Chapter 360: Family Reunion: Nobody Asked for This Shit

For several long seconds, Damien just sat there in silence, and I could feel a shift in him like someone had flung open a window in the middle of winter.

The man who had spent the last month breaking free from his father’s grip was still right in front of me, but the warmth had faded, replaced by a cold composure I recognized from all those stories he had told me about his family.

"Make sure security knows no one gets in without my permission," he finally said. "Get the legal team on standby and send me everything they’ve communicated with the office. I want to know exactly what they’ve been told and what they’re planning to ask."

"Of course, sir."

"And Naomi?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for keeping me in the loop."

There was a brief pause, like she hadn’t expected the thank you, before she replied, "You’re welcome, sir. I’ll keep you posted."

Damien ended the call and lowered his phone, staring at the screen for a second before placing it down next to me.

I was still perched on the counter, my hair a mess from his fingers and my lips probably swollen enough to show that we’d been doing something a lot less formal than discussing corporate governance.

Just moments ago, we’d been locked in a debate about kids and miracles, and now I felt that familiar wave of unease rolling between us.

I reached out for his hand.

He looked at me, and for a split second, I caught a glimpse of the strain he was trying to hide—not because he doubted he could face his parents, but because he knew all too well the havoc they could wreak when things didn’t go their way.

I squeezed his fingers, giving him my support without pretending the situation was any simpler than it was.

Damien wrapped his hand around mine, his thumb gliding over my knuckles before he met my gaze.

He had been so composed since that last call, almost unsettlingly so, but I knew him well enough to see the tension in his shoulders and how his jaw tightened every time William’s name popped up on his screen.

"They’re going to be very unpleasant," he finally said, setting his phone aside.

I almost laughed, when have those fuckers ever been pleasant?

I looked at him over the rim of my mug. "That’s a polite way to describe people who’ve turned ruining your life into a hobby."

"Oliver."

"What? I’m just trying to be respectful."

His mouth twitched, but the amusement drained away almost immediately when he shifted his gaze back to the windows.

"They’re probably going to insult you," he warned. "They might bring up your dad, your background, your schooling... anything they think they can use to make you feel like you don’t belong. I won’t pretend they’ll act reasonably, and I won’t ask you to sit through it if you don’t want to."

I set my mug on the coffee table and studied him closely, realizing the offer to leave wasn’t meant to push me away, but was his way of giving me a choice he hadn’t had the chance to make for himself years ago.

"You want me to leave before they show up?"

"I want you to know that you can if you want to." He stepped closer, his expression softening as he took my hand. "You don’t owe them anything, Sunshine. You don’t have to prove anything to them, and you definitely don’t have to give them the chance to hurt you again."

I intertwined my fingers with his, giving a gentle squeeze.

"Damien, I spent four years believing you chose them and being a big shot over me. Even after you explained everything, I had to learn to trust that you wouldn’t disappear again. I’m not going to spend my life running every time they show up to remind us they disapprove of our relationship."

He searched my face with his gaze, and I offered him a small smile. "Besides, I’ve been insulted by people who had a lot less money and way worse hair. I think I can handle this."

This time, he actually laughed, though there was a weary edge to it that made me want to pull him close and shield him from the world’s demands.

He shook his head and brought me against him, resting his chin on my hair for a brief moment before kissing my forehead.

"I love you," he murmured.

"And I love you too. You’ve got terrible taste by the way, but I’m thankful for it."

We waited for nearly two hours, during which Damien went through documents, got updates from Naomi, and made a few calls to ensure that his parents couldn’t just waltz into the penthouse and start barking orders like the whole building was their private domain.

I stayed close without hovering, occasionally bringing him coffee or sitting beside him while he worked. Even though the afternoon felt long, there was something comforting about our quiet routine.

It reminded me that while William and Evelyn had shaped Damien’s childhood, they had no power over the life he had built since then.

Eventually, the intercom buzzed.

Damien answered, listened for a moment, and then pressed the button to let the lobby connect.

"They’re here," he said.

I set my book down. "Great. I was starting to think we’d have to spend the whole afternoon enjoying ourselves."

Damien shot me a look that suggested he might regret reintroducing me to his family even before things had kicked off, but he took my hand as we headed to the living room together.

We had barely settled in when the front door swung open, and William Lockwood’s voice boomed into the penthouse before he even stepped inside.

"Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?! I’ve been kept downstairs for nearly ten minutes while some glorified security guard decides whether or not I’m allowed to see my own son!"

I glanced at Damien.

"Glorified security guard," I whispered. "That’s a new one. Does he insult everyone who tries to stop him, or is this just for family?"

"Shh," Damien murmured, though a hint of amusement flickered across his face.

William stormed into the living room, looking like a man who expected an apology but was met with disappointment.

His hair was neatly styled, his dark suit was expensive enough to cover my student’s university tuition for months, and his face was already flushed with anger.

Evelyn followed closely behind him, wearing a chic cream suit, her posture rigid and her expression so perfectly composed that she seemed almost detached from the chaos her husband was causing.

She looked exactly as I remembered from four years ago, when she’d seen me as an obstacle that could be removed with enough money and well-placed threats.

William was still talking when he finally noticed me.

His words stopped.

For a brief moment, he just gaped, his eyes darting from me to Damien and back again, as if he couldn’t comprehend how the person he’d worked so hard to eliminate from his son’s life had somehow reappeared right in his penthouse.

Evelyn’s gaze moved more slowly, taking in the coffee mugs on the table, the blanket draped over the couch, and my shoes by the entrance where I’d left them that morning.

Her eyes flickered over to the hoodie resting on the armrest before returning to me, and the disdain in her expression deepened when she realized I wasn’t just a visitor... I lived here.

Apparently, that revelation was far more offensive than anything I could have said.

William recovered first. "What the hell is he doing here?"

Wow, hello to you too!

I looked around the room as if searching for the person he could have meant, then turned back to him.

"Sup, Mr. Lockwood."

His face darkened. "I thought we got rid of you years ago, you gold-digging rat!"

"Father," Damien said, his tone so level it made his father’s shouting sound even more absurd. "If you plan to scream, at least try not to humiliate yourself before you’ve taken off your coat."

William spun around to him, incredulous.

"Do not tell me how to behave in my own family’s presence!"

"Then act like an adult, and I won’t have to."

I pressed my lips together, holding back laughter since that probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction, but Damien’s retort had the casual ease of someone reminding a waiter they’d ordered sparkling water instead of still.

His father, unfortunately, did not appreciate the exchange.

"You’ve humiliated this family!" William bellowed. "You called off a perfectly respectable engagement without even consulting us, let the whole situation go public, and now I find out you’ve dragged this boy back into your life as if the last four years meant nothing!"

"That’s pretty much what happened," Damien replied, boredly. "I went and got him back."

William just stared at him.

I had to admit, it was a beautifully terrible response.

"Is this funny to you, you imbecile?!" his father demanded. "Do you even understand what you’ve thrown away? Your reputation, your future, the legacy your mother and I built our lives around, all for some temporary distraction from the wrong class?"