Chapter Three

A knock woke me up in the morning.

It was firm. Controlled.

Damian.

My young son, Leo, roused next to me and clutched the bed sheets as if he could feel the tension in the air. My heart raced as I looked at the clock on the nightstand. 6:00 a.m.

I wasn’t ready for this.

For him.

For whatever battle was waiting for me behind that door.

Holding my breath, I slipped slowly out of bed Leo was still [snuggled] in. I paused then walked to the door, combing through my tangled strands, fully aware of the fact that despite trying something, I would still appear tired.

I opened the door to find Damian standing there, dressed in a crisp black button-down and fitted slacks. He looked as though he belonged in a boardroom, not the middle of my nightmare.

His eyes skimmed over me, noting my rumpled clothes, and my tired eyes. Something unreadable flickered across his face, but he did not comment.

“Breakfast is ready,” he told me.

I frowned. “And?”

His mouth turned up slightly but there was no warmth behind it. “And you’re coming downstairs. With Leo.”

I folded my arms. “You want me to sit there and eat with you like we’re all one big happy family?”

He slumped against the doorframe, seemingly unfazed. “That’s precisely what I’m counting on.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, you  think you can control me, don’t you?”

His smirk widened, eyes darkening. “I don’t think, sweetheart. I know.”

My stomach twisted. I hated how he always got under my skin so easily.

I crossed my arms tighter. “Leo isn’t comfortable here.”

“He will be,” Damian said, seamlessly. “And the way he’s going to get that is if you treat him as his mother rather than a prisoner.”

I stiffened. “Excuse me?”

He moved in closer and lowered his voice. “I let you have last night. But don’t get it twisted, Elena, I’m over your resistance. Leo stays. You stay. And the more quickly you accept that the easier this will be.”

I felt anger tightening my chest. “You can’t hold me here against my will.”

He didn’t even blink. “Watch me.”

I sucked in my breath, battling the panic welling up within me. I couldn’t let him win. I wouldn’t.

But for now, I had to step delicately here.

I forced a tight smile. “Fine. We’ll come down.”

He glanced up, amusement glimmering in his eyes as if he saw through me. But he didn’t push. He stepped back, allowing me space instead. “Good girl.”

My nails dug into my palms.

I closed the door and took a deep breath the second he left, and leaned against it.

I needed a plan.

♦♦♦

Then, 15 minutes later, I took Leo down the grand staircase, my heart racing with each step.

The dining room was as extravagant as I recalled — high ceilings, gold-trimmed walls, a table that could seat at least twenty.

And at that table’s head sat Damian.

He seemed utterly relaxed, nursing a cup of coffee as though he hadn’t just cornered me in his mansion.

Leo paused next to me, his tiny fingers squeezing my hand. I squeaked back, smiling as I ushered him to a chair.

A group of servants came in, setting out plates of food before us. Pancakes, eggs, fresh fruit. Leo’s eyes went wide, but he said nothing.

Damian watched him carefully. “Eat, Leo.”

Leo looked at me for reassurance. I nodded.

He paused, then lifted his fork.

I could feel Damian’s eyes on me. I refused to look at him. Instead, I turned my attention back to my plate, slicing into the food without truly tasting it.

But Damian seized upon silence, and he didn’t let it hang.

“I would like Leo to start school next week,” he said in between leisurely stirring his coffee.

My hand froze mid-air. “What?”

He set his cup down. “He needs an education. A proper one.”

I swallowed hard. “He has an education. I homeschooled him.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Not the same as an elite private school.”

I clenched my fists. “He hasn’t been in a school environment before. “He’s never going to receive a wrench,” she says. “Placing him in one of your elite, expensive institutions isn’ You gonna help him acclimate.”

Damian leaned back in his chair. “He’s my son. He deserves the best.”

I gritted my teeth. “And what if he doesn’t want to leave?”

“He will.”

I released a slow breath, reminding myself to breathe. “Damian, you can’t just make decisions for him without talking to me.”

His expression didn’t change. “I can. And I will.”

My blood boiled. “You’re not going to micromanage every aspect of his life.”

Damian tilted his head. “Interesting. Since I remember you making every choice until now.”

My stomach twisted. I knew where this was going.

“I did what I had to do,” I said, through clenched teeth.

Damian’s gaze darkened. “So will I.”

Tension thickened between us. None of us said a word, but the lines were drawn.

Leo glanced back and forth between us, his little voice breaking the quiet. “Mommy?”

I forced a smile. “Eat your food, baby.”

He paused but nodded, eyes back on his plate.

Damian was still watching me.

And I was certain that this was only the opening salvo in his battle for control.

I hardly got to breakfast without going nuts.

Every second spent in that dining room was like an exercise in power, and Damian made sure to communicate that he wouldn’t be budging an inch. I wanted to lash out, to tear that smarmy arrogance straight off his face, but I had Leo to consider.

I needed to be smart.

As soon as breakfast finished, I took Leo’s hand and walked him back upstairs. I didn’t trust Damian enough to let him leave my son alone in this house, in his performance at the table.

As I dressed Leo for the day, I noticed he was especially quiet. I knelt before him, smoothing his shirt. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

He nodded, though his little fingers fidgeted. “Is… is Mr Damian angry with you?”

The question made my heart clutch. I touched his cheek, forcing a smile. “No, baby. We just disagree on a few different things.”

Leo’s eyes searched mine. “Because you don’t want me to go to school?

I hesitated. “It’s not about school, Leo. I just want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable.”

He bit his lip. “Would you be sad if I went?”

My throat tightened. “No, sweetheart. But I want you to be ready.”

Leo looked toward the door, his small face contemplative. “I think I want to try.”

I blinked. “You do?”

He nodded. “I’ve never been in a real school. Maybe it’s fun.”

I swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “If that’s your desire, then we’ll work it out.”

A deep voice interrupted the moment.

“That’s a wise decision.”

I stiffened, my eyes whiplashing to the door. Damian stood, leaning casually against the frame, arms crossed.

“How long have you been standing here?” I snapped.

His lips twitched. “Long enough.”

I scowled. “You truly don’t understand the definition of privacy do you?”

Shoving off the door frame, he came in, entirely disregarding my glare. His gaze settled on Leo. “I’ll give you the best teachers, the best environment. You’ll like it.”

Leo picked at the hem of his shirt, looking back and forth between us. “Okay…”

I didn’t miss the slight curl of Damian’s lips, as though he had just won some unannounced battle.

I rose, putting Leo behind me defensively. “You don’t have the right to make all the decisions for him.”

Damian’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “He made this one himself.”

My jaw clenched. “You manipulated him.”

“I encouraged him.”

“Same thing.”

Damian let out a low chuckle. “You don’t like to lose control at all, do you?”

I folded my arms. “Funny, I was just going to say the same thing about you.”

The amusement left his eyes, darkening them. “I have every right to be a part of his life, Elena.”

I hated how he pronounced my name and how it slipped off his tongue like a whisper.

I took a sharp breath in, attempting to rein in my emotions. Arguing with him was not going to do me any good.

“Fine,” I muttered. “He can try school.”

Damian’s face was unreadable, but satisfaction radiated off him.

I hated it.

I hated that he was winning.

But for now, I needed to choose my battles.

And I sensed that this war was not over.