Chapter 118 – Family Concerns and an Unexpected Admirer
As Damien left my apartment after lunch, I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of relief and anxiety. The meeting with my grandmother and aunt had gone surprisingly well,
followed but I knew the real conversation was about to begin. Grandma’s sharp eyes him to the door, assessing his every move.
“Such impeccable manners,” she commented as the door closed behind him. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected from someone of his background:
I busied myself with gathering the empty takeout containers, balancing awkwardly to avoid putting weight on my injured knee. “He’s just naturally considerate.”
Aunt Esther swooped in and took the containers from my hands. “Sit down. Hazel. You’re supposed to be resting that knee.” She guided me to the couch where Grandma was already settling herself.
I sank into the cushions, preparing for the interrogation I knew was coming. The silence stretched for a moment before Grandma spoke.
“He seems quite taken with you,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.
“We’re just friends,” I replied automatically, though even to my own ears the words sounded hollow,
Aunt Esther snorted. “Friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “It’s complicated.”
“Love always is,” Grandma said softly, patting my hand. “But some complications are more… challenging than others.”
I felt a prickle of defensiveness. “If you’re worried about his family not accepting me-
“It’s not just that,” Grandma interrupted. “Though that is certainly a concern. The
al connections, military Sterlings aren’t just wealthy, Hazel. They’re old money, pc ties. They operate in circles most people never even glimpse.”
“I know who they are,” I said quietly.
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“And you’re still legally married to Julian,” Aunt Esther added. “Even if the divorce is proceeding.
I flinched at the reminder. “The paperwork should be finalized soon.”
Grandma’s eyes softened with concern. “And then there’s your father.”
The mention of my father made my stomach clench. Harrison Ashworth, currently serving time for fraud and embezzlement a stain on my family name that never quite washed out.
“None of that matters to Damien,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Perhaps not to him personally,” Grandma replied. “But families like the Sterlings care deeply about appearances, connections, lineage. Your mother was my daughter, and I loved her dearly, but your father’s actions have cast a shadow over your family name.” The truth of her words stung, even though I’d thought them myself countless times. “I’m not ashamed of who I am,” I said, lifting my chin.
“Nor should you be,” Aunt Esther said fiercely. “You’ve built something beautiful with your design work, completely on your own.”
“I’m just asking you to be careful,” Grandma said. “I’ve seen what happens when people from different worlds try to bridge too wide a gap. It’s the woman who usually ends up falling into the chasm.
I swallowed hard, remembering my mother’s fate–how my father’s betrayal had crushed her spirit until nothing remained but a shell of the vibrant woman she once
was.
“Damien isn’t like that,” I said softly. “He’s been nothing but kind and supportive.”
“For now,” Grandma replied, not unkindly. “Men like that–men with power–they’re used to getting what they want, What happens when the newness wears off? When the challenges of your background become inconvenient?”
in the
ars. What if Damien
The question
air between us, voicing my deepe eventually saw me as a burden? What if his family deemed me unsuitable? What if I was setting myself up for a heartbreak even more devastating than Julian’s betrayal?
“I’m not–we’re not-“I stumbled over my words. “We haven’t made any decisions yet.”
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Aunt Esther sat beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “We just want you to protect your heart, sweetheart. It’s been through enough lately.”
I leaned into her embrace, grateful for her warmth. “I know. And I appreciate your concern, both of you. But Damien is…” How could I explain what he’d become to me? “He’s different from anyone I’ve ever known.”
Grandma studied me for a long moment. “I can see he matters to you. Just promise me you’ll move forward with your eyes open. The Sterling family didn’t get where they are by being sentimental.”
“I promise.” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’m being careful.”
But even as I spoke the words, I wondered if it was already too late for caution. Damien had somehow wound himself around my heart, thread by thread, until I could no longer imagine my life without him in it.
The next morning, a knock at my apartment door pulled me from my work. I’d been sketching new designs since dawn, trying to distract myself from thoughts of Damien and my family’s concerns.
“Coming!” I called, setting aside my sketchbook and limping to the door. My knee was feeling better, but the doctor had instructed me to take it easy for a few days.
I opened the door to find Cherry, my assistant, clutching a folder of papers and wearing a slightly harried expression.
“Sorry to bother you at home,” she said, stepping inside when I gestured her in. “But these contracts need your signature today, and I knew you weren’t coming to the office.”
“It’s no problem,” I assured her, leading her to my dining table where I’d spread out my work. “I was getting stir–crazy anyway. How’s everything at the studio?”
“Busy,” she replied, laying out the contracts. “The spring collection is generating a lot of buzz. And the new fabrics from Milan finally arrived.”
I smiled, grateful for the normality of work discussions after the emotional intensity of yesterday. “That’s great. Any problems with the production timeline?”
Cherry shook her head, then hesitated. “Not with production, but… Mr. Vance stopped
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by the studio yesterday.”
I looked up sharply. Philip Vance was one of our biggest investors, a shrewd businessman who’d backed my brand when it was just starting out. He rarely made personal appearances at the studio.
“What did he want?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.
Cherry fidgeted with the edge of a contract. “He was asking about you, actually. Wanted to know how you were doing after your injury.”
“That was… thoughtful of him,” I said slowly, surprised by his concerni,
“He also asked about the man who’s been picking you up from the studio lately.” Cherry’s eyes met mine, curious but professional. “He seemed quite interested in Mr. Sterling.
My pen paused over the signature line. “What exactly did he ask?”
“Just who he was, how you knew each other.” Cherry shrugged lightly. “I told him I didn’t know much, just that Mr. Sterling was a friend who’s been helping you since your accident.”
I finished signing the last contract, my mind racing. Philip had always been politely distant in our professional relationship–interested in the business but never in my personal life. Why the sudden curiosity?
“Actually,” Cherry continued, her voice dropping slightly, “I got the impression Mr. Vance was asking for… personal reasons.”
I blinked. “Personal reasons? What do you mean?”
Cherry’s cheeks colored slightly. “Well, he’s always been very supportive of you specifically, not just the brand. And yesterday, he seemed… I don’t know, a bit jealous when asking about Mr. Sterling?”
I nearly laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. “Philip Vance is not interested in me that way. He’s a successful businessman who happens to believe in my designs.
erry replied, not entirely convinced.” he did ask me to let him know when you’d be back in the office. Said he wanted to discuss something important
“If you say so,” Cherry “L
with you.
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I stacked the signed contracts and handed them back to her. “Well, I’ll be back tomorrow. He can schedule a meeting like anyone else.”
Cherry nodded, taking the contracts. “There’s one more thing. The studio received flowers yesterday–for you personally. They didn’t have a card, but they were quite expensive. Orchids, arranged beautifully
My thoughts immediately went to Damien, but he would have sent them directly to my apartment, not the studio. And he always included a note.
*Probably just from a client,” I said, brushing off the strange feeling settling in my
stomach.
After Cherry left, I found myself staring out the window, thinking about Philip Vance, We’d known each other for nearly three years, ever since he’d approached me after a small fashion showcase. His investment had been crucial in helping me expand my brand, and he’d always been professional, if somewhat aloof.
Could Cherry be right? Had he developed feelings for me? The thought seemed ridiculous–Philip was at least fifteen years my senior, devastatingly successful, and could have any woman he wanted. Why would he be interested in me, especially now, when my personal life was such a mess?
And yet… there had been moments. Times when his gaze lingered a beat too long, or when he’d gone out of his way to support my more experimental designs. I’d always attributed it to professional respect.
I shook my head, dismissing the idea. I had enough complications in my life without imagining more. And besides, my thoughts kept circling back to Damien–his gentle hands, his unwavering support, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at me.
Still, as I returned to my sketches, I couldn’t quite shake the unsettling feeling that something had shifted. First my family’s warnings about Damien, and now this strange development with Philip… It was as if the ground beneath my feet was slowly tilting, pushing me toward a precipice I couldn’t yet see.
n my contacts. Then,
I picked up my phone, thumb hovering over Damien’s na deciding against it, I set the phone down. I needed to think, to sort through these complications on my own before I dragged him further into my chaotic life.
The mystery flowers bothered me more than I cared to admit. Anonymous gifts always
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carried an undertone of presumption, as if the sender believed they had a right to my attention without revealing themselves.
If Philip Vance was indeed developing an interest in me beyond our professional relationship, how would that affect my business? My brand? And more pressingly, how would it affect whatever was growing between Damien and me?
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