Damien's P.O.V
"Thank you again, Mr. Richard."
His voice barely registered. I saw his mouth move, but the words slipped past my ears.
My thoughts drifted—not as to why he made the offer, but how it benefited me. I didn't care about his reasons. If it served my purpose, it would be good enough.
Hiding from the media, even for someone like me, was a daily war. Money talks—but microphones scream. Reporters clawed for a headline, and even at night, they hunted. You'd think exhaustion would stop them. It didn't...the man who was once an open book was now closed off, and under suspicion after his wife vanished.
Having heavy accusations of murder and abuse against you as an elite member of society is no child's play. Evading these accusations is worse and possibly impossible, but I refuse to believe that. I had exhausted nearly every plan— until one walked right in and offered themselves. This could fail, but as luck would have it, I was in no position to think otherwise.
Just as a rescue mission, my guards needed to clear the roads of any reporters, so I could go about my day. It got so bad that I now only accept faceless meetings. I had to learn to have online meetings, even having many of my documents signed online.
It was both a win and a loss for me, especially when you have enemies rubbing their palms and ...smiling so wide, it was as if my downfall breathed life back into their dead eyes, but it worked for me. At least I thought it did.
The shrieking sound of a phone ringing disrupted my peace, followed by his voice.
"I have to take this, sir," his eyes bounced from his phone to mine, anxiously. His finger pointed unsteadily to his phone, and he murmured. "Important"
I waved my arm dismissively at him, hoping my face screamed at him to get out and leave me be.
My eyes caught the agreement, and I looked down to pay attention to it for once.
Marriage Certificate.
Colour me surprised—but not really. I saw this coming. Mr Alkings puts his daughter up for marriage for a monetary exchange. I should have known the man had that bone in him. He puts up a front that deceives people, not me, though you can't deceive a deceiver. When he worked back then for me, it was solely business, at least for me. It would not take a dumb person to figure out that he is in heavy debt and is selling his daughter out. This is wrong. It should feel wrong. For a second, something twisted in my gut. I ignored it. Guilt is for the weak, and I can't afford to be weak.
Hailey Alkings. The name meant nothing to me—and yet, the idea of tying myself to someone I'd never met sparked a flicker of unease. I buried it under logic. This was just a strategy. I hummed, just as her name sounded, and her father described her. She was polite, obedient and quiet. Jackpot.
Maybe this was exactly what I needed: an obedient, quiet woman who would not bother me and help me take the pressure off my back. I could breathe for a second.
I exhaled, deciding to give this a try. What's the worst thing that could happen? The thought lingered. And for the first time in a long time, I felt something close to uncertainty.
It was the turn of my phone to let out a ping, my suit shuffled, and I reached for my pocket to fish it out. The image displayed on the screen made the tsk, taking in the VIP invitation. An art gala.
A dangerous distraction—but necessary. I'll take the risk. I always do.
"VIP only?" I asked Garrett, a fellow elite member and acquaintance of mine. I needed to confirm that within the first hour of the display, we would not be bombarded by paparazzi who'd shove mics down our throats if we tried to ignore them.
Relax, Richard. Anyone who lets the press in will be arrested on sight. Hell, I'd strangle one myself. "I hate the sight of 'em," his voice said loudly on the phone.
Chuckling, I nodded, convinced that I was on the safer side.
"I'm on my way", I clicked the phone dead and looked around my desk, the only agreement being staring at me. I sighed, making a mental note to tell my secretary to remind me to input my signature on it.
Walking out of my office until I reached the garage and entered my car, I called my PA, staring at the phone ringing. I zoomed off, leaving my office behind and nodded in acknowledgement of my request.
"Get me everything I need to know about Hailey Alkings in twelve hours"