flashback of her life years ago. Being in a confined space with people whose pleasure could only be gotten when she was in pain was never new. She pushed back the nasty thought that found a way to climb out from the place she had kept it locked away and turned to raise her gaze to meet him. He had a frown on his face and seemed to be lost in thought at her words.

She allowed him to think about his dilemma for a while, because she could only guess what it was. Men and women were all dressed in the same way, black attires and all had a mourning look on their face.

“I don’t think that she would want you here, “Damon said with a sigh. She understood who he was talking about without calling out a name but she was adamant about being by his side especially in such an open place.

“I’m your assistant sir,” she forced out and he groaned. She was charmingly stubborn and had seen that she had been through a lot with a face she never requested to have. He didn’t want her to feel any more pain by telling her to return, so he gave her a nod instead and turned around.

The funeral had already started and a lot of prominent men and women were present. Not to cause too much attention being drawn to him, he stayed at the far back and listened. Aziza remained by his side, her eyes and ears ever so keen and searching for danger but her eyes had lingered to the front where the cops of the man who had recently died for being at the wrong place came to view. Her heart stung slightly and she forced her gaze away from the late senator.

After the burial, everyone sent their condolences to his daughter and left till it got to Damon’s turn. Aziza had wished that he would just leave too without speaking to that woman, but she could feel Damon’s guilt and knew that he needed to make up somehow for killing him. She followed behind him reluctantly as he walked towards the woman who was surrounded by her own security and they instantly turned to him. Vanessa slowly whipped her head to the side as well, wishing that all the condolences and fake cries over her father’s death would be over soon but when she caught the silver-colored hair of Damon, her heart softened.

“You are here,” she said as he placed his hand behind his back. Aziza could hear the strain in her voice and the dull look she had but she could not help but detect joy in her voice.

“I had caused your father’s death, I should be here at least, to ease my guilt,” he responded softly and her eyes instantly went hard.

“You didn’t do anything. That red hair…” her voice trailed off when she finally took notice of the blonde behind Damon’s back.

“You,” she growled.

“You b***h,” she stormed towards her like an injured lion wanting to fight back so badly. Ivy watched her, wanting so bad to duck or halt her, but her conscience simply refused to prey on the weak and grieving. The moment Vanessa stood in front of her, her hand raised to the air and with a whip, it came on her cheek making her face whip to the other side. The slap had stung, it had been so long she felt a needle on her skin or pinch even.

“You wretch. You have the gods to come here, for what?” she roared loudly as her eyes spit fire and her voice spit venom. She wanted to tear that woman apart, she wanted to kill her and watch her come back alive only to kill her again for killing her father. But she had caught sight of the reporters hiding in the shadows and was restraining herself to pick a gun and pull the trigger. When the sting on her cheek died down, she slowly whipped her head back to the mourning woman and resisted the urge to give a wicked smirk. Damon was right behind her and she still needed to be Ivy. Not to add that, she deserved that, slightly.

“I came to condole with you,” she responded innocently and softly but it only angered the woman in which her father had just died and she raised her hand in the air again, to release her rage. Ivy saw it coming again but this time she was unwilling to take it.

Her demons instantly surfaced and her eyes burned within the lenses she wore. Going closer in full speed, she snapped the woman’s neck and her body dropped to the ground. Then she turned to Damon whose mouth was wide open as he stared at just another body. Then she took off her wig and allowed her hair to pour.

“Geez. Being Ivy sucks.”