Damien’s footsteps echoed through the marble hallway as he entered the gate of his family’s mansion. The sprawling estate, nestled in the heart of the city, was a symbol of their wealth and status. High ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and priceless artwork adorned the walls, but to Damien, it was all just... ordinary.

He tossed his backpack onto the plush couch and made his way to the dining room, where his mother was seated, flipping through a glossy magazine. She glanced up briefly, offering a half-hearted smile.

“School went well, I assume?” she asked, though her attention quickly returned to the magazine.
“As usual,” Damien replied, sliding into a chair. He knew she wasn’t really interested. She never was. To her, as long as the family name remained spotless, nothing else mattered.

Before he could settle in, the stern voice of his father called from his office, “Damien, I need a word.”

Damien felt a twinge of annoyance but quickly masked it. His father’s demands were not to be ignored. Rising from the table, he made his way to the office, the heavy wooden door looming in front of him.

Inside, his father sat behind an imposing desk, papers scattered around him. His tailored suit and sharp gaze exuded authority, the kind Damien had grown accustomed to seeing at home.

“Sit,” his father ordered, not looking up from his paperwork.

Damien did as he was told, sinking into the leather chair opposite his father. The room smelled of rich wood and old books, a space where deals were made and power was maintained.

“School’s started again,” his father began, still not meeting Damien’s eyes. “I trust you’ll continue to keep things under control there?”

Damien nodded, though he knew his father wasn’t really asking. His father expected dominance—academically, socially, and in every other way that mattered. The Rook name wasn’t just known for wealth. It was known for power.

“I don’t want to hear about any trouble this year,” his father continued, finally looking up. “I’ve cleaned up after you enough. You need to start taking some responsibility for how you conduct yourself. The world’s watching.”

Damien felt a knot tighten in his stomach. His father had always been like this—calculating, distant. He’d shielded Damien from the consequences of his actions, but only because it suited him. Their family reputation was everything.

“I won’t embarrass the family,” Damien said confidently, his tone practiced and familiar.

His father leaned back in his chair, studying him for a moment. “Good. Because if you do, I’ll make sure you feel it. And not just by grounding you.” His voice was calm, but the underlying threat was clear.

For a moment, Damien felt a surge of resentment. He was the king of his school, feared and respected by his peers, but here... under this roof, he was just another pawn in his father’s game.

Without another word, his father dismissed him, and Damien left the office, the door clicking shut behind him. As he walked back to the dining room, he passed by his mother, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Your father’s just worried about the business,” she said absentmindedly, not even looking up this time. “You know how he is.”

Damien nodded, though the words felt hollow. This wasn’t worry. This was control.

At dinner, the conversation circled around upcoming business deals and social gatherings. His parents discussed charity events, investments, and the latest gossip among their wealthy peers. Not once did they ask about Damien’s day, his thoughts, or his feelings.

It was always like this—surface-level conversations that masked the true emptiness beneath. And yet, this was the life Damien had grown to accept. Here, power wasn’t earned; it was inherited. And Damien had taken that lesson to heart.

Later that night, as he lay in his king-sized bed, Damien’s phone buzzed. A message from Jake.

"Same spot tomorrow. Got something fun planned."

A smirk crossed Damien’s face as he read the message. His doubts, fleeting as they were, faded into the background. At school, he had control. At school, he mattered.

And nothing—no one—could take that from him.