Damien was now consumed with hatred. Why? He was now a successful man, so how come I became the epitome of his revenge? I turned through the pages of the diary to the part that detailed my decision to leave.

I had told my parents a lie, but the true reason I left was written in the diary. It was such a heavy secret that shaped my life.

As I re-read whatever was written in the diary, the truth stared me in the face. I didn't leave Damien because of his education; it was because of something very bad, very dark. I had to protect Damien from it.

My family blackmailed me that if I didn't leave Damien, his life and prospects would be on the line. They didn't merely force me to leave Damien; they made threats.

My mind raced as I closed the diary. To Damien, I was a coward, a spoiled one who chose money over him. But what would it matter if I told him the truth? Would he hate me less after so many years? Or would he just increase the level of cruelty he was so ready to lash out at me?

For now, I have made a decision, however. The secret had to remain as it was - a secret. I needed a plan, and I needed time to execute that plan. Leverage was needed if I wanted to do things the right way.

I had to understand the rules of the game, not just trying to endure Damien's torment. In Damien's world, vulnerability was a target. Damien leveraged on vulnerability so much, he would gladly watch me burn if he saw me in that light.

I had to understand the sort of man that Damien had now become. He was no longer the broken boy I abandoned; he was now a man built like a machine, and that machine emanated resentments. But machines can be manipulated; they have weak points. I was not just going to try to survive; I was going to endure Damien's torment strategically.

I would have to act conveniently. A nurse who just wants to get her job done, that is the facade I will put up while I look for a crack to enter into Damien's world.

I arrived at the mansion the following morning. Again, I tossed aside my customary and fresh medical coat for a mere nurse's gray uniform. It always felt humiliating anytime I had to do that, but I had a mission.

The staff sneered at me each time they saw me in that uniform, but I ignored all of them. I also ignored the fact that the chilling and luxurious hallway was very familiar to me since it used to be my home. I also ignored the fact that I was no longer Dr. Mira, the Landon heiress, but a mere medical technician who knew a few things about medicine, enough to help Mr. Davis.

Mr. Davis was a very difficult man. I monitored him closely and carefully. He was always complaining about one thing or another and used his ailment to demand all sorts of things.

But, there were vulnerabilities about the man that even Damien could not manipulate. From the blood pressure logs to the rhythm of Mr. Davis' heart, and other medical realities, I found solace in them. Mr. Davis' vulnerabilities were physical, something he used the cruelty he projected to mask.

I studied Lisa as well. I noticed that Lisa rarely visited. She only came around when Damien was home, and she had a superficial, nearly non-existent interaction with her father. She was only bothered about the man when Damien was around to observe everything.

Instantly, it became clear as day that Lisa's interest was solely about Rupert Corporation, and her future Mrs. Woods role. Damien's personal development was none of Lisa's business, nor was her father's health her business.

Ask for Damien, I only saw him at the end of the day, just about when my shift ended. With his familiar curiosity, he will stand at the door of the room of Mr. Davis and watch me as I work. Both of us were always silent during those times. Damien won't talk to me, and I will disregard the fact that he is standing there. I always kept a neutral expression upon noticing his presence.

The silent standoff between me and Damien became something like a power struggle. He desperately wanted a reaction from me anytime he stood at that door, but I made sure to give him none. The only weapon I had left against Damien was my composure. So I used it effectively.

For the next two weeks, this was how my life continued. I repeated the same loop every day for two weeks. At home, my parents continued to demand that I seduce and manipulate Damien. It was so draining anytime I had to listen to them. It was such a disaster back at home.

But I made it clear to myself that I will not give myself out cheaply just because I wanted to fix my parents' mess. If I were going to win against Damien, I would have to use my mind and maintain my integrity, the very integrity that my father scoffed at and looked forward to destroying.

The silence in the mansion was eventually shattered one day.

I was rounding up Mr. Davis' treatment for the day when his face suddenly collapsed. His eyes rolled back as he stared blankly at the ceiling, while his frail hand slipped away from the armrest.

I called out with panic in my voice; ''Mr Davis!'' as I instantly recognized the symptoms. Acute stress was what had made the man suddenly grow limp.

His breathing became labored and very shallow, and the monitors all went off, beginning to beep sounds that caused fear to surge through the mansion. When I checked Mr. Davis' blood pressure, I found out that it had skyrocketed to a dangerous level.

Mr. Davis had hypertension, and it was an emergency. He was rapidly descending toward organ failure and not just a mere stroke. My doctor instincts came alive instantly following the training I always knew.

''Quickly, get the first aid kit,'' I ordered two assistant nurses that Damien had hired to watch me and not help me.