Chapter 348: Our Peaceful Month Has Officially Expired!

[Damien Lockwood]

By five in the afternoon, Damien Lockwood had reached the conclusion that few things irritated him more than when people confused a casual agreement between wealthy families for an actual marriage proposal.

Unfortunately, it seemed the Sommers family had a particular knack for embracing that misconception.

He sat behind his desk, listening as his lawyer outlined the steps required to formally dissolve the remaining marriage arrangement between the Lockwood and Sommers families.

Beyond the windows of Damien’s office, the late afternoon sunlight glinted off New Havenport’s towering buildings, but Damien barely spared the view a glance as he reviewed the documents in front of him.

"Once the paperwork is ready, send it directly to the Sommers family’s legal representatives," he instructed. "I want the arrangement formally terminated, with no room for misunderstandings or further negotiations."

"Understood, Mr. Lockwood. Would you like to inform your parents personally before we proceed? Your parents may object to the decision, given the understanding between the families."

Damien leaned back in his chair, his expression hardening slightly.

"My mother has already been informed that I have no intention of marrying Isabella. I see no reason to repeat the conversation simply because she refuses to accept my answer."

"And if the Sommers family requests a meeting?"

"They can communicate through their lawyers. I’m not interested in rehashing the same conversation with three generations of people who seem to believe my personal life is a family investment."

There was a muffled sound from the other end of the line; perhaps a suppressed laugh.

Damien chose to ignore it.

"Send the documents tonight, and be explicit about the result. This decision is final."

"Understood, sir."

Once the call ended, Damien set his phone down next to the neatly arranged papers and sat quietly for a moment, gazing out at the city.

He had spent years allowing his parents to believe they could dictate every aspect of his life, from his friendships to the woman he was meant to marry.

Even after taking the reins of Lockwood Group, he had felt the repercussions of their meddling in ways that were often invisible to those around him.

Dissolving the arrangement with the Sommers family was, at least in theory, a straightforward business decision.

Yet he knew that there was often a vast difference between signing paperwork and managing the fallout that came with it.

His mother would see this as a blatant rejection of her influence, while the Sommers family would likely view it as an affront to their status.

Questions would arise, accusations would be thrown around, and who knows?

There might even be some planted stories trying to convince him to reconsider the benefits of cooperation.

Honestly, he didn’t care about any of that.

What weighed on him was the realization that once this became public, there’d be no turning back to the comforting illusion that his family might eventually accept his choices without a fight.

He had spent four years learning the toll of obeying them, and he wasn’t about to pay that price again.

This time, though, Oliver would be beside him when the consequences hit.

Damien leaned back in his chair, his expression tightening as he thought about the photos his security team had been tracking since they returned to New Havenport.

Initially, the images had been vague enough to allow speculation without revealing any real information.

But the photographers had grown bolder, and he had already instructed the team to find out how the clearer shots ended up getting released.

He had hoped for a little more time before Oliver became recognizable to anyone who cared to look.

Apparently, the universe had decided that a month of peaceful domesticity was too much to ask for a man in his position.

Damien picked up his phone again and shot Naomi a quick message asking for an update on the security arrangements around Oliver. Then he returned to the documents on his desk, fully aware that the upcoming weeks would demand far more from him than he had planned.

At least he could still look forward to going home.

That was no small comfort.

[Oliver]

I knew something was off when Damien came home and kissed my forehead without stealing a second kiss.

Now, before anyone thinks I’m being unreasonable, keep in mind that I’d spent a whole month living with him.

I had become accustomed to his patterns, including the annoying habit of kissing me once, then pulling away as if he remembered something urgent, only to return for another kiss. Because apparently, one just doesn’t cut it.

That evening, he greeted me with a gentle kiss, rested his hand against my waist as he walked behind me in the kitchen, and asked about my day without trying to distract me halfway through my answer.

I was starting to wonder if he was hiding a serious medical condition.

"You’re way too quiet," I remarked as he loosened his tie by the kitchen island.

"Am I?"

"Yes, you good? Should I call someone? Maybe your doctor, or your lawyer? Or an exorcist?"

His lips curved slightly as he reached for me, pulling me to his chest. "I didn’t realize you missed my voice so much."

"I don’t." I was just worried he might have developed the ability to think before he spoke, and I really didn’t want the world to lose such an entertaining source of unnecessary commentary.

He chuckled softly and kissed my temple, but when I looked up at him, I could see his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

It was a small thing, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t know him, but I’d become annoyingly attuned to those moments when Damien was carrying something he didn’t plan to discuss.

Naturally, I decided to address this with all the subtlety of a brick through a window.

"Did someone at work upset you? Because if you need me to write an angry email, just know my professional vocabulary is top-notch, and I know quite a few words that would make your HR department squirm like a bitch."

"I’ll keep that in mind."

"Good. Just so you know, I charge extra for proofreading."

He kissed my forehead again and turned toward the dining table, where Gabriel had prepared our dinner.

We ate together and for a while, it felt normal enough that I started to question if I had imagined his mood.

Then I noticed he hadn’t touched his food.

I slowly set down my fork. "Damien."

He looked up.

"Eat."

"I am eating."

"You’ve been pushing that piece of chicken around your plate for five minutes. If you’re trying to negotiate with it, I suggest you bring in a mediator."

His eyebrows shot up, but he complied and took another bite.

I felt a swell of satisfaction because apparently I’d turned into the kind of person who monitored the eating habits of a grown man with an entire corporation behind him.

Romance had really changed me.

After dinner, we settled on the couch with a movie playing in the background, though neither of us was really paying attention to it.

Damien held me close, occasionally brushing his lips over my hair while I scrolled through my phone, and for a little while, I let myself believe whatever had been bothering him during the day could stay bottled up until he was ready to talk.

Then I came across the photograph.

At first, I barely recognized it as anything more than another celebrity news post, the kind that pops up whenever someone rich wears a fancy watch in public or dares to have dinner without alerting the internet.

But then I saw Damien.

The picture showed us leaving a restaurant after our date, his hand resting on my waist as he guided me to the car.

The lighting was sharp, the angle infuriatingly good, and even though I was turned slightly toward him, my face was visible enough for anyone who knew me to spot me without needing a magnifying glass.

And the caption? Even worse.

LOCKWOOD HEIR’S MYSTERY COMPANION: SECRET ROMANCE OR STRATEGIC ALLIANCE?