Father

Ahicia sat in her office, a stack of files spread across her desk. Her black hair was tied back in a loose bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. The day had been relentless, filled with reports and updates she barely cared about, but she knew better than to let her guard down. Damian didn't tolerate incompetence, and she wasn't about to give him any reason to doubt her.

She glanced up at the clock, noting it was past the usual dinner hour. With a sigh, she picked up the next file, her red eyes scanning the text.

The soft click of the door opening pulled her attention away. Damian stepped into the room, his presence as commanding as ever. Dressed in a dark suit with his hair neatly combed back, he looked every bit the formidable leader he was.

"You're still working," he said, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.

"I'm always working," Ahicia replied, leaning back in her chair. "Is there something you need?"

Damian smirked, crossing the room to stand in front of her desk. "Actually, I'm here to pull you away from all this. We're going out tonight."

She arched an eyebrow. "Out? Why?"

"Do I need a reason?" he countered, his tone light but with an edge that suggested he wasn't in the mood for an argument.

Ahicia sighed. "Fine. Let me guess—some exclusive restaurant where the menu doesn't even have prices?"

"Something like that," he said vaguely, his smirk deepening.

Before she could press him further, the door opened again, and Lysandra entered, carrying a tray with a cup of tea. She placed it on the desk and glanced between Ahicia and Damian, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"A dinner date, hmm?" Lysandra said, her tone teasing. "How romantic."

"It's just dinner," Ahicia said quickly, feeling her cheeks heat.

Lysandra chuckled. "Of course. Just dinner." She turned to Damian, her eyes gleaming with something Ahicia couldn't quite place. "Be sure she wears something fitting for the occasion. First impressions are everything."

"Noted," Damian replied, his tone unreadable.

Lysandra lingered for a moment, her smile shifting into something more enigmatic. "And remember, Ahicia, not everything is as it seems. Sometimes, the truth is hidden in plain sight."

Ahicia frowned, her gaze narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Lysandra said with a wave of her hand, her expression all innocence. "Just some friendly advice."

With that, she left the room, leaving Ahicia to stew in confusion.

Damian, however, seemed unfazed. "I'll pick you up in an hour," he said, his voice firm.

"An hour?" Ahicia repeated, scowling. "That's barely enough time—"

"You'll manage," he said, cutting her off before walking out.

An hour later, Ahicia found herself in a sleek black gown, its simple yet elegant design accentuating her figure. Her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and despite her annoyance at the rushed preparation, she couldn't deny she looked good.

Damian, as expected, was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit with subtle silver accents. When she joined him downstairs, he gave her an approving once-over.

"You'll do," he said, his smirk returning.

"Gee, thanks," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

The car ride was quiet, save for the low hum of the engine. Damian didn't offer any details about their destination, and Ahicia didn't press him, too preoccupied with Lysandra's cryptic words.

It wasn't until they pulled up to the sprawling estate that realization began to dawn.

"This doesn't look like a restaurant," she said, her voice laced with suspicion.

"That's because it's not," Damian admitted, stepping out of the car.

Her heart sank as she took in the imposing mansion before them. The gothic architecture, the iron gates, the long driveway—it all screamed wealth and power.

"What's going on?" she demanded as he opened her door.

"You'll see," he said, his tone giving nothing away.

Inside, Ahicia was met with opulence that made her feel small. The hallways were lined with portraits of stern-faced men and women who all bore a striking resemblance to Damian. It didn't take long to meet the man of the hour—Valerius Moonlight the First, Damian's father.

The evening passed in a haze of tense introductions, pointed questions, and subtle power plays. Valerius was every bit as imposing as his surroundings, his golden eyes scrutinizing Ahicia with a sharpness that made her skin crawl.

When they finally returned to the car, Ahicia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Care to explain what that was about?" she asked, glaring at Damian.

"I told you," he said, his voice tired. "Dinner."

"That wasn't dinner," she shot back. "That was an interrogation."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It was necessary."

"For what?"

"To show him who you are," Damian said, his tone softer now. "And to remind him who I am."

Ahicia frowned, the pieces slowly falling into place. Then, like a lightning bolt, Lysandra's words came rushing back.

"Wait," she said, her eyes widening. "That's what Lysandra was trying to tell me, wasn't it? That this wasn't just dinner."

Damian didn't respond, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You could've warned me," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"And miss the look on your face?" he teased. "Never."

Despite her annoyance, she couldn't help but smile. "You're impossible."

"And you're learning," he replied, his tone filled with something close to pride.