Chapter 2 Through The Glass Wall

Damien’s POV

Mexico has a rhythm I don’t yet understand. The air feels heavier here, the sun harsher, the streets louder. But business… real business, is about seeing through all that noise.

This is my fifth day here, and I’m already bored. But I’m determined to finish what brought me. The deal with Javier Leonardo either goes well, or my mom will scold me for incompetence.

She sent me here as my first overseas business assignment, before I take over my late father’s company. She’s been carrying it since he died, but she says she’s getting too old, that she needs to retire for her own wellbeing.

“You remind me of your father, Mr. Harrington,” Javier says, dragging me back from my thoughts. “Sharp eyes. Quiet, but calculating.” His fat fingers wrap around a glass of red wine as he leans back with a smile. His accent is thick, his tone oily. “I can see why your mother sent you here.”

I force a polite smile. “She wants me to understand the business fully before I take over.”

He laughs, loud and rough. “And when will that be? Why not now, so we can strike better deals together?”

Nicholas, seated beside me, shifts uncomfortably. He’s the son of Diaz, our estate manager. Mom told him not to interfere, only to observe, but I can tell he’s restless. We’ve been here for hours and haven’t finalized anything.

I keep my tone steady. “She believes knowledge is power.”

Javier slaps the table. “And money is freedom.” His gold watch catches the light as he laughs again. “With the right deals, you can have both.”

I nod when necessary, though my mind is on the numbers… the supply contracts, the fine print. Leonardo Biotech Group is a pharmaceutical distributor, but everyone knows that isn’t the whole truth. Not in Mexico.

Javier seems to be prolonging things on purpose, and my eyes wander. That’s when I see her.

Through the tall glass wall that separates the restaurant from the street outside, a girl comes out of a café.

Dark hair. Smooth stride. The sunlight frames her face like a halo.

She doesn’t look like the women who linger around here… no flashy jewelry, no heavy makeup. She’s simple.

She moves toward a sleek black sedan. The driver opens the door.

Her gaze flicks toward the restaurant just long enough for our eyes to meet. And in that instant, something primal stirs in me… curiosity, hunger, the need to know her.

She slips into the sedan gracefully, almost like a shadow.

My heart kicks hard before settling into a strange rhythm.

The car drives off.

“Mr. Harrington,” Javier’s voice cuts through my haze. “You seem distracted.”

I blink, realizing I’ve been staring. “Just thinking about the terms we discussed.”

Javier smirks knowingly. “No, no. I saw where your eyes went.” He chuckles, swirling his wine. “Beautiful, isn’t she? Seraphina Caldwell. Everyone knows her.”

My jaw tightens. “Who is she?”

He leans closer, lowering his voice but still loud enough for nearby tables. “Her father works for Ricardo Delgado Mendoza. Ricardo’s private pilot. Trusted, rich by association. That girl grew up like royalty because of it.”

Nicholas frowns but stays silent. He knows his role.

Javier points a thick finger at me. “Dangerous girl, Mr. Harrington. Not because of who she is, but because of who she belongs to. Touch her, and Ricardo’s men will find you. And believe me, you don’t want that.”

I sip my drink, keeping my expression neutral. Inside, though, heat coils low in my chest.

“I wasn’t thinking of touching her,” I say flatly.

Javier roars with laughter. “Of course not! You’re a businessman. Not a fool.” He raises his glass again. “Now, back to the deal…”

The rest of the evening blurs. Numbers, percentages, routes. None of it sticks. All I see is her… her walk, her eyes, the way she looked at me.

When the deal is finalized, I step out into the cool evening air. Nicholas follows, still silent.

Back at the hotel, I loosen my tie and check my phone. Three missed calls from Mom. I ignore them. She will want a report, she will remind me emotions have no place in business.

But for the first time in a while, business doesn’t feel like enough.

I pour a glass of scotch and stand by the window, watching Monte Azul’s lights flicker across the skyline. Somewhere out there, she’s probably lying on her bed, unaware of the storm she left in me.

A voice in my head says I’m being reckless. Foolish. That she’s just a stranger. But another voice whispers louder: you can’t leave without finding her again.

And I already know which voice I’m listening to.

I close my eyes and breathe her name, tasting it like a secret.

“Seraphina.”