Chapter 7

TW: Swearing, angina (I tried to write it the best I could, sorry if I portrayed it wrong)

Damien got to the building earlier than usual, anxiety already rising in his chest as he walked to his office. He pulled out his phone and sighed, realizing he still didn't have Remy's number. Great. He hadn't asked for it to try to avoid doing something stupid that he'd later regret... like he had wanted to do a few times in the past two weeks. He walked in, leaving the door open and went to his chair, starting his laptop and preparing all the papers he needed.

He checked the time again, for the fifth time since he'd left home. 7:57 am. Thirty-three minutes until the meeting. The dreaded meeting was finally here. He hoped Remy would make it on time to help him out. He hadn't been late since his first day, but he was still worried about that. Every single detail seemed too much to handle at that point.

He looked up as he heard the elevator door open. 7:59 am. Perfect timing.

Remy walked straight to Damien's office, making the older male smile lightly before looking away to hide the light blush he felt dusting his cheeks. Remy wore a white button-up and his usual black leather jacket along with a pair of jeans and black combat boots. His sunglasses were on his head, letting his beautiful grey eyes show. His brown hair was combed to the side and he had covered his freckle with some makeup as he sometimes did.

He smiled. "Mr. Sanders," he said. "Ready for the meeting?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. Damien glanced at him without saying anything. "You seem nervous," he pointed out. "Don't worry, you'll do great," he reassured, getting a small, sheepish smile from Damien, who was focused on his laptop again. "How bad can it be?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Damien looked up at him. "You don't want to know..." he sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "Can you bring me the document I gave you yesterday? I can't find the original," he said. Remy smiled and gave him a salute before leaving for his own office.

The phone on Damien's table rang and he bit his lip before answering. "He's here," Patton said on the other side of the line. "Should I tell him to go or...?"

"Yes. Tell him to come..." he trailed off before hanging up. He frowned. Right on- actually, early. Always early. "Mr. Starlight," he called. "I am going to need your help." He checked the papers one more time and looked up as Remy showed up at the door with the document Damien had asked for. "Take a seat beside me." Remy did as told and took a chair, placing it beside Damien's just as the elevator doors opened. "Follow my lead and don't let him drag you into anything," he warned.

Remy nodded and sat down, looking up at Damien as he stood up.

A man in his mid-forties walked inside the office. He was... intimidating, to say the least. He had black hair and menacing dark brown eyes, nearly black. Remy noticed how Damien seemed to tense up slightly when he shook the man's hand. He wore a suit. His build was that of an athletic man, no more, no less. He was taller than Damien, but not much. Maybe a couple of inches.

"Mr. Steele," Damien started. "Before we begin, would you like some coffee?" he asked. The man, Mr. Steele, shook his head. "Alright. Also, before you ask. I am not going to sell my business." The already threatening aura around Mr. Steele darkened even more as he sat down, glaring at Damien as he did the same.

"And him?" he asked, looking at Remy. "Do you need help to put up with the hard work, Mr. Sanders?" he asked in a mocking tone that made Remy's blood boil, but Damien remained cold and almost emotionless.

Damien glanced at Remy. "Oh? This is a secretary... I should've figured you wouldn't know what it is... only important people in relevant businesses have them," he said. "My apologies. I overestimated your business, Mr. Steele." The tiniest smirk formed on his lips as the man in front of him nearly bared his teeth. Mr. Steele pulled a checkbook out of his suit's inside pocket, writing a number. Damien watched him and scoffed before the man could show them the number. "Please. You can do so much better, Mr. Steele~" he said. "2000 is what I pay Mr. Starlight per week." He glanced at Remy for a second before looking at Mr. Steele again. "You'll have to think harder... that is... if you can," he taunted.

Mr. Steele grumbled, writing down a different number. 10- no. 11 digits. Remy glanced at Damien, slightly worried. "Here, kid. The whole business." He slipped the check to Remy.

Damien put his hand over it before Remy could see it, crumpling the paper. "Hey. Your meeting is with me, not him. You want to buy /my/ business." He hissed. "Don't even look at him." He glanced at Remy before turning to Mr. Steele. "He's only here to make sure you don't try to kill me. We both know you're dying to do so and it's the only way you'll get what's mine."

A smirk formed on Mr. Steele's lips making Damien frown. He had something in mind and it wasn't nice. "Well... I can just take him out of college." He shrugged, leaning back on the chair.

Damien's eyes widened. "No. Leave him out of this. This is between you and me. Not him. Not Mr. Starlight. Not anyone. Us." He hissed. Remy looked at him confused, wondering where that reaction had come from.

"Then you will sell me your business... or his privileges are gone," Mr. Steele threatened darkly, standing up in an attempt to intimidate Damien enough to get his business and wipe him out of the business market.

But Damien wasn't going to back down. He stood up as well. "My business is not for sale. It never will be. And don't think that taking everything from him will work. I am more powerful than you." Remy tensed up at Damien's sudden dark demeanor. "So, here. Take your papers and get out of my building." He growled, handing Mr. Steele the papers.

Mr. Steele glared at him and took the papers from Damien angrily. "This isn't over," he said darkly.

"Oh, I know it isn't, but I'll be ready," Damien said calmly, watching Mr. Steele leave. He gave Remy a little nod for him to make sure he left. Remy nodded and got up, going to the door to check.

Damien bit his lip, coughing softly. His chest hurt like hell... and it wasn't anxiety anymore... The pain was beginning to spread to the back of his neck and shoulders. He wasn't aware of the small wince that escaped his lips until Remy looked at him and frowned, walking over to him.

"Mr. Sanders...? Are you alright?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Damien looked at the door and another cough escaped his lungs. Fuck, that hurt. "Mr. Steele just left... what's wrong?" He looked at Damien, who had tears forming in his eyes. However, they were barely noticeable.

Damien looked at him and shook his head. "I'm fine." The lie slipped so easily and convincing from his lips that Remy almost believed him. And he would've if a second wince hadn't escaped his lips.

"Sir-" Remy started, only to be cut by Damien.

"I'm fine..." he said, sitting down and opening one of the drawers of the table and looking for something.

Remy frowned. He wasn't fine. But he couldn't be harsh. "You should go home, sir." Damien shot him a glare. "You don't have any other meetings today, and I can deal with the work for a day." He gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Damien looked up at him and took half a tablet he had split from two weeks prior and put it under his tongue. He sighed. "Fine... but I need your help." Remy nodded, slightly confused by what that pill was.

"Anything. What do you need?" he asked, looking at him. Damien held his hand up for Remy to help him stand. He could walk on his own, but one, he would look too in pain. And two, he wanted some kind of contact with him. Anything.

"Can you take me to the waiting room?" he asked. "Or help me get there, at least?" Remy nodded and slowly walked him to the waiting area, sitting him down on one of the sofas. Damien gave him a small smile. "Thanks..."

"No worries." Remy sat on a couch, facing him. "What's wrong? What was that pill?" he asked. He wanted to know what was going on, but he didn't want to push Damien too hard.

"Anxiolytic," he simply said... or lied. "Sometimes I get heightened anxiety... these help me out." Remy nodded. "And I'm sorry about the meeting... Mr. Steele and I go a long way back. Never good, though."

"And who was that argument about? You seemed so invested in it," Remy pointed out, looking at him.

Damien's pain began to fade away, but he still didn't move. "His son... or my boyfriend." He sighed. "His son Virgil is in college and Mr. Steele thinks that if he takes that from him, if he stops paying for everything, I'll give in."

Remy frowned, shocked that he was dating that... asshole's son. "oh... but you won't... right?" he asked, almost worried. Damien seemed to love that Virgil so much. Maybe Mr. Steele was right and Damien would give everything up for him.

But Damien shook his head. "No. I have more money than him. I can easily pay for everything Virgil needs and more. I am not giving up this business..." He said, looking around. "This business is my life... all I have. My legacy. I am not giving it up for anything in the world... and if I did at some point, it wouldn't be to him."

Remy smiled lightly. "I like the sound of that..." he trailed off. "Oh, and uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I realized I never got your number," he said.

Damien smiled and blushed lightly. "Oh... you're right..." he said quietly. He gave him his number and got up to grab his things and go home. Maybe ask Virgil to come over as his father was probably not happy.

"And, Mr. Sanders?" Remy called as Damien grabbed his things. Damien walked out of his office and tilted his head. "See you tomorrow." He smiled, noticing Damien's blush faintly before going to his office and get to work.

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