Chapter 4: Black Rose Tattoo

“Young master?” Damian laughed, and grimaced again after. “Rich families' heirs are called young masters, isn't it?”

“Yes, young master. It's a way of showing respect to the next heir," He answered while still bowing. The excitement and relief were evident in his tone.

“But I’m not rich. So you can stop bowing now.”

The man obliged, his smile unwavering. Although Damian was denying his wealth, his exuding aura still screams dominance and authority—like his master.

"My name is Leo, and I’m your father’s right-hand man.” Leo helped Damian to stand up. “I and your father have been looking for you for a long time.”

Hearing the word 'father,' Damian was now certain that the man mistook him for someone else, just like Ava. "Thank you for helping me, but I’m not the one you’re looking for. I’m an orphan, and my parents died a long time ago. I don't have a father."

"I know everything is hard to understand now, but you're the one we're looking for, young master Damian Giovanni Smith..." Leo trailed off, remembering something. "I was about to say Ferremento, but Master Veron needs to process your documents first."

Damian's eyes narrowed in confusion. How he could deny it if Leo already mentioned his full name? Aside from that, Carson had the same surname, too. His blood boiled just by thinking about it.

“Follow me, young master. Master Veron wanted to see you. He will explain to you everything."

Damian nodded and followed Leo despite the uncertainty. Leo brought him to black expensive van, and they did a 90-degree angle bow as soon as they saw Damian approaching.

He went on the back seat, while Leo was on the passenger seat. He was also surrounded by different guards from his front, side, and back, but instead of being nervous, he found peace with their presence.

Damian somehow finds this scenario familiar. Some shattered memories were running inside his head again, but he ignored them, knowing that digging into it would give him a headache.

“Let’s go,” Leo instructed the driver to go.

An hour later, the van stopped inside a prestigious mansion. Damian’s eyes were wide open as Leo guided him toward the place. They were in the garden for now, but it looked heavenly. The whole mansion was exuding wealth and luxury.

“Wow,” Damian muttered, amused.

The interior design suited his preferences, and at the same time, the house felt quite nostalgic. It was the same as his dreams recurring lately. A few years ago, he had some dreams that he was a rich and powerful man. 

And at the end of the hallway, an old man's figure was always waiting for him.

“You still can’t remember anything in this place, young master?” Leo asked, his voice laced with sadness. “Master Veron specifically made this garden look like this because of you.”

“What do you mean?” Damian asked, but Leo remained silent.

As Leo opened the front door, a way toward the humongous living room, tons of maids went on both sides of the hallway to make way for Damian. They greeted him as they bowed in unison.

‘It looked exactly like this...'

It was like his dreams were brought back to life. To be precise, his shattered memories were now connecting to each other... Especially as he saw a man walking from the end of the hallway.

“Greetings to Master Veron.” All the people bowed except him.

Veron instructed them to raise their heads, which they immediately obliged. “Leave us alone for a while. Including you, Leo.”

“Yes, young master,” Leo affirmed.

Seconds later, everyone left the place, leaving Damian and Veron in the living room. Damian felt a little bit of awkwardness as Veron stared at him like he was the most expensive diamond in the world.

At the same time, Damian felt like he missed the old man, despite not knowing his identity.

“Damian… Is that you now?” Veron asked, his voice shaking in excitement, as he approached Damian in slow steps. “It’s been a while. I even thought you died…” he added before taking Damian into a warm embrace. “I missed you, my son.”

Damian remained silent, not knowing what to say. However, his hand moved suddenly, lightly tapping Veron’s shoulder. His wounds were painful but he endured it.

"I don't know what to say. I'm sorry..." Damian answered honestly.

"It's okay." Veron let go of the hug. “Although it pains me, I understand that you can’t remember me or your childhood. You have selective amnesia.”

"H-How did you know about that?" Damian's voice trembled, knowing that he hid his illness for a long time. He was afraid that people would pity him or use his illness to their advantage.

“As soon as Leo informed me about, I asked my people to do a background check.” Veron smiled sadly. “You endured so much hardship when I lost you, but I’m here now. No one can hurt you again, my son.”

Damian smiled, but fear and nervousness consumed him afterward. “I like to ask you something."

“Go on, son. What is it?”

“I was an orphan. I've been living with my adoptive parents for as long as I can remember until they died,” Damian explained, remembering how his parents died in a car accident. “How did you make sure that I’m your son? Are you sure you didn’t get the wrong person?”

‘Because if it’s the case, they will toss me in the streets,’ said Damian at the back of his mind. It was the least scenario he could experience. Worse, they would kill him on the spot.

Veron chuckled lightly. Instead of answering, he went to the center table and took the brown envelope on top of it. “Look at this, son."

Damian obliged. He took the envelope and opened it. His eyes widened when he saw what it was.

“A DNA test?” Damian’s brows furrowed, seeing that their DNA test was 99% accurate.

“It’s not the only evidence I have that will prove that you’re my son,” said Veron, smiling, as he went behind Damian. “You have a small tattoo on the upper back, don't you?"

“Yes.” Damian lowered his shirt just enough for Veron to see the skin under his nape. “Here.”

Veron looked at it, expecting to see a black rose tattoo on his son’s back, but his eyes widened when he saw something else… something that shocked and infuriated him at the same time.

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