Running Away To My Erased Heir

Gina's POV:

Evening.

Still later in the day.

I tried to think about what benefits me most. Everything favoring me lies with the contract marriage he offered.

I decided to clear my mind by a walk around the mansion. I walked out of the room quietly and a maid came by. The same one that came to inform me of lunch time.

"Wait, please." And she did.

"How can I help you, ma." She bowed, avoiding eyes contacts.

"Look up." I said, drawing her chin up slowly.

"It's against the etiquette, my lady." She said gently returning her head to the bow, but somehow forceful. "We are to conceal our identity as much as we could do."

It was normal for most influential people abodes, but not in ours. I even had a friend among the staffs back home.

"Okay." I  nodded like I understood her situation. "Just tell me your name then."

"I'm Zoe."  That was really short and unsatisfying.

"Just Zoe?"

"I think that's okay to identify me. I'm the only Zoe here."

I chuckled.

"Are you busy right now?" I asked friendly, hoping she would feel free to talk to me afterwards.

"Why do you ask ma?" I understood they are not to loose their guard at all. But they're bit too protective.

"The master might be too harsh on them." I thought.

"I want to look around and I need a company."  

She hesitated, then nodded. "I could gladly do that, my lady." she extended her arm, showing me down the hallway.

"I can help with that."

A man's voice. His voice. That softness again.

"Damon?" I turned and saw him coming. Dressed in a gym outfit.

He emerged from the hallway like he owned everything his eyes touched-because he probably did.

He wore a fitted crewneck sweatshirt in the softest heather gray, perfectly broken in but somehow immaculate. The fabric was heavy-the kind of weight that whispered quality before you even touched it.

The sleeves were pushed to his elbows, revealing forearms that looked strong without trying-veins visible, muscles defined but not showy.

Joggers in charcoal black, tailored perfectly.

His shoes were pure white, impossibly clean, with hits of rose gold in the detailing.

The soles showed no signs of wear. New.

A thin silver chain sat against his collarbone, barely visible above the crew neck, catching light when he moved.

His hair was slightly damp, pushed back, a few strands falling forward. Freshly showered.

He looked like wealth. Like power. Like a man who could have anything and chose to want me.

I swallowed hard. "Then do, please."

The maid left quickly but I managed to catch her face.

"Sure." he did exactly what the maid. Paved way for me.

I walked ahead and he followed gently.

The moment was silent if not for our foot steps disturbing it.

I decided to break the silence. "Your maids." I stopped. "They seemed so fearful and afraid. What's the deal with them?" I don't expect a warm answer because he made them like that because he was their boss, and would possibly claim the right to do.

"I tried conquering it. But they are too bent." He snapped his fingers. "I think they prefer living like that."

"Bent?" I faced him again. "By who?"

"Stepmom."

"What?" I was shocked and surprised. "She comes here?"

"She did."

"Okay. Once?"

"Yeah! Once." he nodded. "But that once was hectic, they all nearly run out of life. So she laid rules for them then. And they've been like that till now."

"I see."

We walked towards the pool. Freshness poured over me, calming my nerves and warmly putting them to rest.

"I do come here when I'm bothered." he spoke from behind me. He felt empty.

"When I lost my mum, when I was weeded out of the Kings home." he sighed. "Those moments-when they came hunting-I just come here and relax."

He sounded like he had lost much more than he had acquired.

"So are you really ready to fight blindly for everything that belongs to you." I said bending down and dipped my hand in the blue pool.

"I think I should do that!"

"When I start something." I said shortly. "I want to make sure I finish them off."

"That's a good mindset though." he chuckled. "Same here too."

Drops of water dripped down my finger as I bent.  The sheet of the contract slightly fold in my pocket.

I brought it out.

I stared at  it in my hands.

"Why me?" I asked without looking up. "Really. Why not any woman? Why not someone easier?"

Damon was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was different. Softer.

"Because Evan loved you."

My head snapped up.

"He told me about you. Once. When we met in secret, one of those times we could. He said you were the best thing in his life. The only good thing." Damon's eyes held mine. "He also said he was terrified."

"Of what?"

"Of what his family would do to you. To your father. To everyone." He paused. "He knew things, Elara. Things he couldn't tell you. Things that would have destroyed you."

"What things?"

Damon shook his head. "Not yet. When you sign-when you're truly mine to protect-then I'll tell you everything."

"That's not fair."

"No." He stood, looking down at me. "But fairness died with your fiancé. All we have now is survival."

He stood to walk away, I stood immediately and held him by his left arm.

"I'll do it."