102 Damien’s Bonfire Plea
Elara closed her laptop with a decisive click. She wouldn’t join them, but she wouldn’t let Damien’s unexpected visit derail her evening either.
“Perhaps not,” Elara conceded. “But I prefer to work while my mind is clear.”
Cora tugged at his sleeve. “Dad, please don’t.make Mom come. We’re having fun without her.”
“If Eleanor asks,” Elara added, softening her tone slightly, “you can tell her I wasn’t feeling well. I’ll back up your story.”
A brief silence fell over the adults. Cora’s face scrunched up in displeasure.
Lucas nodded. “Cora, would you like to go ask your mother to join us?”
“He’s just doing it for Eleanor’s sake,” she murmured to Lucas, though loud enough for others to hear. “You know how his grandmother gets when Elara is excluded.”
“One evening won’t derail your project,” he said.
Vivienne Dubois sat elegantly on a log bench, her cashmere shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She swirled the wine in her glass, watching as Cora chased a few other children around the perimeter of the gathering.
“Is that really your choice?” he asked, his voice dropping to a softer register that she hadn’t heard in years. “Or is it easier than facing everyone?”
“Goodnight, Damien,” she said instead, her tone making it clear the conversation was
over.
at her
Through her partially open window, she could hear distant laughter from the bonfire. She imagined Damien returning to sit beside Vivienne, imagined Cora’s reli boring mother hadn’t come to spoil their fun.
Elara stepped back slightly. “Then I appreciate the invitation, but I have work to finish.”
The sharp knock on her door came as an unwelcome interruption.
Everyone turned in surprise as Damien rose to his feet, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the firelight.
102 Damien’s Bonfire Plea
Elara felt heat rise to her cheeks under his scrutiny. She couldn’t read him anymore–if she ever truly could. The realization bothered her more than she cared to admit.
Damien stood in the hallway, his imposing figure filling the doorframe. He was still dressed in his casual retreat attire–dark jeans and a charcoal sweater that emphasized his broad shoulders.
As Damien walked away toward the main building, Vivienne watched him go with narrowed eyes.
“Damien,” she said, unable to hide her surprise. “Is something wrong with Cora?”
To her surprise, Damien chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Always so considerate of others‘ feelings,” he murmured, his gaze intensifying. “Even now.”
Cora immediately slowed down, shooting Vivienne an adoring smile. “I won’t!”
Lucas looked around at the group and frowned slightly. “Shouldn’t we invite Elara down? I noticed she’s not here.”
“No,” he replied, his expression unreadable. “She’s fine.”
“It can wait,” Damien said, his deep voice carrying a note of… something. Not quite command, but not a request either.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Elara crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly conscious of her casual attire.
“Did Eleanor ask you to invite me?” she asked directly.
“But Dad,” Cora protested, “if Mom comes, she’ll just sit there being boring and quiet like always.”
“The stew is almost ready,” he announced, stirring the large pot suspended over one side of the fire. “And the chicken should be perfect in about ten minutes.”
“Mom’s probably working,” she said with the dismissive tone children often adopt when repeating adult phrases they’ve heard. “She’s always working.”
“You still have a key to my room,” she observed, her tone carefully neutral.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he said, ignoring the questioning looks from the group.
She was done trying to decipher Damien Thorné.
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102 Damien’s Bonfire Plea
“Was there something you needed?” she finally asked.
Vivienne’s lips curved into a barely concealed smirk. “Perhaps someone should go invite her. For appearances, of course.” Her tone made it clear she expected the invitation to be rejected.
Elara stood motionless, staring at the closed door. What had just happened? What game was Damien playing now?
Elara frowned, wondering if room service had forgotten something. She set her laptop aside and padded to the door, opening it without checking the peephole.
“I’m not,” she interrupted, surprising even herself with her firmness. “My work is genuinely important to me, Damien. More important than socializing around a bonfire with people who would rather I wasn’t there.”
Lucas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I could go invite her myself.”
Damien’s eyes narrowed slightly. In the past, that look would have made her immediately back down, desperate to avoid his disapproval. Now, she held his gaze steadily.
Damien crouched down to his daughter’s level. “Cora, that’s not a nice thing to say. Your mother deserves to be invited, even if she decides not to join us.”
Elara blinked, momentarily thrown by the unexpected invitation. “I’ve already ordered dinner,” she said, gesturing to the pasta dish.
“Cora,” Damien said, his tone carrying a gentle reprimand.
uetted
She expected him to leave immediately, to return to the gathering where Vivienne and Cora awaited him. Instead, he remained in the doorway, his tall figure s against the hallway light.
The little girl’s eyes widened. “No! I don’t want her to come down.”
The crackle of the bonfire punctuated the night air as laughter and conversation flowed among the gathered guests. Lucas Sterling tossed another log onto the flames, causing sparks to dance upward like fireflies.
He studied her for a moment longer, his expression inscrutable. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, the door clicking shut behind him.
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102 Damien’s Bonfire Plea
Before Elara could ask anything else, Damien slipped a key card back into his pocket. She realized he hadn’t knocked after all–he’d used his card to access her room, and the sound had been the electronic lock disengaging.
Upstairs in her room, Elara had just settled on the bed with her laptop balanced on her knees. Her room service dinner had arrived moments ago–a simple pasta dish that sat steaming on the side table. She’d changed into comfortable loungewear, finally relaxing after the tense encounter with Vivienne earlier.
Something shifted in his expression–a flicker of what might have been surprise. For a moment, she thought he might argue further. Instead, he gave a slight nod.
“Thank you for coming up to ask me,” she said firmly, stepping back toward her laptop, “but I don’t want to go
down.”
She pulled up her project files, diving back into the complex AI algorithm she’d been refining. The work immediately absorbed her, providing the familiar comfort of logic and clear problems to solve.
“I’ll go,” he stated simply.
Damien’s gaze traveled past her to the open laptop and the untouched dinner. “We’re having a bonfire party downstairs. Food, drinks, everyone’s there.” His eyes returned to hers. “You should join us.”
“If you’re worried about Vivienne—” he began.
“You can order again later if you’re still hungry.”
“It can’t, actually,” she countered, her resolve strengthening. “I have a deadline.”
The unexpected question caught her off guard. It struck too close to a truth she wasn’t ready to examine.
“That won’t be necessary.”
She studied his face, trying to read his motivation. Was this another obligation he was fulfilling? Another task on his list?
Vivienne’s eyebrows shot up. “Damien?”
“Cora, darling,” Vivienne called out. “Be careful not to get too close to the fire.”
102 Damien’s Bonfire Plea
She returned to her bed, but the laptop screen now seemed to mock her with its complex algorithms and coding. Her concentration was shattered.
A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “No. My grandmother doesn’t even know we’re having a bonfire.”
“We’re still married,” he responded simply.
She picked up her cooling pasta and took a bite, determined to reclaim her peace. Whatever Damien’s motives had been–obligation, manipulation, or something else entirely–she refused to spend the night puzzling over them.
She could feel his scrutiny like a physical presence, his dark eyes taking in every detail of her face. Once, she had dreamed of having his full attention like this. Now it made
her uneasy.
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