Chapter 33: [$50,060,420.00]

Morning light spilled through the curtains of the second-floor apartment.

Damon stood by the narrow window, already dressed in his suit. His cuffs were fastened, his tie set straight, his posture completely unhurried. Behind him on the double bed, Claire lay curled beneath the heavy cotton sheet. Her hair was scattered messily over the pillow, her shoulder bare, her breathing slow and heavy.

When he turned around, her eyelids fluttered open. She tried to sit up, but a low wince caught in her throat, her muscles aching from the long, wild hours of the night.

"You’re awake early," Claire rasped, her voice thick with sleep as she pulled the blanket higher over her chest.

"I don’t sleep away the morning," He said, stepping over to the side of the bed as he looked down at her . "I’m going out. Come with me."

She blinked, looking up at him in surprise. "Going where?"

"Shopping," He said simply. "You need clothes that don’t smell like yeast, and you need a proper phone."

She hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. She looked at her uniform folded over the chair, then down at her own hands. A resolve cleared the fatigue from her eyes.

"No," She said firmly. "Not today."

Damon’s eyes narrowed a fraction. "No?"

"I’m sore, Damon," She admitted, her face flushing slightly, though she didn’t look away from his gaze. "And if I go with you right now, I’m just going to get distracted. You handed me a blank check last night. If I’m really going to expand this business - if I’m going to take over the property next door and open three branches like you said. I need to sit down and write a real plan. I need to figure out what I’m building before I start spending your money."

He watched her for two seconds. He didn’t argue, nor did he look annoyed. Her stubborn refusal wasn’t born out of weakness or hesitation; it was her ambition asserting itself. She wanted to prove she was worthy of the backing he had forced into her hands.

"Fine," He said. "Draft the expansion plan by tonight."

Claire let out a breath of relief softening her posture. She glanced toward the bedroom door, then back at Damon. "If you’re going into the commercial strip anyway... take Lily."

Damon raised an eyebrow.

"She’s been complaining about her shoes for three weeks," She said, a small smile touching her lips. "And she won’t leave you alone if you stay down here while I’m working."

He didn’t object. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, he descended the wooden stairs into the dark bakery below.

Lily was sitting on a high stool behind the front counter, swinging her legs rhythmically as she scrolled through her phone. The moment she heard Damon’s footsteps, her head snapped up.

Her eyes took in his sharp suit, lingering on his broad shoulders before darting to the empty staircase behind him.

"Where’s my sister?" She asked, a wicked little smirk immediately spreading across her lips. "Did you break her?"

"She’s upstairs writing a business plan," He said flatly, walking past the display cases toward the front entrance. "Get your coat."

Lily froze, her phone slipping an inch in her hand. "My coat? Why?"

"Claire said you need shoes," He replied, pushing open the glass front door. "You have thirty seconds."

Lily’s eyes lit up like live wires. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t hesitate, and she certainly didn’t check in with Claire. She practically leaped off the high stool, grabbed a light denim jacket off the coat rack, and bounded out the front door right behind him, her shoes tapping rapidly on the concrete.

"I get to ride in the rocket ship?" She purred, sliding into the low bucket seat of the Lamborghini before Damon even reached the driver’s side door.

She pulled the heavy scissor door down, her fingers tracing the black dashboard with shameless delight. "Oh, Claire is going to be so jealous when she finds out."

Damon got into the driver’s seat, thumbed the start button, and shifted into gear. The supercar surged away from the curb as they accelerated down 4th Street.

Lily leaned her head back against the leather headrest, looking sideways at Damon’s sharp profile. Up close, the resemblance between her and Claire was undeniable - the same eyes, the same soft line of the jaw - but where Claire was grounded and cautious, Lily was pure flame. She didn’t care where his money came from, nor did she care why he had suddenly transformed into an heir. She only cared that he was holding the keys.

"So, Young Master Thorne," Lily teased, her voice cutting through the deep hum of the engine. "Where are you taking your future sister-in-law?"

"Velour," Damon said.

She blinked, turning her head. "Velour? The high-end boutique on 8th Street? Damon, a single scarf in that place costs three hundred dollars."

"Then don’t lose it," He said coldly, turning the wheel as they crossed into the North District.

Ten minutes later, the Revuelto pulled up to the polished stone curb outside Velour.

The boutique’s broad display windows were featuring tailored silk dresses and minimalist Italian leather coats under warm spotlights.

Damon pushed open the door, the chime ringing softly above. Lily stepped in half a pace behind him, her eyes wide with excitement .

Inside, two young sales associates were straightening a rack of evening gowns. The moment they saw Damon step through the door, both women froze, their eyes widening before they immediately bowed their heads in deep respect.

From the back office, the smooth click of high heels sounded against the floor.

Eleanor stepped out. She was holding a tablet, reviewing distribution schedules, but the second her eyes landed on Damon, her entire posture shifted.

The professional reserve vanished. A flush of warmth broke across her face.

"Damon," Eleanor said, her voice dropping into a tone that was entirely too soft and too intimate for a boutique owner greeting a corporate client.

She walked straight past her two sales girls, stopping less than half a step from Damon. Her hand rose naturally, her fingers brushing the dark fabric of his jacket sleeve in a habit born of familiarity.

"I wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon," She said, looking up into his eyes. "I just finalized the third transfer agreement for the Sterling regional fleet. The board signed the releases an hour ago."

Damon didn’t step back. Instead, his hand settled casually against Eleanor’s waist. The gesture lasted barely a second.

But Lily saw it.

She looked from Damon’s hand to Eleanor’s face. The expression on Eleanor’s face wasn’t the polite smile of a businesswoman greeting a wealthy client.

It was softer.

Warmer.

Far too familiar.

Then Eleanor leaned slightly closer to Damon and lowered her voice.

"I missed you."

Lily’s eyebrows rose.

Oh?

Her gaze sharpened as she looked between them again. So Claire wasn’t the only one.

A faint, mischievous smile slowly appeared on her lips.

Damon glanced toward Eleanor, and a system notification flashed across his vision.

[Bonded Partner: Eleanor]

[Current Corporate Asset Acquisitions: $21,200,000 cleared]

[Favorability Multiplier: 72×]

[Total Liquid Balance: $50,060,420.00]

His eyes narrowed slightly.

In less than a day, Eleanor had turned Julian Sterling’s collapsing empire into another fortune.

Fifty million dollars.

And she wasn’t finished yet.

Meanwhile, beside him, Lily was still staring at Eleanor.

Then her eyes slowly shifted toward Damon.

The mischievous smile on her lips widened.

So that’s how it is...

She glanced at her sister’s face in her mind.

Then back at Damon.

Claire really isn’t the only woman around him.

And for the first time, Lily began wondering whether she had a chance too.