Lady Elizabeth approached Damián with an almost ethereal calm, her gaze gentle but resolute. Her steps were light yet carried the intention of someone who knew her words needed to reach a heart in conflict. "Not everything happens the way we want, and rarely does perfection come to us without difficulty," she began, her voice filled with understanding and strength. "Sometimes what is wrong ends up becoming right, even if it didn't start that way. Still, there are solutions we can find, even in the most unexpected places."
She paused, the silence between them filled with something deeper, observing him with a mixture of empathy and hope. "It's normal to feel that things don't make sense, or even to disagree and want to forget the past," she said, her eyes locked on Damián's, as if willing her own strength into him. "But choices are never easy, and I know the dilemma is real. Even so, I'm by your side. And maybe, just maybe, you could give him a chance… give both of you a chance to find something beyond the past."
As they walked toward the meeting with Benjamin, Damián's mind was in turmoil, but not because he doubted his actions. He didn't see himself as Benjamin's son; he knew he wasn't, not truly. What he carried was a sense of duty, an unbreakable commitment to Aster, his friend. Damián had never questioned his loyalty to Aster, because, just as he himself was not the real Damián, the Aster beside him was not the original either. They were both survivors of circumstances that had transformed them into something new, and this new bond was all that mattered.
Damián remembered the choices he had made and how the revelations about Aster and himself to General Hunter — about their innocence in the murders and Aster's connection to Jared Phillips — had forced him to act. He had to lie, assume a story that wasn't his, and all for Aster. There was no doubt or regret in his mind; there was only the resolve to protect his friend, not because it was easy, but because it was the right thing to do. Benjamin, he thought with a touch of bitterness, was indeed a victim, but that didn't lessen his own responsibility. Damián had taken on the burden to protect Aster, and he would never allow that to be questioned.
Memories of hard times surfaced like shadows. Damián had been in a dark place before, lost and directionless. It was a time he preferred to forget, but he knew those scars were a part of him. Success also came with its own traps, the hollow echo of voices proclaiming him to be the best, a belief that nearly caused him to lose himself. But now, as he walked toward Benjamin, he knew what mattered was the truth of his actions, the duty he had chosen, and the promise he had made to protect Aster.
Benjamin sat alone in a small library; his fingers clasped tightly as memories pulled him back to one of the darkest moments of his life. He vividly remembered the morning it all began, when he realized his son was missing. He had arrived at the school at dawn, after a sleepless night, and though the sun was already lighting the sky, his world was steeped in darkness.
His son, La-Heri, was only eight years old. A child. An innocent child now lost in a merciless world. Benjamin knew the authorities were searching, but he couldn't just wait. He had to do something, anything. He wandered aimlessly for days, searching every corner, asking for clues, even when exhaustion blurred his mind. For seven days, he didn't eat, didn't sleep, didn't shower. He had only one mission: to find his son.
It was Hunter, his old friend, who found him. Hunter brought him back to reality with a mix of concern and authority. "Ben, you need to take care of yourself," Hunter had said, his voice heavy with the despair of seeing his friend so broken. Benjamin barely remembered being taken to bathe. He didn't know how, but he ate something and then fell into a deep sleep. For years, he believed Hunter or someone else had slipped a sedative into his food because he had been on the brink of madness.
When Benjamin finally awoke, a psychologist was by his side. The man spoke softly, trying to bring Benjamin back to the present, reminding him that he had another son, Andrews, who also needed him. That realization hit like a sudden blow. He had been so consumed by grief that, for one brief and terrible moment, he had forgotten he had another son relying on him.
Time passed, but the pain didn't lessen. Benjamin returned home, but La-Heri's absence lingered in every corner. He kept searching, persistently, desperately, wherever there might be even a small chance. Once, while driving, he saw a boy who looked like his son. His heart almost stopped, and he jumped out of the car, shouting, running toward the child, only to realize it wasn't La-Heri. The disappointment felt like a black hole, pulling him deeper into his grief.
Days later, he got a call from the morgue. There was a child there who resembled his son. He went, fear gnawing at his insides, each step heavier than the last. When they pulled out the drawer, the first thing he saw was the hair. The same hair as La-Heri's. Benjamin almost collapsed, courage leaving him at that moment. "Wait…" he whispered, trying to process the horror.
"Is it your son?" the attendant asked, the voice sharp like a knife. Benjamin, eyes fixed on the boy's hair, replied in a thread of a voice, "By the hair, it seems so…" He sat, feeling utterly drained. But then, slowly, the attendant revealed the rest of the body, and Benjamin saw it wasn't his son. The relief was overwhelming, but only for a second, before the pain flooded back. He knew this nightmare was far from over.
For a time, the morgue became a place he often visited, each time they had a child who resembled his son. And then there were the false leads, people swearing they had seen La-Heri with strangers or in impossible places. After two years of living in that cycle of pain and crushed hope, Benjamin made a decision. He withdrew all public searches for La-Heri, making them private. He couldn't bear any more false hope; the pain of believing and being disappointed over and over was too much. But even then, he never stopped searching.
Now, in that silent room, Benjamin waited for his son once again. The memories still haunted him, the weight of his loss still suffocating. But there was also a spark of hope, a yearning that perhaps, finally, his search would end. What he didn't know was how this reunion would affect him, how the truth would still be hard to face, even after all those years.
The separate room was a small, cozy library, with tall shelves filled with books that seemed to hold secrets from the past. The late afternoon light streamed through the high windows, creating an atmosphere that oscillated between serenity and latent tension. Damián stood there, beside a worn leather armchair, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew this moment would be like facing a storm — a storm of emotions he wasn't sure he was ready to endure.
The door creaked softly as it opened, and Benjamin stepped in, hesitant. For a moment, he froze, as if time had stopped around him. His eyes met Damián's, and the explosion of feelings was immediate, a wave that nearly brought him to his knees. He saw the son he had lost but also a different man, a familiar stranger, someone who carried the weight of a life Benjamin didn't know.
The shock on Benjamin's face quickly turned into a mix of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He took a step forward, his breath catching, tears welling up in his eyes. "La-Heri…" he whispered, as if the name were sacred, as if saying it would break a curse that had held him prisoner for years. But then he paused, unsure, as if the next step were the hardest of his life.
Damián, though a man hardened by life's circumstances, couldn't stop something inside him from breaking at the sight of Benjamin's vulnerability. In front of him was a father who had found his lost son, bearing the marks of a grief he had never overcome. Despite the coldness Damián thought he should feel toward Benjamin, the sight of the man's tears completely disarmed him, bringing forth an emotion he could no longer suppress.
Damián watched the tears fill Benjamin's eyes, seeing a man who seemed to have lost everything, only to find something he never thought he could regain. Benjamin moved forward slowly, each step filled with a desperate desire to touch, to confirm that this was real. When the emotions became too much to bear, a deep, helpless sob escaped him, echoing through the room like a lament from a place of irreparable sorrow.
"My God, La-Heri… forgive me," Benjamin pleaded, his voice broken, full of regret. "For everything. For every moment I wasn't there, for every mistake, for losing you…" He fell to his knees in front of Damián, his body trembling under the weight of years of guilt and suffering. Tears streamed freely down his face as he reached out a trembling hand, not to demand, but to beg for a chance at redemption. "I know I was a terrible father… I failed… I lost you… and I can't change the past, but if I could… Furthermore, I'd do anything to have you back."
Damián closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control the storm of emotions swirling inside him. What he felt was different from Benjamin's: a persistent emptiness, a chasm of identities separating him from the life his father still longed to recover. He knew he wasn't the Damián Benjamin expected, but seeing the raw pain and suffering on the face of the man before him, he couldn't help but be moved.
With a serene but restrained expression, Damián knelt beside Benjamin, holding his trembling hands with careful firmness. Tears slid slowly down his face, but he kept his composure. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice calm, almost a whisper of understanding. "You're not to blame. I… made mistakes, too. I got lost in my own decisions."
The silence that settled between them was far from desolate. It was a moment filled with restrained emotion, where mutual acceptance and imperfect love began to take shape. Finally, Benjamin pulled Damián into a hug, crying under the weight of all the years of suffering. Damián returned the gesture, not letting himself be completely swept away by the emotion, but allowing himself to feel the warmth of a bond that, no matter how complicated, still had meaning.
The storm of emotions surrounding them didn't heal them, didn't undo the mistakes of the past, but at that moment, they both felt the beginning of something new — a possibility of redemption, even if uncertain, and a sense that the path forward, though difficult, could still be walked together.
Damián watched as tears welled up in Benjamin's eyes, seeing the face of a man who seemed to have lost everything, only to find something he never thought he could recover. Benjamin moved forward slowly, each step laden with a desperate desire to touch, to confirm that it was real. When his emotions became unbearable, a deep, helpless sob escaped him, echoing through the room like a lament from a place of irreparable sorrow.
Damián closed his eyes for a moment, trying to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. What he felt was different from Benjamin: a persistent emptiness, a chasm of identities that separated him from the life his father still longed to reclaim. He knew he wasn't the Damián that Benjamin had hoped to find, but seeing the raw suffering and pain on the face of the man before him, he couldn't help but be moved.
With a veiled expression of serenity, Damián knelt beside Benjamin, holding his trembling hands with careful firmness. Tears slid slowly down his face, but he maintained his composure. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice calm, almost a whisper of understanding. "You're not to blame. I… made mistakes too. I got lost in my own decisions."
The silence that fell between them was far from desolate. It was a moment of contained emotions, where mutual acceptance and imperfect love began to take shape. Finally, Benjamin pulled Damián into a hug, crying with the weight of all the years of suffering. Damián returned the embrace, not letting himself be fully swept away by emotion, but allowing himself to feel the warmth of a bond that, no matter how complicated, still held meaning.
The scene in the small library finally dissolved into a lighter silence, still laden with unspoken emotions, but with a sense that an important first step had been taken. As Damián and Benjamin emerged from the room together, their faces still bore traces of recent tears, but there was something different in the way they walked, side by side. It was as if, despite the still-open wounds, there was a willingness to try to understand each other again.
*Hunter, Malcolm, and Elizabeth* were gathered in a corner of the adjacent hall, their expressions tense and serious, speaking quietly about the implications of everything that was happening. Hunter, ever watchful, was the first to notice Damián and Benjamin leaving the library, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Malcolm offered a diplomatic smile, but his eyes were heavy with concern, while Elizabeth maintained an expression of calculated calm.
*Elizabeth* was the first to break the silence. "So… how did it go?" she asked in a gentle voice, though there was a clear undercurrent of tension.
Damián glanced at Benjamin beside him, noting the nervousness on his face. He knew this was just the beginning of a long process. "We're… getting to know each other," Damián replied, his tone a mix of caution and honesty.
Benjamin nodded, his gaze still adjusting to the new reality. "Yes, there's a lot I need to learn," he admitted, his voice hesitant. "About the man my son has become… and about the name he now carries." He paused, looking at Damián with a mix of confusion and acceptance. "Damián," he repeated, as if getting used to the new identity.
At that moment, Mason appeared from a nearby corridor. His presence brought a fresh energy to the room, a mixture of curiosity and mild wariness. He noticed the tension in the air, but his concern was clearly focused on Damián. "Is everything okay here?" Mason asked, his tone light but his eyes scanning Damián's face for any sign of discomfort.
Damián stepped forward, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he made the introductions. "Mason," he said, his voice warming. "This is Benjamin Williams… my father." He paused, feeling the weight of the word, before adding, "Benjamin, this is Mason, my friend."
Mason, already aware of the complex truth surrounding Damián and Benjamin, was momentarily taken aback to hear Damián introduce Benjamin as "father." But instead of feeling any shadow of envy, a touch of humor crossed his mind. *Wow*, Mason thought, *a powerful father, an incredible alpha like Adam, an adorably regal mother-in-law like Elizabeth, and, of course, a fortune. Lucky guy. And here I am, with nothing but my charm and wit to save me. *
He tried to suppress a laugh, and while still pondering the oddity of the situation, he extended his hand with a friendly smile to Benjamin. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Williams," Mason said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, as if he were about to crack a joke to ease the tension.
The storm of emotions surrounding them didn't heal them, didn't undo the past mistakes, but at that moment, they both felt a beginning — a possibility of redemption, however uncertain, and a sense that the road ahead, though difficult, could still be walked together.