Chapter 26 Beyond the Headlines: Damien’s Personal Invitation
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I stood in front of my mother’s grave, tracing the cold stone with my fingertips. The jade bracelet glimmered on my wrist, catching the soft morning light. It felt right that I brought it here first–a piece of our family history returned home.
“I got it back, Mom,” I whispered. “Your bracelet. I know how much it meant to you.”
The cemetery was quiet, with only the rustling of leaves breaking the silence. After the chaos of the auction and the shocking sight of Ivy coughing up blood, I needed this moment of peace. Julian had rushed her to the hospital without another word to me, his eyes filled with panic and something else–guilt, perhaps, or regret. I didn’t stick around to find out.
Instead, I’d returned to Jiangcheng immediately, drawn back to this place where I felt closest to my mother. The weight of everything that had happened–and the enormous debt I now owed- pressed down on me.
Three hundred million yuan. The number was so astronomical it barely seemed real.
“I don’t know how I’m going to repay him, Mom,” I said softly. “But I will. Somehow.”
I placed fresh flowers on her grave and stood up, brushing dirt from my knees. Whatever happened next, I knew what I had to do: face my new reality head–on.
The following morning, I arrived at the Ashworth Bespoke office earlier than usual. My assistant Cherry was already there, eyes wide as I walked in.
“Hazel! Have you seen what’s happening online?” she asked, practically bouncing with excitement.
“What do you mean?” I set my bag down with a frown.
Cherry thrust her phone at me, and I scrolled through a barrage of social media posts, news articles, and gossip columns. All of them about me–and Damien Sterling.
“Fashion Designer Captures Sterling Heir’s Heart?‘ ‘Mystery Woman Behind Sterling’s 300 Million Yuan Gesture?” I read aloud, my stomach dropping. “What is this nonsense?”
“It’s everywhere!” Cherry exclaimed. “Everyone’s talking about how Mr. Sterling bought that bracelet for you. Some people are saying you two have been secretly dating, others think it was love at first sight-”
“Stop,” I cut her off, handing the phone back. “None of that is true. He was just being kind.” But even as I said it, I wondered. Why would someone like Damien Sterling spend such an
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obscene amount of money on a stranger? The question had kept me awake most of the night.
Cherry tilted her head. “Kind? Men like Damien Sterling don’t spend three hundred million yuan
just to be ‘kind, boss.”
“Well, this one did,” I insisted, moving toward my office. “And I’m going to pay him back every penny, somehow.”
“Pay him back?” Cherry’s jaw dropped. “But it was a gift!”
I shook my head firmly. “It was help when I needed it, and I’m grateful. But I won’t be indebted to anyone, not even Damien Sterling.”
As I settled at my desk, I pulled up the news on my computer. My face stared back at me from multiple websites–photos from the auction, old shots from fashion events, even a blurry picture of me leaving my apartment building. The headlines ranged from merely speculative to downright ridiculous.
I winced at one that read: “Sterling’s New Muse: From Jilted Bride to Billionaire’s Obsession.”
This was exactly what I didn’t want. After everything with Julian and Ivy, the last thing I needed was more public scrutiny or rumors about my love life.
I was about to close the browser when something strange happened. One by one, the articles started disappearing. Refreshing the page showed 404 errors where salacious headlines had been moments before. Social media posts vanished mid–scroll.
It was happening in real time, right before my eyes.
“Cherry!” I called out.
She rushed in, coffee in hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Look at this,” I gestured to my screen. “All the articles about me and Damien Sterling–they’re disappearing.”
We watched together as the digital traces of yesterday’s auction spectacle were systematically erased. Within fifteen minutes, it was as if the rumors had never existed.
“How is this possible?” Cherry whispered, wide–eyed.
I knew exactly how. Or rather, who.
“Damien Sterling,” I said quietly. “It has to be.”
The realization sent a curious shiver down my spine. The level of power required to scrub the internet clean like this was staggering. And he’d done it without even asking me. Without fanfare or expectation of gratitude.
“Boss, Cherry said carefully, “I don’t mean to pry, but… is there something going on between you two?”
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“No,” I answered firmly. “But I do owe him a thank you. And a conversation about repayment.”
I reached for my phone, then hesitated. How exactly does one call Damien Sterling? It wasn’t like I had his personal number.
With a deep breath, I searched online for the main line to Sterling Enterprises. The receptionist who answered sounded surprised when I asked for Mr. Sterling, but she transferred me anyway, probably expecting his secretary to intercept.
Instead, after two rings, a deep voice answered. “Sterling.”
My heart jumped to my throat. “Mr. Sterling? This is Hazel Ashworth.”
There was a brief pause. “Miss Ashworth. This is unexpected.”
His voice was exactly how I remembered it–rich and smooth, with a subtle authority that made. my skin tingle.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important,” I said, suddenly nervous.
“Not at all. What can I do for you?”
I tightened my grip on the phone. “First, I wanted to thank you for what you did at the auction. Both for the bracelet and for… whatever you just did with the online rumors.”
A soft chuckle came through the line. “You noticed that quickly.”
“It was happening right in front of me.”
“I thought you might prefer privacy over speculation,” he said simply.
“I do. Thank you.” I took a deep breath. “The other reason I’m calling is because I’d like to discuss repayment. For the bracelet.”
Another pause, longer this time. “That won’t be necessary.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Sterling, it is necessary. To me.” Istood from my desk, pacing as I spoke. “Three hundred million yuan isn’t something I can ignore, even if you can.”
“The bracelet clearly meant a great deal to you,” he said. “That’s payment enough.”
“It did. It does,” I admitted. “It was my mother’s. But that doesn’t change my position.”
I could almost hear him thinking on the other end of the line. Finally, he spoke again. “You’re quite determined, aren’t you?”
“When it matters, yes.”
“Very well, he conceded, a note of amusement in his voice. “If you insist on discussing this, perhaps you’d join me for dinner?”
The invitation caught me off guard. “Dinner?”
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“Yes. Tomorrow evening? I know a place where we can speak privately.”
My mind raced with implications. Dinner with Damien Sterling. Just the two of us. I could already imagine the new wave of rumors if anyone saw us together.
But I needed to resolve this debt, one way or another.
“Tomorrow works for me,” I agreed. “Where should I meet you?”
“I’ll have a car pick you up at seven.”
“That’s not necessary. I can drive myself—”
“Please,” he interrupted gently. “Allow me this small courtesy.”
There was something in his tone that made arguing feel pointless. “Alright. Seven o’clock.”
“Excellent.” He paused again. “And Miss Ashworth?”
“Yes?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The warmth in his voice sent a flutter through my chest. “Me too.”
After he hung up, I sank back into my chair, my heart racing inexplicably. It was just a business dinner to discuss repayment, I reminded myself. Nothing more.
Yet as I tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, my thoughts kept drifting back to his voice, to the auction, to the mysterious man who had stepped into my life so unexpectedly.
Just before I left the office, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:
“In case you need to reach me directly. -DS”
I stared at the screen in disbelief. Damien Sterling had given me his private number. The
gesture felt oddly intimate, as if we’d just crossed some invisible boundary.
With slightly trembling fingers, I saved the contact, a strange excitement building inside me as I contemplated tomorrow’s dinner and what it might bring.
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