Damien took a long sip from his latte, his eyes scanning through documents, one after the other. The coffee did little to ease his throbbing headache, and the dull ache in his muscles reminded him that he'd only had about three hours of sleep for the entire day.
His red hair, usually neatly styled, was now a mess. It was more like a bird's nest now, and his eyes were baggy from lack of sleep. Being the Global Creative Director of Liavenne and also a top designer for Liavenne, especially with the upcoming fashion shows, meant working overtime, sometimes to the point where he found himself wanting to quit. Besides, he had originally wanted to be a designer, but because of his position as the heir, his mother had also thrust him into this role.
But then, whenever he thought of his mother's stern face, the idea of quitting would evaporate instantly.
Just as he pinched the bridge of his nose, a figure lazily strolled into his office and made himself at home on the couch.
