Chapter 336: My Boyfriend Is Basically a Celebrity, My Condolences to Me.

The fuck...?

"Mr. Lockwood, Mr. Lockwood! Can you say something about the merger that’s coming up?!"

"Mr. Lockwood, is it true you’re back to manage the new division yourself?!"

"Mr. Lockwood, are you planning to announce an engagement this year?!"

I halted in my tracks and another bright flash from a camera, followed by a voice shouting about Damien’s relationship status. I was torn...should I wave, run away, or just stand there like a statue? Someone yelled at me.

"Sir...Sir, what’s your name?! Are you with Mr. Lockwood as his business partner?"

My head whipped around to the reporter. Oh...I was his partner alright, but not for business though.

Without thinking, I slipped behind Damien, gripping the back of his coat while he walked on with the steady calm of someone used to this sort of thing, clearly treating it as a minor inconvenience instead of a full-on crisis while hiding my face from the camera.

"Keep moving," he murmured, his hand gently on my back.

Damien discreetly signaled to his security team, who quickly formed a protective wall around us, guiding us toward the waiting limo.

The reporters kept shouting, asking about Damien’s business and curious about the mysterious man accompanying him, but he stayed totally unfazed.

His expression only shifted when a reporter stepped up, demanding to know if I was just a temporary friend or someone he planned to introduce to the public.

"Mr. Reyes is with me," Damien said coolly, his hand settling firmly on my waist. "That’s all you need to know for now."

The tone was polite enough, but the message was clear. I found myself staring at him for a moment before remembering we were surrounded by people who would likely capture me blinking if it meant selling a paper.

We reached the limo without any more drama, and the minute the door shut behind us, the noise vanished, leaving me slumped against the leather seat like a man who just survived a pointless natural disaster.

Damien looked at me and I looked back at him, then he chuckled.

"You think this is funny, asshole?" I shot back.

"Your expression was quite something."

"I thought I was going to die! Why are they so many? What are you, Michael Jackson?"

"You were just walking through an airport..."

"An airport where people were screaming your name and taking pictures of me like I was some newly discovered bug species!"

He reached for my hand, still grinning. "You’ll have to get used to it."

"Not a damn chance."

"Oliver."

"No fucking way, Damien. I have many great qualities, but getting comfy with strangers shouting questions about my private life while blinding me with cameras isn’t one of them."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping until his lips brushed my ear making me shiver. "Guess you’ll just have to stay in my home twenty-four seven so I can have you all to myself."

I instinctively pushed his face away. "Absolutely not."

His laughter filled the limo as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer, clearly unbothered by my attempt to cling to the last bits of my dignity.

"You say that now," he said softly.

"Because I have a career, friends, and an independent personality."

"I would never dream of taking those things away from you."

"Good, because I won’t become a decorative penthouse ornament."

"Would you rather be an expensive decorative penthouse ornament for my bed instead?"

I just stared at him and he smiled.

I pushed his shoulder, but when he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my cheek, my irritation started to fade. I turned to give him another scathing comment, but his face was so close my words evaporated before I could get them out.

Instead, I kissed him.

It was quick and warm, a small moment of connection that felt wonderfully private after the chaos outside. When I pulled away, Damien brushed his thumb over my cheek.

"Welcome to New Havenport, Sunshine."

I glanced at the tinted window. "This city is so big, cool and terrifying."

"Our city," he corrected.

I paused, something about that distinction tightening my chest in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

Our city.

Maybe I’d get used to hearing that.

The drive through New Havenport felt like a glimpse into a whole different world outside the limo windows.

Tall buildings reached up into the night sky, their lit windows forming huge patterns of gold and white. Traffic rolled through the streets with streams of headlights and taillights. Restaurants and cafes glowed beneath fancy signs, crowds moved along the sidewalks, and enormous digital displays advertised luxury watches, pricey cars, and perfume campaigns featuring people who looked like they’d never had to deal with the embarrassment of finding a hole in their favorite socks.

I leaned closer to the window, taking in the sparkling skyline with a mix of admiration and disbelief.

"That watch ad could probably pay my rent for years," I said.

Damien followed my gaze. "Want one?"

"No."

"You didn’t even ask how much it costs."

"Because I have self-respect."

"You still wear the necklace I got you."

My fingers instinctively went to the chain resting against my chest. When I looked at him, his expression had softened.

The necklace had been with me through the years when I thought he’d never come back. It reminded me of something I’d lost but couldn’t part with.

Now, sitting next to him while the city rushed by outside, it felt different...less like a sore spot and more like a quiet connection between the me I used to be and who I was becoming.

Damien squeezed my hand, and I leaned against his shoulder as the limo rolled through the streets.

I was anxious about living here, navigating the city, and getting used to the noise and chaos that seemed to never let up. There would be tough days ahead, and I figured I’d miss the quiet streets of Crestview Bay enough to think about moving back.

But under all that uncertainty, a small thrill was growing inside me.

When the limo finally pulled into the driveway of a towering residential building, I peered out the window and watched the lit upper floors fade into the night.

"Please tell me this isn’t where we’re staying," I said.

Damien shot me an amused look. "Why wouldn’t it be?"

"Because I was hoping for something a little bit modest, maybe an apartment with a reasonable amount of windows and a kitchen where I could reach the cupboards without needing a personal assistant."

"You’ll be disappointed."

"I figured as much."

The penthouse took up the top floors of the building, and the private elevator opened right into an entrance that made me feel like I’d accidentally walked into a luxury hotel.

Beyond the door, the living area stretched towards enormous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Warm lighting illuminated the pale stone floors and dark wood accents, with furniture that looked pricey without being too fragile to use.

A broad cream-colored sofa curved around a low table, while comfy armchairs sat near the windows, creating an atmosphere that invited relaxation instead of just showcasing the price tag.

I stepped further inside, taking in the place in quiet awe.

The city sparkled beyond the glass, its lights stretching far into the horizon, and for a moment, I could hardly believe this was a real home and not just an overly ambitious architectural display.

Damien stood beside me, watching my reaction.

"Well?" he asked.