webnovel

Love from the ashes

Love, Betrayal, Blood, but not Hatred. Only cold revenge, and a son to complete the family. "D" Section, a nonexistent military unit. "D" for dark, "D" for depth, "D"... for death. It demanded no attachment, and Daemon sacrificed love for it. Years later, the death of his teammates made him feel that he had done enough for the country, so he came back to the city he grew in. But can what has been forsaken be gained back? Because now Evelyn, the one to have breathed vitality in his numb, orphaned heart, had her own life, and a little boy calling her mother. Also, while he left his life full of dead bodies behind, did that life really let him go? From the ashes, will it love or... ? _ _ _ Two lovers who still love each other even with scars left behind by past events. They narrowly miss a chance to meet again and rekindle the lost spark, with him left with an empty heart, and her with her pain renewed, only buried because of the sun of her life, her son, their son… that he knew nothing about. They each continue with their own life in their own way. Their paths even almost become parallel to each other, almost taking the opposite direction with new commitments. But fate be damned, even if it now seems to push them toward each other. From the ashes, their love shall blaze anew. Or maybe not. Find the answer yourself. ___ First draft of characters image on my discord, a channel for fans to get together: https://discord.com/invite/C86EJvCJdd Comment and review, don't forget.

LifeDayDreams · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
276 Chs

027 - From the ashes

*Ding-dong*

*Crack*

"I knew you would not use the code to open the door. Come in."

Cynthia turned away and went back inside. That casual behavior made Daemon produce a small smile on his lips.

He looked at the smooth skin of the legs revealed beneath the short bathrobe, then at the hair covered with a towel.

She pointed at a door to the side and spoke without turning around:

"The clothes I prepared for you are in the guestroom. I doubt it, but if you have yet to take a shower, there is a bathroom there too. I will be getting myself ready."

He watched her disappear behind the door of her bedroom and understood the unspoken message: "Make yourself home."

It was soothing, the way those little gestures could be comfortable. That made him remember the kiss she stole from him when she had been drunk.

He shook his head and went to the guest room. But what he saw there made him exhale a sigh. Cynthia was being straightforward, not hiding her intention, and she was going all out in her approach.

_ _ _

_ _ _

A few minutes before 9 PM, Cynthia's sports car slowed to a stop before one of the best hotels in the city. The door on the driver side opened, and a shiny male leather shoe touched the ground.

With that foot as support, a male got out of the car. His height was above average, and his physique was lean, not too much on either side of the spectrum. With his dark hair, and eyes of the same color, only the bandage he had on the cheek was getting in the way of his appearance. And despite that, his appearance remained high up the scale.

He looked around, as he buttoned his high quality smoking. His cufflinks were silver in color, and they might even be in composition. He seemed old school, without a watch on his wrist.

With his back straight, he went around the car, giving the key to the valet in passing.

He opened the passenger side door, and held the slim hand that was raised.

The first to appear was a foot protected by a shiny red high-heel shoe. The latter preceded and highlighted the beautiful slim leg the foot belonged to.

With the man's support, the owner of the hand left the car, her red sheath dress and blond hair harmonizing together to bring out more of her beauty.

She smiled and linked her arm to the man. With him leading the way, they went inside the hotel, the intermittent view of the long leg exposed by the long slit at the side of the robe making the attention of many around waver.

They took the elevator. Once Cynthia pressed the button for their destination, she used free hand to adjust the bowtie Daemon was wearing. After wiping some imaginary dust on his collar, she looked at his wrist and asked:

"Did you not like the watch that was with the clothes?"

Among what she had placed in the guestroom for him, there had been a luxurious watch. It had been masculine, also silver in color like the cufflinks, with a domineering vibe like Daemon's.

"It's not bad."

She smiled, since he didn't dislike it. Nor was he obviously rejecting her advances.

"Oh. Then you must take it with you when we go back."

Just she finished adjusting his clothes…

*Ping*

The sound of the elevator interrupted them. They stepped outside, and as Cynthia exchanged greetings and smiles with the acquaintances on the way, they entered the hall where the party was being held.

Everyone inside was dressed to show their best side. The women were like stars trying to outshine each other, while the men were doing their best to not let any shortcoming show.

Greetings flew around, with a few gatherings exchanging juicy news, held not only by women, but also by men. Cynthia was like a fish in the water, having attracted attention since they arrived, her smile never leaving her face, and she herself never leaving Daemon's side.

Sensing Daemon's lack of interest, she didn't try to introduce her colleagues or acquaintances to him. She instead pulled him to a side with fewer people as soon as she got a bit of respite.

Cynthia, still not letting go of his arm, remarked:

"This must be different from your time in the services."

He ignored the soft place his arm was making contact with when Cynthia shortened the distance between them.

"A bit."

"Then I-"

"Cynthia, you are here. Were you trying to hide?"

The interruption stunned Cynthia. Was it not basic etiquette to let a couple who had isolated itself have their own space?

She turned to the man that just spoke, and only hid part of her displeasure:

"Michael, you managed to find me. I didn't know you came."

It was the same Michael Green who had spoiled her mood the previous time in the nightclub. Their families were friends, but avoiding him like a pest seemed to not work. How could he not understand that she was not interested in him?

Michael took the sarcasm in stride and ignored it.

"I have to come. My father will not be here tonight, so as his successor, anyone but me can be absent. Won't you introduce your friend to me?"

If only they hadn't been in a public setting? But Cynthia could only lock away at the back of her mind the rude reactions she would have liked to show. The setting forced her to observe etiquette, and strictly speaking, Michael was her superior.

"Daemon, this is Michael, a colleague of mine…"

"Come on, Cynthia. You don't have to be so terse. You forgot to add too many things." Turning toward Daemon, Michael held a hand toward him: "Hi, I'm Michael Green, a childhood friend of Cynthia. I don't know if she's told you, but our families are friends. I'm the heir of Green Industries where she is working. She never told me about you, how did you meet? What do you do for a living?"

Daemon looked at the hand in front of him. To translate the introduction, he, Michael Green, was the pavilion closest to the water, so the moon's reflection was his to enjoy. His family was rich, and he didn't believe Daemon was better than him.

Daemon raised his hand, and took a glass of champagne from the tray of a waiter that was passing by. He ignored Michael and gave it to Cynthia:

"Here."

She smile like a beautiful flower blooming under the rays of the sun:

"Thanks, dear."

Michael maintained his smile like a gentleman. But his heart was twisting as he looked at the scene before him, and his eyes were struggling to hide the fire they were holding inside.

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