bChapter /bb200 /b

DAMIEN’S POV

“Come on, pick up,” I muttered under my breath, pacing back and forth across my hotel room. My thumb tapped impatiently against the side of my phone as I watched the screen. The call rang and rang, then went silent, straight to voicemail.

This was already the fifth time I was trying to reach Julian this morning. I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t exactly a morning personb, /bbbut /bbstill/bb–/bbit /bwas almost 8:40 a.m. by now. Normal people would be awake.

I sighed and nced around the room to distract myself. Sunlight filtered through the half–drawn curtains, casting long streaks across the floor and highlighting the neat stack of files on the table–documents about the auction, logistics for transporting Olivia’s car, and a few otherpany matters. Yet, despite everything else waiting for my attention, my mind was fixed on just one thing: Olivia.

Just as I was about to hang up and try againter, the call finally connected. A raspy, half–asleep voice drifted through the speaker.

“Hey, what up,” Julian mumbled.

Relief washed over me, but annoyance quickly followed. “This is the fifth time I’ve tried calling you! How are you still asleep at this time?” I asked, trying not to sound too irritated.

“Look, you of all people know howte I sleep ini,/ii” /ihe replied, his voice carrying thatzy calm he always seemed to have. “It’s not like I’m working for someone, so why should I wake up early?”

I paused, pinching the bridge of my nose. “That’s not my point,” I said, trying to steer us back to what mattered. “But let’s forget that for now. Let’s talk about why I really called.”

“Okay, and which is?” Julian asked, still sounding like he might doze off any

second.

“It’s about Olivia.”

There was a short silence on the other end. Then Julian spoke, a bit more alert now. “Isn’t she with you?”

“Yeah, she is,” I replied, lowering my voice slightly as if someone might overhear me–even though I was alone. “And that’s exactly why I’m calling. You know how I feel about her, Julian. I’ve been trying to show her, but… I don’t know, she just seems a little distant every time I try.”

I stopped pacing, standing by the window and staring down at the quiet street below. Cars movedzily, and a few pedestrians strolled by,pletely unaware of the thoughts swirling in my head.

“Okay, so why are you telling me this?” Julian asked, his voice carrying genuine confusion.

“Because you’re her brother,” I said quickly, my words tumbling out. “I know you two only discovered that about five years ago, but even before then, you were close with her. You understand her better than anyone else I know. I need some tips, Julian. I want to do this right.”

“What kind of tips are you talking about?” he asked, sounding slightly amused now.

he was still

feel like

“Well, for startersb… /ba way to get her attention,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “When I first met her, she was pregnant, and k healing from what happened before. But it’s been five years since then, Julian. I think she’s had enough time to heal… or at least, I hop nothing should hold me back anymore. She just won big at the auction, and I thought maybe I should get her flowers? Or something bto /bbshow /biI’m /ithinking of her.”

There was another pause. I could almost hear Julian trying to process everything.

“Flowers, huh,” he repeated slowly, as if testing the idea in his head.

“Yeah,” I continued, my voice a bit more hopeful now. “But not just ordinary ones. Maybe something thoughtfulb, /blike bher /bbfavorite flowers/bb… /bbthough /bbI’m /bembarrassed to say I’m not even sure what those are.”

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. It felt strange, admitting out loud that despite being around her all this btime/b, there were still details babout /bbher /bI didn 1 know. Details I wanted to know.

“I see, that’s a bold step given the woman she has be today. Anyway, I’m not really sure which flowers she likes, or if she even likes those bbut /bI can assure you of one thing–she likes boat rides. And I’m not talking about a yacht, I mean using a canoe with paddles, Julian saidb, /bhis voice steady band /bcalm despite the early hour.

I raised an eyebrow, the idea settling into my mind, but still sounding foreign. “And where am I supposed to find a canoeb?/bb” /bI askedb, /bbhalf /bamused band /bhalf

serious.

“You’re going to find a lot once you find a goodke,” Julian replied, almost teasingly.

“It’s strange, though,” I added after a moment of silence. “That someone like her would be interested in something so simple. I mean, she has bher /bown yacht.”

Julian chuckled softly through the call. “That’s just Olivia for you. Sometimes the simplest things speak to her heart more than all the grand bluxuries /bbshe /b

owns.”

His words stuck with me for a second. Even after five years, there were still parts of Olivia that surprised me. And somehowb, /bthat made me bwant /bbto /bbknow /b

her even more.

“Well,” I said, feeling a sudden burst of motivation, “I don’t mind going on a littleke adventure with her. In fact, I’m going to do that this bmorning/b.b” /b

“Alright then, I wish you luck,” Julian replied, his voice turning a bit more serious. “A little tip though–even if she might seem like she’s pushing everyone out, that’s just her. She has a really small circle, and sometimes it can be hard for her to let new people in. But if she sees that you’re genuine, she’ll notice that.”

“I’ll remember that,” I said, appreciating the advice more than I let on.

Julian cleared his throat. “Anyway, I have to go now. My dad has informed me that he’ll being to New York, which bI /bfind strange, but I still need bto /bprepare. So we’ll talkter.”

“And I have a small date to set up,” I added with a grin before ending the call.

As the call disconnected, I stared at my reflection in the mirror across the room. My hair was slightly messy, and my shirt was wrinkled from pacing back and forth, but none of that mattered right now. For some reason, the thought of seeing her this morning made my heart race in a way I hadn’t felt in a

while

“Alright, Damien, step one: check up on her,” I murmured to myself.

I grabbed my hotel ikey /icard from the desk, smoothed down my shirt, and walked to the door. My footsteps echoed softly in the hallway as I made my way towards her suite. In the back of my mind, I imagined how she might look this morning–maybe still in her robe, her hair slightly undone, the side bof /bOlivia most people never got to see.

Standing at her door, I let out a small breath, then knocked gently. There was a pause, and I could hear faint movement behind the door bbefore /bthe handle turned.

The door opened, and there ishe /iwas. Her hair was loosely tied, her eyes still carrying a hint of sleep, and bthe /bsoft fabric bof /bbher /brot shoulders. The second her eyes met mine, her lips curved into a small smile. And just like thatb, /bmy morning bfelt /bbbrighter/b.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice softer than usual, almost vulnerable in its rawness.

“Good morning,” I replied, my heart strangely calm. “Can Ie in?”

“Sure,” she said, stepping aside and pulling the door wider.

bgracefully /bbon her /b

bI /bstepped inside, the familiar scent of her perfume mixing with the faint freshness of the morning. bThe /bbcurtains /bbwere /bbslightly /bbparted/bb, /bbletting /bbthe /bbNew /bbYork /bsunlight spill ionto /ithe floor. For a moment, I just stood there, taking her in. Even with no makeupb, /bbeven /bbwithout /bbthe /bbsharp /bbsuits /band bexpensive /bbdresses /bshe looked… perfect.

b10:08 /bbSun/bb, /bb27 /b