Damian didn't return to the boardroom.
He didn't go back to his office.
He didn't even speak to his assistant.
He went straight to the penthouse level of the Blackwood Tower, stormed into his private office, and slammed the door behind him hard enough to rattle the glass.
"She left again," he muttered, pacing. "She walked out. With my sons."
The words my sons hit him like a violent punch to the chest.
His.
He gripped the edge of his desk, breathing hard.
In three years, he had told himself he didn't care.
He had convinced himself she was a mistake.
He had buried every memory of her smile, her voice, her warmth.
But one look at those boys…
And all the lies he told himself crumbled.
A sharp knock came at the door.
Lucas stepped inside carefully, as if approaching a wild animal.
"Sir—"
"Get me Donovan."
Lucas hesitated. "Donovan?" His voice lowered. "The fixer?"
Damian didn't blink. "Yes."
Lucas swallowed. "Right away, sir."
Five minutes later, the lights dimmed and the door opened again.
A tall man in a dark coat stepped inside, eyes quiet, expression unreadable. Donovan was a shadow in human form—the man people hired when they wanted things found, erased, or controlled.
He stopped a few feet in front of Damian.
"You called."
Damian didn't sit. Didn't breathe normally. He simply pulled out a tablet and tapped the screen. A photo appeared—a recent one taken at the airport minutes ago.
Lena holding the twins' hands.
"She left three years ago," Damian said. "She ran. No forwarding address. No trace. She vanished."
Donovan studied the photo silently.
"Now she's back," Damian continued, voice sharp. "I want everything. Her location. Her schedule. Her income sources. Where she lives. Who she speaks to. Who she trusts."
Donovan raised a brow. "You want surveillance."
"I want more than surveillance." Damian's voice dropped dangerously. "I want to know every second of her day."
Donovan nodded slowly. "Discrete tracking? Physical and digital monitoring? Shadow detail? Or full-scale—"
"Everything," Damian snapped. "She's not disappearing again."
Donovan tilted his head. "And the children?"
Damian's jaw clenched. "My sons will not grow up without knowing me."
"And if she runs again?"
Damian's eyes darkened. "She won't."
Donovan gave a slow, respectful nod. "I'll begin immediately."
As soon as the door closed, Damian dragged a hand through his hair. He rarely lost control. He never let emotion interfere with logic.
But Lena had walked in and torn apart the version of himself he had spent three years building.
He sat down finally, letting his breathing slow.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Donovan.
Found her location. Sending coordinates.
Damian opened the file.
His brows lifted.
She lived in a luxury gated community.
Not just any community—one only billionaires or international elites could afford. Her new home was massive, modern, glass-walled, surrounded by three acres of landscaped property.
The price tag alone made Damian's chest tighten.
Three years ago, she could barely pay her rent.
Three years ago, she was the shy girl taking the bus.
Now she lived better than he did.
Damian leaned back.
"How did you afford that, Lena?"
He felt something ugly. Something like jealousy… mixed with pride… mixed with fury.
Another message appeared.
She owns a design company. CEO. International clients. Very successful.
Damian stared.
Lena.
A CEO.
He remembered the girl who used to make coffee with shaking hands.
The girl who whispered "thank you" every time he gave her a compliment.
The girl who folded into herself whenever he raised his voice.
Now she was a woman the world respected.
A woman who built an empire while raising twins alone.
A woman who no longer needed him.
Damian felt something burn deep inside.
He stood abruptly.
He needed to see it for himself.
---
HE ARRIVES AT HER MANSION
Thirty minutes later, Damian's black car turned into the gated estate. The security guards recognized him immediately—they always recognized him—and lifted the barrier without a word.
Her house came into view.
White stone.
Glass panels.
A fountain in front.
Gardens glowing under soft lights.
It was elegant. Rich. Feminine. Powerful.
Lena had built all this?
He stepped out of the car just as her front door opened.
The twins ran out first, holding basketballs, laughing loudly. Their laughter felt like a punch to his chest.
Then she appeared.
Lena.
She wore jeans and a simple white shirt, hair tied loosely, phone in hand, looking effortlessly beautiful.
She froze when she saw him.
Her expression didn't soften.
It hardened.
"What are you doing here?"
Damian shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to maintain control. "I came to talk."
"We already talked," she said, walking past him toward the boys.
He followed. "Not enough."
She ignored him.
"Eli, Ezra! Stay where I can see you."
"Yes, Mommy!" they shouted.
Damian's heart twisted again.
He tried to speak, but she turned to him sharply.
"Did you come here to intimidate me? Or to accuse me again?"
He didn't answer. His eyes drifted over the mansion.
"This house," he said slowly. "You did all this alone?"
"Obviously," she responded.
"You're a CEO now."
"Yes."
"How?"
Lena crossed her arms. "Hard work. Opportunity. And being free from you."
Damian's jaw clenched. "You're proud of that."
"I am."
He stepped closer, voice low. "You ran away with my children."
"They weren't yours," she said calmly. "Not then."
"They're mine now," he growled.
Lena's eyes flashed. "Damian, you don't get to claim something you never wanted."
He inhaled sharply. "Don't tell me what I wanted."
"You told me yourself," she said, voice ice-cold. "No pregnancy. No family. No feelings."
"That was before—"
"Before what?" she cut in. "Before you realized I became someone without you?"
Damian's vision blurred with anger.
"You should have told me," he said again, quieter this time. "I would have helped. I would have—"
"Stopped me?" she asked. "Forced me to stay? Used lawyers? Called it your right?"
He didn't deny it.
Because he would have.
He would have done anything to keep her close back then.
Silence wrapped around them.
Then Lena spoke again, softer now—but sharp.
"I left because I had to. And I'm not the same woman you controlled."
Damian stared at her, breath unsteady.
"You should know something," she continued. "You can watch. You can follow me. You can show up at my door."
His pulse spiked.
"But control me again?" she said quietly. "Never."
Damian swallowed hard.