by Mara Lynne
After a while, he learned her true nature.
She is not the meek and innocent girl she appeared to be that auction night. To his amazement, she’s quite the opposite. She’s assertive, strong, level-headed, independent, and most importantly, she has a beautiful soul. And the more time he spent following her, persuading her, troubling her, the more he had fallen in love with her—only he did not know it was already love in the beginning. He thought of it only as attraction and infatuation… and perhaps, a bit of an obsession.
Why did it have to be her?
Why couldn’t he look for another woman to play his pretend girlfriend?
It’s because Angel showed utter repulsion toward him. He knew, then and there, that she was the perfect ingredient to his plan. He did not know yet that it was love, so he continued to perturb her with his infamous tactics. She was perfect to be his fake wife—all for the Etheridge wealth.
But then, another twist happened.
He came to realize that he was already in love with her when that unmanly and cowardly Beetz model, whose name he could hardly remember now, came into the picture and tried to take what is his. He could have destroyed the man or even Angel’s company for letting her pose almost naked on a magazine. He could not bear to see her so intimate with another man, and so he flipped. He knew he wanted her. He knew he wanted to be in Verne’s place right at that moment.
And when she was sleeping on his bed, crazy thoughts crossed his mind. No, not sinister ones. Yes, he wanted to take her on his bed, but that would be rape, and that is not a nice thing to do. What he had in his mind was the vision of a future with her.
His feelings only deepened when he witnessed Angel’s unconditional love for her parents, to the point that she was so willing to lose her kidney for her father. He was so moved that he had to do something, and then Will appeared, and the rest is history.
To conclude, Angel has turned him into a feeling monster. Long before, he thought he was incapable of feeling any affection toward anybody, or even remorse, guilt, or empathy. But then she came, and she let him experience a whirlwind of emotions.
She kisses him back, sliding her hands around his neck and playing with his hair.
“I only have you now,” Hunter says when their lips part.
“And I have you,” she tells him as she presses her forehead against his. “We have each other.”
“I could let go everything except you.” He means it with all his heart. “I love you so much, Angel. I’d die if I lose you.”
“Don’t say that, Hunter…”
“Do you love me?” His eyes look for an answer, searching hers.
Tell me you do. Tell me.
“Yes, I do. I love you, Hunter Stone.”
Chapter 7 – The Road to Peril
There was something in her eyes that sparked hope within Damien. When he saw her stunned as a rock when Candice appeared, he knew in an instant that some feelings remained. And though it pains him to see Angel so reserved as though Candice and his situation is nothing to her, Damien could not help but take a little happiness from it. It is not too late for him.
Angel and Hunter vanished from his sight after dinner. An overpowering impulse to pull Angel from Hunter’s arms almost blew up his cover. If he were to take Angel back, he must do it clandestinely.
“Damien, where are you going?” Mary appears from behind.
“I am looking for Candice.” He is lying. It is Angel he wants to see.
“Candice is in the drawing room,” Mary states matter-of-factly. “You left her there, didn’t you?”
“Right…” He never escapes Mary’s inquisition.
“In the tea room!” Her voice sounds like that of a captain in command as her eyebrow reaches her hairline and her finger points to the hallway to his left.
“Can we save that for tomorrow? I’m with a guest.”
“I have no time for your excuses, young lad. To the tea room. Now!”
And Damien follows like a child who has been reprimanded by his mother over a lollipop.
When they reach the tea room, Mary shuts the door behind her. She then turns on her heels to face Damien who is now sitting at ease on the sofa with Lucifer on his lap.
“For once, Damien, please act like a grown up,” she states while she picks up her silk fan from the tea table.
What’s wrong with caressing Lucifer? It’s not like she doesn’t do this at all, he thought.
“I’m a grown up, Mom. You’re treating me like I’m a child.”
“For Christ’s sake, Damien! You don’t even know what you’re doing.” Her hand flaps the fan, and it spreads like wings showing off Chinese decorations embroidered in gold threads.
“What are you angry about, Mother?”
He knows it’s because of Candice, and yet he still asked.
“You impregnated a nameless woman!” Her nose flares up, and her face bloats with wrath, but her voice remains subdued and controlled.
“She’s Candice Gregory, twenty-seven years old, and a hotel receptionist. She’s not nameless.”
“My goodness! A hotel receptionist?” Mary finally falls on the chair and starts to tap her chest in slow rhythmic motion.
“Cut it off, Mom. You don’t really want to get a heart attack, do you?”
“Have you no care for me at all, Damien Etheridge?” Tears start to form in her eyes.
“Actually, I do care so much about you, Mom.”
“You’re sentencing me to death row now, if you only know.” Mary closes her eyes and lets the internal fury fade away. “How sure are you that it’s your child? She could have bedded other men!”
“I fucked her, Mother. That’s how I knew.”
That’s not enough to convince Mary.
“She could be using you because of your money. She wants to use the baby to her advantage. That child can’t even be yours! And good heavens, she was Hunter’s play toy before all these,” Mary speaks. “I remember him bringing her twice in an event. Now tell me, you’re not just toying her.”
“She has my baby, Mom.” Damien never sounded so serious.
“How did it happen?”
“Are you seriously asking me how I fucked Candice?”
“Jesus, Damien! This is not some ping pong game of whores and mistresses, okay?”
“I am marrying Candice, Mother, whether you like it or not.”
Mary grunts. “No, you will not. We can take the baby but not that woman!”
“I do not see what problem you have with her. And if I am right, I think you also do not like Angel for Hunter.”
“I don’t like girls who crawl their way into the family like reptiles. They are just a waste of time. If you want to be deemed serious, marry a girl from a reputed family, not someone you just picked along the districts of you know where.”
Nevertheless…
Damien slams his feet against the floor and carries his weight up.
“I will marry Candice, and I will take the child. He will carry my name, and you will treat him as your own. Are we clear on that, mother?”
Mary buries her face with the fan, refusing to look up to her son until he storms out of the room.
Let the child grow up without a mother?
No.
He would not let his child grow without one. Hunter might have not told him about his feelings toward their father, but he feels that the former might have felt how unlucky he is to miss one parent while growing up. And although James tried to be around for Hunter whenever he can, his brother did not show much inclination to James’ attention. Could Hunter be harbouring odd feelings about their father? he thought. He could be. He was still a kid back then, and kids are always after affection.
However, even as a child, he did not quite understand the estrangement Hunter might have felt. Hunter had always shown him an optimistic disposition, something he did not expect from someone denied of a father growing up. But thinking that his own child—son or daughter—might feel the same wa
y as Hunter could have had, makes him uncomfortable.
Hence, he will take the responsibility.
But what about Angel?
Isn’t she the one whom he wants in his life?
Isn’t she the one whom he wants to be the mother of his children?
Isn’t she whom his eyes would want to see when he wakes up in the morning, her touch he wants to feel and put him to sleep at night and to invigorate him after a stressful day, and her kisses to satiate his desires?
It’s her whom he wants.
But how is he going to have her when he’s going to marry Candice?
The woman appeared on his door before he could leave his apartment for the family dinner. He had no idea that Hunter and Angel will be there because James said that it was just going to be the three of them. Perhaps he just did not clearly hear the old man.
Then Candice came up with a positive pregnancy kit, exhilarated, telling him that they’re going to have a baby. He just could not send her away. When Candice knew that he was going to dine with James and Mary, she insisted on going with him. He didn’t approve of it at first because he thought Candice is too gabby to keep a secret, and he was right. He briefed her not to say a word to Mary or James about the pregnancy, but she said she was only going to do that if he buys her a ring—a promise ring that he will take the child.
He bought one, ordering it right away at a nearby store. Candice didn’t have the chance to pick the best because they were running late.
He did not promise anything about marriage. The promise ring was intended to be an oath for the unborn child. But there she was, talking about marriage impulsively, and he was left with no choice but to shut his mouth and let Candice take the limelight.
I should not have brought this woman here, he whispers to himself. Things would have not been as complicated as they are now. He would have not been forced into a loveless marriage otherwise. It was something he never anticipated to happen, at least not with Candice.
His legs are brought to a halt when he sees Hunter entering the balcony. There, Angel is looking up to the sky with her arms around her body, probably shielding herself from the cold wind. How he wishes he could provide her with some warmth. How he wishes he could just barge into the balcony without fear of being rejected. He wishes all that and more as he languishes in jealousy.
When Hunter’s arms encircle Angel’s waist, the compulsion to cross the doorstep swells, threatening to burst out his control. He terribly wants to rid Hunter’s hands on Angel, to rip them apart.
And then it hurts more when she grants him all the freedom to kiss her on her neck.
He remembers quickly how Angel was very much hesitant to even let him kiss her before. Her small gestures of shyness and hesitation mean so much to him, but he desires she was this open and generous to him when they were still together.
Too pained to witness everything, Damien decides to leave, but before he could even move a leg, he hears Angel words, sending an incapacitating blow to his body.
“And I have you. We have each other.”
There’s a noticeable smirk on Hunter’s face.
“I could let go everything except you. I love you so much, Angel. I’d die if I lose you,” Hunter says.
The muscles inside his throat constrict, starting to block air and building tension in his chest.
He is more than jealous.
He is enraged, and sooner or later, he will exhaust himself; he will need to displace all this disappointment.
“Do you love me?”
No. Please. Don’t.
“Yes, I do. I love you, Hunter Stone.”
His eyes close shut.
Stop this craziness, Damien, his head murmurs, but he hears it crystal clear. You’re just hurting yourself by watching them. Leave. Move on. Let Angel be happy with Hunter. She has given up on you, can’t you see?
His legs, coupled with an immense range of emotions, bring him to the parking area where his car waits for him. Unaware of his surroundings, he does not notice Candice following him, calling out his name.
“What is the matter with you?” she tells him off as she bars him from opening the car door. “I was calling you, and yet you pretend you didn’t hear me. Have you forgotten about me?”
“You know what, Candice? I don’t want to listen to your nonsense tittle-tattle, okay?” He pushes her off.
“How dare you hurt me like that?! I am carrying your child.” She starts to sob.
A grimace appears on his face. He’s not delighted with what she just said.
He shuts the door close and rolls the window down, leaning forward so that his head peeks through the window.
“Why don’t we leave this place and prepare yourself for your maternal roles?” Damien says.
“I don’t want to leave just yet. This is supposed to be a fun night—a celebration. And besides, we haven’t even said our goodbyes.”
“Well, I’ll leave you then. I’m sure you can find your way out of here.” And Damien steps on the gas, speeding his car out to the gates and leaving the mother of his child dumbfounded.
He knows just where to go.
It’s the best place to pour his heart out tonight. And even though he is driving his car in not in the best of minds, he welcomes with open arms the consequences he will face thereafter. After all, there’s not much left of him anymore.
***
The bartender has refilled his glass with beer five times already, and Damien is not stopping any time soon. The alcohol is beginning to reach his brain, already temporarily erasing from his memory the recent events.
He dials Eric Martin’s number in his phone.
“Hello, Eric. It’s me, Damien.”
“The hell, Damien, it’s one in the morning. What do you want?” Damien hears the sound of linens falling to the floor.
“Did I wake you up?”
“Have you been drinking?”
“How did you know?” He says, burping loudly at the end.
“I could smell the stench of beer from here,” Eric says. “I told you no more alcohol.”
“You said eight glasses of liquid a day. I’m on my fifth just within an hour, not counting the liters of water I had before coming up here.” Damien buries his face against the wooden bar, calling for the bartender to give him another glass.
“Are you even using your brain? You will cause your own death.”
He just giggles.
How he wishes he could fasten the process.
“Eric, I need more Vicodin.”
“Vicodin? But you’re totally out of pain already. Why will you need Vicodin?”
If he only knows the pain he’s in. It’s much more painful than the physical one. Even a bottle of Vicodin is not enough to make it go away.
“It’s killing me, Eric.”
“What? Tell me the problem, Damien. Is there an infection? Are you having a fever? Is there swelling? Tell me.”
Chapter 8 – A Look into the Past
Eric Martin called in the middle of the night, rendering Angel sleepless for another hour. Hunter hurriedly left to fetch Damien, who was reportedly intoxicating himself to death, at the bar five miles away from home.
So Angel is left in the living room, waiting for Hunter’s return.
She wanted to call Ray and tell him the sudden reappearance of Damien. But it’s almost past two in the morning, and Ray could well be sleeping like a log.
Three long honking sound emerges from the gates, and she instantly knows it is Hunter. She hurries to the grand foyer to meet him.
Much to her amazement, Hunter brings Damien with him. The man was almost unconscious, being tugged on the former’s back. The security staff rush for aid but Hunter respectfully turns down their help.
Damien looks horrible. He appears as though he is in the middle of a waking and sleeping state.
“What happened to him?” she asks.
It looks like Damien is not going anywhere tonight.
“I t
hink it’s best to let the man stay for the night. If I bring him to his apartment, he might escape somewhere else, and that will be a headache. I swear I’m going to let him taste his own medicine once he gets his senses back.”
One servant arrives, and Hunter quickly dismisses her to prepare a room for his brother.
Angel struggles to see Damien looking like a ball of mess. She should not be surprised now since she has always witnessed Damien’s mischief, but to see him first hand in such horrible condition leaves her hoping for the night to end.
Hunter lays him down on the bed as soon as they reach the biggest guest room. He takes off Damien’s shoes and straightens his legs on the mattress.
“I’ll get him fresh clothes and some medicine to prevent the hang over. Won’t you mind staying with him for a couple of minutes?”
She thinks she could handle an already knocked down Damien, so why worry?
When Hunter has left, Angel goes to the bathroom to find a dry cloth or towel. Damien is sweating profusely despite the cold evening breeze and the air conditioner. As soon as she finds one in the cupboard, she goes back to the room and sits on the empty space beside Damien’s unconscious body.
She begins to unbutton the top part of his clothing, and as her fingers touch his warm skin, Damien stirs. He looks so at peace as though none of his misdemeanors occurred. She wonders who took him in during the times he was so depressed and obsessed with alcohol. Was it Hunter? Did Mary frighten him like what mothers do to their little boys? Damien seems to be an obedient mama’s boy, so she will not be surprised if he is afraid of Mary. The woman is a force of nature all on her own.
Why is he doing this to himself? Her mind is pushing her tongue to say it, but her will is preventing her.
