Breaking Through the Mask

Long after she had left me standing there, stunned and perplexed, the woman's remarks continued to replay in my mind.

• "Damian isn’t who you think he is... and neither is your father." *

My body refused to move, even though I wanted to follow her and demand explanations. My hands were sweaty and my heart was pounding. Damian's ultimatum had just started to sink in, and now this?

I closed the door, putting my forehead against it, trying to breathe. I had already been deceived once by my father, who had sold me as a negotiating chip. What, though, was she referring to Damian? What did he conceal?

I required clarification.

And they could only be obtained in one location.

---

In his study, I discovered him. I stopped for a moment as the door was ajar a little. The room was poorly lighted, with shadows being created throughout by the fireplace's flame. His desk was strewn with papers, and next to them was a tumbler of whiskey. He was seated in a chair with his fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose as though he were trying to ward off a headache, and his head stooped slightly.

He seems... worn out. Not the strong, invincible man he always seemed.

I saw something else, something real, for a second.

I moved forward and pushed the door open even more. "Damian."

His head sprang up, and the fatigue in his eyes vanished in an instant, giving way to the icy, protective look I had grown accustomed to.

"Lyra, you ought to be in bed." Although his voice was controlled and smooth, there was an oddity in it. There was a little roughness about it.

I disregarded his caution and entered, closing the door after me. "I must speak with you."

He watched me over the glass rim as he sipped his whiskey. “You made your decision already?”

"First, I want to know the truth." I refused to be intimidated and stood my ground. Regarding you. Concerning my dad.

He clenched his jaw. "And where did this curiosity come from?"

I confessed, "I spoke to someone." "You're not who I think you are," she said.

His eyes twitched, but before I could identify it, it was gone. He gently put down his glass, as though he was thinking about what he would say next.

"Lyra, people love to chat. It does not imply that they are knowledgeable.

"However, don't they?" I moved in closer. Damian, tell me. What do you have to conceal?

His fingers clenched on his chair's armrests as he let out a quick exhale. I briefly believed that, as usual, he would shut me down and kick me out. Then, however, something occurred. His look changed from controlled indifference to something else as his shoulders drooped a little.

Resignation.

With his back to me, he rose and walked toward the fireplace. "Lyra, you want the truth?" He spoke in a quieter, lower voice now. "All right. However, what you hear may not be to your liking.

My stomach twisted into knots as I gulped. "Give me a try."

He didn't say anything for a long time.

He eventually said, "My father wasn't a good man." I learned from him that power was crucial. The only way to live in this world was to maintain that control. At his sides, his hands clenched into fists. "He was ruthless not only in his professional life but also in his personal life."

Painfully, something twisted within me. "Did he cause you any harm?"

Damian laughed without humor. He ensured that I comprehended suffering. He ensured that I would never forget it.

I wasn't prepared for how hard his remarks affected me. Although I had previously noticed glimmers of gloom in him, I had never considered their origin. I thought he was simply... cold. However, as I stood there, I noticed something else.

A boy with a broken heart. A man who had become indestructible to survive.

"Damian..." My previous fury had subsided, and my voice had become gentler.

His eyes were unreadable as he turned. "You were looking for the truth. You have it now.

I wanted to let him know that he didn't have to follow in his father's footsteps. that the past did not have to define him. But before I could, he drew us closer together.

He touched my cheek with remarkably soft fingers. "Lyra, stop staring at me that way."

"Like what?"

"As if you give a damn." He sounded almost resentful. "As if I could be saved."

My heart pounded against my ribs as I took a deep breath. "Perhaps you can be."

For a moment, I thought he might kiss me as his gaze darkened. Something deadly, something that was impossible to ignore, was crackling in the electrified air between us.

However, the moment vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.

The door was knocked on loudly.

Damian's expression turned to steel as his whole body clenched. He looked more... attentive than I had ever seen him.

"What's that?" he growled.

His best friend Liam entered via the slightly open door. His typical charm was absent, and his expression was solemn.

"We're having trouble."

I sensed Damian's energy change even though he remained motionless. "What sort of issue is it?"

Liam's gaze shifted from Damian to me and back again. "Her father is the subject."

I felt sick to my stomach.

Damian tightened his jaw. "Talk."

After a moment of hesitation, Liam remarked, "John Ashford just tried to run."

My breath caught. "Run?"

Liam gave a nod. "Tried to vanish with what little money he had left."

I felt a chill go through me. Running, my father? Why?

The tension in the room was oppressive, yet Damian's demeanor was inscrutable. His eyes met mine as he turned to face me. "Lyra, it appears that we have discovered the truth."

My heart raced, uncertainty and anxiety mingling.

My father had done what?

More significantly, what action was Damian going to take?