•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•
For a moment, I seriously thought William Lockwood had completely lost it.
It wasn’t just the checkbook, although it definitely made me rethink every financial choice I’d made, including that sandwich I bought yesterday instead of saving for the financial storm looming ahead.
What really threw me off was the way he looked at me when he opened it. There was no sign of anger or frustration, nothing that suggested he thought his offer might be out of line.
He looked so sure. Sure that I had a price.
Sure that everyone had a price.
That if he called the right amount, I’d leave Damien behind and never looked back.
And according to the Lockwood family rules, I apparently topped the list.
I’ve been insulted lots of times by rich people, but this had to be the cherry on top.
William popped the cap off his pen and let it hover over the first page, waiting like he was unveiling some grand secret, the kind of pause you’d expect right before a magician pulled a rabbit out of a hat, except the rabbit here was a number with more zeroes than I’d ever seen outside of a math textbook.
"Ten million," he said without a hint of hesitation.
I just stared at him, convinced I must have misheard.
The café buzzed around us, blissfully unaware that my life had turned into the most expensive hostage scenario imaginable.
Somewhere behind me a blender screamed to life, and I remember thinking that even the smoothies in this place had better timing than me.
"What?"
"Ten million dollars," he repeated, sounding as casual as if he were discussing the cost of coffee.
"You could live a good life, quit this job of yours, pay your father’s hospital bills, buy a nice house... anything you want." William said, "The possibilities are endless."
I glanced at Evelyn. She sat next to him, hands neatly folded, posture perfectly straight, and her expression so composed it was almost painful, like she’d been carved out of the same marble as their kitchen counters.
She didn’t even blink, she really was Damien and Dianne’s mother.
Poor Damien and Dianne...
"That’s your opening offer?"
William raised an eyebrow, I couldn’t help myself.
"Because if we’re talking about my emotional ruin, I think ten million seems a bit low, how about you live Damien and I alone. That seems like a reasonable price, don’t you think?"
Neither of them laughed, of course not. Clearly, billionaires had agreed that humor was a trait reserved for those who were struggling.
William just kept watching me. "You’re making this unnecessarily complicated."
"I didn’t realize I was supposed to make it simple."
"You’re young," Evelyn said softly. "You’re emotional, we get that."
I almost laughed again. There it was, the classic young-and-stupid speech.
I’d been bracing for it since the moment they sat down, the way you brace for the second half of a bad movie you already know isn’t going to get better.
"I’ve heard that one before," I muttered. "I don’t need to hear it from you two."
"Stop being so selfish!" William snapped the checkbook closed halfway. "You need to grasp what our son has sacrificed!"
That stopped me in my tracks. The anger I’d been holding onto shifted, replaced by something colder.
"I know what Damien sacrificed. I’m not stupid, old man."
"Do you?" His voice stayed calm. "Because from where we’re standing, it looks like you don’t fully comprehend the extent of it."
He started listing things off, not with fingers but with the slow precision of someone presenting a case in court, each item landing like he’d rehearsed the delivery in front of a mirror that morning.
"His inheritance."
I swallowed.
"His position in this family."
My fingers tightened under the table.
"His entire future."
He paused, then added, "And a significant part of his personal wealth because of your father in the hospital, it would take long before he’s completely broke."
I already knew about that. I’d known Damien had spent money on my father’s treatment, but hearing it laid out like that, itemized like a receipt for a man’s whole life, made something twist uncomfortably in my stomach.
Evelyn leaned in slightly. "He’s made choices he wouldn’t have made before meeting you."
I looked at her. "Maybe he just finally started making choices for himself."
Her expression tightened. "Is that what you tell yourself?"
"No," I replied. "That’s what I know."
William sighed softly, almost like I was exhausting him, as if debating with me was a tedious chore he hadn’t planned for, something to be endured between more important meetings, filed away under Damien’s Problem.
"Damien was raised to understand responsibility."
"And apparently, that responsibility meant letting his parents control every decision he made."
His jaw hardened. For the first time, I saw a flicker of something beneath the polished surface. It vanished quickly, tucked back behind the same calm mask he’d been wearing since he sat down.
"You don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Actually, I know enough." My gaze flicked to the contract between us. "I know your son gave up his inheritance." I locked eyes with him.
"I know he was willing to walk away from his family." Lowering my voice, I added, "And I know he helped pay for my dad’s treatment when I couldn’t."
William didn’t flinch. "Exactly."
That word landed heavier than it should have.
"Exactly what?"
"You just outlined the problem yourself." He said. "He gave up everything for you."
"No." I shook my head. "He made a choice."
"Because of you."
"Because he loves me."
The words slipped out before I could pull them back. The table fell silent. Saying them out loud felt strange.
Not because they weren’t true. But because they suddenly felt so much heavier outside my head, out here in a café instead of just tucked away where I could keep them to myself, safe and unspoken and mine.
Evelyn was the first to look away. "You’ve convinced him that this is love."
I stared back at her. "You really don’t know your son at all, do you?"
Her eyes snapped back to me. William’s voice chilled. "Enough."
"No, actually, not enough." My fatigue was starting to flare up with anger. "You came into my workplace, insulted me, showed me private photos of me and Damien, accused me of manipulating him, and now you’re asking me to walk away from the person I love just because you think you know what’s best for him?!"
I leaned back slightly. "And somehow, I’m the unreasonable one?"
William’s expression remained steady. "We’re offering you a solution."
"You’re offering me money."
"Yes."
"Same thing, clearly."
"You could have a completely different life."
I let out a quiet laugh. There it was again. Money.
As if my whole life could be summed up by a number and handed back to me with a neatly signed check, like the problem itself was something you could staple to a piece of paper and mail away.
"You don’t get it."
"Then explain it, a person like you isn’t fit for our Damien." Evelyn said, "What? Do you think he could get used to a poor man’s life with you when he has an entire empire to rule? Do you not see what you’re taking from him?! Do you want him to live a life full of regrets when he finally comes to his senses?!"
That hit close to home, of Damien waking up and realizing that maybe he didn’t love me enough to give up that much for and regretting it.
Regretting chosing me, just like everyone else had them later walking away.
I glanced down at the checkbook. For a second, the temptation wasn’t even about the money.
That was the part I hated admitting to myself. Ten million dollars could flip everything upside down.
Not just for me, but for my father too. It could cover his medical care, the bills, and all the debt. No more worrying about how I was going to afford groceries. I could ensure Dad got the best treatment possible.
I could pay for his recovery without stressing over every single dollar. I could finally take a deep breath. For once in my life, I could actually breathe. And all I had to do was walk away from Damien.
My stomach twisted at the thought. I hated that they knew exactly how to press my buttons, like they’d done their homework and found the one sore spot guaranteed to make me hesitate, circled it in red pen, and brought it to a café to use against me over lukewarm lattes.
Evelyn noticed my hesitation. Her voice softened. "You see?"
I looked up.
"You understand now."
"No." My voice was quieter. "I understand what you’re trying to do."
"You could help your father, help yourself and help Damien too." She said, "All we’re asking is for you to take the money and disappear from Damien’s life completely."
That one hit hard, they knew it would.
"You could secure his future," she went on. "You could also secure your own. Damien will eventually realize what he has lost and come back to us...to his family."
I looked back at her. "And what exactly has he lost by having you all as a family?"
She shot me a look that made the answer painfully obvious...everything.