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The sound of cutlery clinking filled the room again after Damian's words.
Leonid stared at him, his jaw tight, his eyes burning with anger.
"You think you're untouchable because your running the company now?" Leonid said harshly.
"You're running the company like it's your toy. I know profits are falling, deals are delayed. You're making a mockery of our family's legacy."
Damian didn't even look up from his plate.
"Last I checked, the board still answers to me, not to my bitter little uncle who never got the seat he wanted."
Adrian's smirk returned.
"I see, Damian might be arrogant, but he knows how to keep things hidden. Especially his other business… the one his—"
Before Adrian could finish, Damian's hand slammed hard on the table.
The sound made Elena flinch beside him, her fork falling from her hand.
"Watch your tongue, Adrian," Damian said, his voice low and deadly. "Or I'll take it off permanently."
Adrian stared back but couldn't find his voice. The room fell silent.
"Enough!" Grandfather's voice cut through the air, strong despite his age. His eyes moved between them.
"This family has had enough of your ego battles. This is not the place."
Damian slowly rose from his chair, his expression unreadable.
"No, Grandfather," he said quietly, coldly. "But I think your son and his son have a death wish."
The silence after his words was heavy. Without glancing at anyone — not even Elena — Damian turned and walked out of the dining room.
Elena's chest tightened as she watched him leave, her heart pounding.
The room stayed quiet for a long moment before Irina finally sighed.
Irina slowly turned toward Adrian, her calm mask finally cracking.
"How dare you speak about Damian like that in this house?" she said sharply, her voice trembling with both anger and disappointment.
"He may be cold, but at least he built everything he has with his own hands. Unlike you, Adrian — living off your father's name."
Adrian shifted in his seat, his smirk fading.
"I was only saying the truth, Aunt Irina. Maybe if Damian wasn't too busy pretending to be untouchable, your family wouldn't—"
"Enough!" Irina's tone rose, her eyes flashing. "Don't you dare talk about my family like you understand anything!"
Leonid leaned back in his chair with a chuckle that didn't reach his eyes.
"You're defending him just because he reminds you of your husband — my brother"
Irina's face went pale. "Don't you bring him into this, Leonid " she warned softly.
Leonid continued, voice hardening. "He was older, yes, but he was weak.
Just like your precious Damian. Always acting strong but breaking everything he touches. That boy will ruin this family like his father did."
The room went deathly still.
Grandfather slammed his cane on the floor. "That's enough!" His voice was deep and furious, his usual calm gone. "Both of you — my study, now!"
Leonid froze mid-breath, his face tightening. Adrian muttered under his breath but obeyed.
Irina stood too, her eyes glossy with restrained tears.
"You will regret speaking of my husband that way," she said quietly to Leonid before turning to leave. Her hands trembled slightly as she brushed past Elena.
Tatiana quickly rose and followed her aunt, throwing a glare at Adrian on the way out.
When the doors closed behind them, the dining room fell completely silent again.
Elena sat alone at the long table, her eyes fixed on the untouched breakfast in front of her.
She could still hear Damian's voice echoing in her head — the anger, the hurt, the weight behind every word he'd said.
Hours later, the mansion had grown quiet again. The loud voices from the dining hall were gone, but the air still felt heavy.
Elena walked through the hallway, her thoughts far away.
The scene from dinner kept replaying in her mind — Damian's cold eyes, the anger in his voice, the way he walked away without looking back.
The door to Irina's room opened softly, pulling Elena back. Tatiana stepped out, closing it gently behind her. She looked tired but tried to smile.
"How is she?" Elena asked, standing quickly.
"She's fine," Tatiana said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Just a little upset. That's just how she gets when things like this happen."
Elena frowned, following her to the couch. "Things like what?"
Tatiana sighed and sat down. "Every time Adrian and Leonid come here, something always happens. Arguments, tension… old wounds. I hate it."
Elena sat beside her, her voice soft. "Why do they hate Damian so much? What happened to his father?"
Tatiana went quiet for a moment. She looked toward Irina's closed door, then back at Elena.
"It's… not my place to tell you that," she said finally. "Some things in this family run deep. It's better you hear it from Damian himself — if he ever decides to tell you."
Elena's heart sank a little. She wanted to understand Damian more — the man behind all that anger, the pain in his eyes when his family talked about him.
Before she could say another word, the butler approached them with a polite bow. "Miss Elena," he said, "your driver is here. Mr. Damian sent him to take you home."
Elena stood, nodding. She turned to Tatiana and hugged her tightly before leaving
following the butler outside.
As the car door closed and they drove off.
Elena stepped out of the car as soon as it stopped in front of the mansion, her eyes scanning the wide entrance as though she might catch a glimpse of him.
"Is Damian back?" she asked quickly, her voice carrying both worry and a hint of irritation.
The butler nodded respectfully. "Yes, Miss Elena. The master is in the mansion… but I'm not sure exactly where."
"Alright," she said, already moving before he could say more.
Her heels echoed against the marble floor as she walked through the massive halls. She checked the study first — empty. His office — empty. His room — untouched.
Her steps slowed, her breath soft and restless.
"How does he even live in such a big mansion?" she muttered under her breath, brushing her hair back.
Then, as if the house itself answered her question, a door she'd never noticed before creaked open down the hall.
She turned sharply and froze when she saw him — Damian — standing there, tall, cold-eyed, dressed in black.
"What are you doing here?" his deep voice cut through the silence, calm but sharp.
Without thinking, she walked straight to him and wrapped her arms around him — not tightly, but enough to feel his warmth.
Damian didn't hug her back. His body stayed rigid.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked quietly, his tone unreadable.
"I've searched the whole mansion for you," she said, her voice almost trembling. "I'm so tired already."
He looked down at her, his expression softening for just a second before hardening again.
"Move away, Elena," he said firmly and she unwrapped her arms from his body.
"And remember… this part of the mansion is restricted."
Then, without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked away, disappearing down the corridor.