🌿 Damien's Point of View 🌿
I hate Mondays.
Something bad always happens to me on Mondays.
I sighed heavily after signing the last document for a building project. Cracking my knuckles, I stretched my arms and dropped my pen on the desk just as a knock sounded on my office door.
"Come in," I said flatly.
The door opened, and my PA walked in carrying a huge pile of files.
"Oh, come on! I just finished signing these ones!" I groaned in frustration.
"Sorry, sir, but they're all important," she replied quietly.
"And what are those for?"
"Approval letters stacked in files for your various orphanages, amusement parks, and charity projects." She gasped dramatically as she dropped them on my table.
I rubbed my forehead.
"What else?"
"You have ten important phone calls to return personally, the manager of your Canada branch requested a video conference with you, the New Zealand branch reported a fraud issue, and lastly, your meeting with Herodotus Nielson is in forty minutes."
"Forty what?! I told you to remind me an hour earlier!"
"I forgot…"
"You're fired."
"Sir?"
"You are F-I-R-E-D. FIRED!" I yelled.
She only pouted.
"I'll cancel all your schedules for the rest of the day."
She knew I was bluffing. I always used the word fired whenever I was angry. If anyone took me seriously, that was their problem.
I grabbed my car keys and stormed out.
I arrived at the company twenty minutes late.
Unfortunately, I ran into Mr. Nielson before reaching his office.
Herodotus Nielson was my father's most important business partner — one of those old men who believed I was too young to possess the power I held.
"Good morning, sir. Sorry I'm late. I ran into a little trouble earlier."
"Or perhaps you're simply not serious enough for this contract."
"I apologize, sir," I replied calmly.
"You are an irresponsible boy. How could you keep five old men waiting?" he snapped.
I inhaled deeply.
"I'm not a boy," I said with the calmest voice I could manage.
"That's what you always say, but you are a boy — a child given too much power."
I folded my arms.
"What exactly is your definition of a man? I'm thirty-one. How does that make me a boy?"
"Not by age. But you're unmarried, you have no fiancée, no children… you have no reason to be holding such authority."
I chuckled humorlessly.
"My great-great-grandfather, all the way down to my father, worked hard to build P-Lords into what it is today. I intend to make it even greater — and I already have. I started running this empire at twenty after my father's death, and I do not need to prove my manhood to anyone."
"How about we make this interesting?" he said. "Marry my daughter Amaya, and I'll hand you every contract for the next two years."
So that was his game.
I smiled coldly.
"I don't believe in marriage with public toilets."
"You are insulting my daughter, Damien."
"Interesting, isn't it? You seem to forget who I am. I'm Damien Idris Petersen. I can ruin you if I choose to."
"Why don't you ever take a dare? Your father was a daredevil. That was exactly what made him successful."
"I already have a fiancée," I blurted out.
Damn it.
"Is that so?"
I cleared my throat and nodded.
"You? Love?" He laughed mockingly. "Then I'd love to meet her at my fundraiser in two weeks."
"Is that an invitation or a request?"
"A deal. If I see a woman and confirm she's truly your fiancée, consider the contracts yours for the next four years."
Interesting.
"Deal."
We shook hands.
"You haven't heard the condition yet," he added.
"If I'm lying, I marry your daughter. I know."
I turned and walked away, wondering what devil possessed me to agree.
Back in my office, I paced anxiously while my best friend Patrick watched me with visible disappointment.
"I'll say this again," he sighed. "You are a fool. How could you make such a deal when you know you have a serious problem with women? Are you insane?"
"I don't know what came over me. You know I'm not usually reckless."
"And that's why I'm starting to think you're losing your mind. You literally have woman phobia! How exactly do you plan on marrying Amaya?"
"I'll find a girl. The problem is finding one who won't try to manipulate me. I might kill her."
"Like you almost killed Caroline, Sissy, Megan, that black girl with the huge ass, the flat-chested one with the wiry hair, Tuna, Emily, Isla, the woman old enough to be your mother, and that old lady with salt-and-pepper hair?"
"Okay, I get it! I've almost killed a lot of women…"
"You technically killed Violetta and Renée."
"Accidentally!"
"You threw Violetta off a roof and locked Renée inside a filthy toilet."
"They tried to seduce me!"
"That still doesn't justify murder."
"Are you here to help your only friend or make me suffer more?" I snapped.
Patrick burst into laughter.
"Good Lord, Mien, you're too easy to annoy."
He wiped his tears and cleared his throat.
"Getting a girl isn't the problem. The real problem is making sure you don't kill her."
"You know how I get."
"You just need a girl who hates you."
"Where exactly am I supposed to find such a devil?"
"Not all girls are terrible, Mien. Some actually have dignity. And I know someone who might know the perfect one."
He pressed my intercom.
"Valdivia, please come in for a moment."
"Sure thing, sir."
A few minutes later, Valdivia entered with Cole, my chief bodyguard.
"You called?" Cole asked with a grin.
"Yes," Patrick replied. "I think we may have found the girl."
"You mean we found her," Valdivia corrected with a frown.
Patrick winked at her, earning an eye roll.
"Anyways," Patrick continued, "we did some digging and found the perfect candidate. One of your father's former debtors — one of the men you freed from debt — has four daughters. Two are married already, but the remaining two are available."
"You can choose one."
"And how are they?" I asked suspiciously.
"The first daughter is decent," Cole said, "but the youngest is better for you. She's stubborn, fearless, and doesn't care about reality. She can handle you without changing herself."
"What's the man's name?" Patrick asked.
"Carlos Gabriel," Valdivia replied while checking her tablet. "He owed ten million dollars but managed to repay five million before Damien canceled the debt."
"Fine," I muttered. "I just hope she's beautiful. Ugly girls irritate me."
"All girls are ugly to you," Patrick scoffed. "I'll be the judge."
"So? Is she pretty?"
Cole grinned.
"She's… unique."
"What does that even mean?"
"Well, we're running out of time. Come on, Valdivia."
They hurried out before I could stop them.
"What if she's ugly?!" I shouted after them.
Patrick laughed loudly.
"Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, my friend. And beggars can't be choosers."
I groaned and collapsed into my chair.
Life was about to become very difficult.