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Only a few moments had passed when the heavy sound of boots echoed from outside the room. Then the door opened, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black suit, a Bluetooth device in his ear, his posture sharp and commanding. With just a glance, he looked every bit the seasoned bodyguard—silent, alert, and dangerous.
The two men already seated turned their heads toward the door.
And then… Damien West stepped inside.
He wore a royal blue, tailored suit that whispered of power and wealth. His honey-brown hair was slicked back flawlessly, every strand in place. But it was his eyes—those cold, golden eyes—that sent a shiver through the room. Calm, calculating, merciless.
The moment the men caught sight of him, they sprang to their feet in a flurry of nervous energy, stepping aside from the sofa as if scorched by his presence.
Damien barely acknowledged them. His gaze swept over them once—cool, assessing, judging—before he casually unbuttoned his coat and settled onto the sofa like a king on his throne. His every movement oozed dominance.
The two men stood frozen, barely daring to breathe under the weight of his scrutiny.
He looked them over from head to toe with quiet menace, as if measuring their worth without a word. Then, with a faint flick of his hand, he motioned for them to sit.
They obeyed instantly, perching stiffly on the sofa opposite him, their discomfort painted across their faces.
For a moment, the room was steeped in silence—a thick, suffocating stillness, as though even the air was afraid to move in the presence of Damien West.
.........................................
Lena sat trembling, her breath shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her panicked eyes darted around the room. Her tears had not stopped flowing, each drop glistening against her flushed, porcelain skin.
Greyson stood on the other side of the bed, silently watching her.
And then he saw it—blood.
It had begun to seep through the white bandage on her injured leg. The pressure must have reopened the wound. Crimson now soaked into the bedsheet, staining it like a warning.
His eyes flicked down to the injury, then back to her face, a mixture of concern and softness shadowing his expression. She looked so small, so broken. Her pale skin was now blotched with red from crying, and her honey-colored eyes were swollen, glassy, and distant. Her entire body trembled like a fragile leaf in a storm.
Her thick brown hair, tangled and loose, fell messily over her back, and her lips quivered from the force of her emotions.
Greyson had seen a lot—pain, loss, even death. But nothing had ever struck him the way this girl’s silent suffering did.
He averted his eyes for a second and reached over to the side table, retrieving the first aid box. Then, without saying much, he walked around and stood gently in front of her.
His voice was quiet. Gentle.
"I'm not one of the men who would ever hurt you," he said softly. "You don’t need to be afraid of me."
Lena didn’t look at him, but her sobs grew softer, like a child who didn’t know whether to trust the warmth of a stranger’s hand.
Then he added in an even softer tone, almost like he was coaxing a terrified child out from hiding—15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcDQFTQ3xnS
"Isabel..."
That name, tender and familiar, made Lena glance up. Her eyes met his.
Greyson knelt slightly, holding her gaze.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ42XyZJ7mmg
"I need to check your leg," he said calmly. "You're bleeding a lot. But I promise—you don’t have to be afraid of me. Alright?"
He pulled a nearby chair and sat down beside her, carefully lifting her injured leg onto his knee. She winced but didn’t resist.
Slowly, he began to unwrap the bandage.
Lena stared at him through tear-filled eyes, her body still trembling. But what she saw on his face wasn’t cruelty. There was no cold indifference or hunger for control.
There was only gentleness. Concern.
Greyson worked with care, unwrapping the blood-soaked cloth as if she were made of glass. And Lena—still hiccuping between sobs—couldn’t stop looking at him.
After examining the wound closely, he finally spoke.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYuDDe69nHt
“Thank God,” he murmured. “The stitches didn’t tear. It’s just bleeding because of pressure.”
He pulled out a fresh bandage and began wrapping it carefully around her leg.
When he finished, Lena sat quietly, her gaze lowered, tears continuing to fall soundlessly.
Greyson took a deep breath, closed the first aid kit, and stood up. He looked at her for a long second.
“Have you eaten anything?” he asked gently.
She gave a small shake of her head without looking up.
“I’ll ask the maid to bring something up,” he said. “She’ll clean all this up too.”
He turned to leave. But just as he reached the door, he paused. Looked back.
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he said softly. “If you need anything—anything at all—just call for me.”
He turned the doorknob and began to step out.
But before he could close it, a tired, faint voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Please… leave the door open.”
He looked over his shoulder, and for a brief moment, something shifted in his expression. Understanding.
He gave a slight nod and quietly walked away, leaving the door just slightly ajar.
A small crack in the silence. A fragile thread of trust.
..........................................
Max sat on the couch across from the open kitchen, letting out cold, sorrowful sighs like a man abandoned by the world.
Beside him sat an elderly woman—the head maid of Greyson’s household—watching him with a sympathetic gaze as if she were listening to the tragedy of a lost child.
He sighed again, even more dramatically this time, then picked up a chip from the tray of snacks in front of him, tossed it into his mouth, and muttered through a full chew,15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvnWzqdXAH8
“I don’t even know what to tell you, Aunty. Greyson has completely forgotten about me. He used to call me once in the day and once at night. Now? Not even a single ring. Okay, fine, I didn’t pick up every time—but still.”
The maid gave him a gentle smack on the head.
Max grinned sheepishly, rubbing his head, then immediately returned to his theatrical sulking, clutching his forehead like a heartbroken widow.
“It’s a girl, Aunty. That’s what it is. A girl. Ever since she came into the picture, he’s forgotten all about me. I was his temporary wife... and now he’s just ghosted me without even a proper divorce.”
The maid stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief. She turned briefly to glance toward the stairs and then leaned closer, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.
“By the way… who is this girl he brought home that day? She’s quite lovely, I must say.”
Max smirked mischievously.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQsSn9p608r
“You might as well start preparing for Greyson’s wedding. I’m telling you, I know she’s going to be my sister-in-law very soon.”
The maid’s mouth fell open in shock.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKzmNVUjZuE
“Wait, really? Are you serious?”
Max put on his most serious face, nodding with exaggerated gravity.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT3wuU2WDul
“Absolutely. You better start planning that wedding. Our dear Greys—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Greyson himself appeared, descending the stairs with narrowed eyes.
Max spotted him and instantly raised his voice, cutting off his previous statement.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBfPxs73mEs
“Y-yeah, so Aunty, what I was saying is that you should start planning my wedding. I’ve found the girl—I’m going to get married soon!”
The maid, with her back to Greyson, didn’t realize he was standing right behind her. Oblivious, she replied, “But didn’t you just say Grey—”
“NO no no!” Max shouted, cutting her off, waving his hands frantically and throwing her desperate looks as if to say, Turn around! For God’s sake, look behind you! It’s death incarnate!
Greyson reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fixed like lasers on Max, who now pretended to be deeply interested in the ceiling.
The maid finally turned around and straightened instantly.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbumr8xpzhH
“Oh! S-Sir! Did you need something?”
Greyson kept his eyes on Max as he replied,15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ592laber07
“Yes. Please take some food upstairs for Miss Isabel. Also make sure her room is cleaned properly.”
Without another word, the maid hurried off, leaving Greyson and Max alone in a heavy silence.
Greyson remained standing, staring at him with the intensity of a scanner. Max, feeling the heat, darted his eyes around the room, trying to act casual.
“Why are you still standing there, man?” he said quickly. “Come, sit! Make yourself at home—it is your home after all.”
Greyson walked over and sat on the couch opposite him.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Us2TiFPD4
“So... whose wedding were you planning just now?”
Max waved his hand like swatting a fly.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkr5MlKDK1D
“Oh, forget that. Tell me—how’s the girl now? Is she okay?”
Greyson nodded.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3W4bdy5eGS
“She’s fine now.”
Max exhaled in relief, leaning back into the sofa.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa81I1eVVIX
“Thank God. I was so scared her leg might’ve gotten permanently ruined because of me.”
Greyson gave him a look, then smirked teasingly.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7niU0iTOQI
“That could never happen. Because someone who can’t even hunt animals properly is hardly capable of ruining a girl’s leg.”
Max, who had finally relaxed, shot upright in mock outrage, grabbed a cushion, and smacked Greyson with it.
“Bro, seriously! Is your food not digestible unless you humiliate me at least once a day?”
Greyson raised an eyebrow.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ87wCkHvkFm
“Took you long enough to realize that.”
Max jumped to his feet and began pulling at his own hair.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZCw6T3QrvA
“You know I’m your only real friend in this entire world! At least treat me with some respect. If I ever leave, I won’t come back, got it?”
Greyson stared at him blankly, then replied,15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoHl7LyVtrP
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I also know… you’re not going anywhere.”
Max dramatically shook his head like a disappointed wife.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEoXFyBBTew
“And now you don’t even call me anymore! You haven’t come to my place either.”
Greyson narrowed his eyes.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbvcdiZ40vm
“Don’t act like my wife now.”
Max scoffed.15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuInYAvo6p8
“Oh please. You already made me your temporary wife! And now you’re ghosting me like we didn’t have anything at all. Not even a divorce!”
Greyson stood up, walked over to the lounge door, closed it with a click, then walked back to Max. He stood there, serious.
With a straight face, he said,15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Pz5uwKqTF
“I, Greyson Blackwood, hereby divorce you—divorce you—divorce you.”
For a beat, the room went utterly silent.
Then Max let out a wheezy giggle, and Greyson cracked too. Within seconds, both men burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Max collapsed onto the floor, rolling as he laughed until tears formed in his eyes. Greyson fell back onto the couch, his body shaking with laughter.
In that moment, there was no sign of the high-profile director of a covert agency. That version of him had stayed outside the lounge door.
Inside sat only a friend. Just a friend. Laughing wholeheartedly with the one person who had never let him forget who he truly was.
.........................................
15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYfrl2hNItb
