Silent Dreams Never Die — Author: John Miller 368
Chapter 368 A Confrontation of Rivals
Sabrina, hearing him, gave a quick nod. “Okay.”
From across the room, Scarlett watched the entire interaction unfold.
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In her five years of marriage to Vincent, she had never once imagined he could be capable of such minute, considerate attention.
She used to believe his coldness toward her was just part of his nature, or a reflection of his position.
But now, seeing it all clearly, she understood it had never been about that–it was simply that he hadn’t loved her.
As Vincent stepped out of the private room, Damian–who had just returned to the lounge area and settled onto the sofa moments earlier–spotted him immediately.
Their eyes met briefly, but neither man spoke.
Damian leaned back, picked up his coffee cup, and took a slow, deliberate sip.
Vincent stood a short distance away. He pulled out his phone, saw the missed call was from Luke, and promptly returned it.
Luke answered on the first ring.
“Vincent,” came Luke’s raspy, strained voice through the receiver, “I just got jumped.”
Vincent’s brow furrowed. “Where are you? Who hit you?”
Before Luke could reply, Damian–still seated on the sofa–set his cup down with a soft clink.
He turned his head slightly toward Vincent and said, his tone casual, almost indifferent, “He’s in the restroom. And it was me.”
Damian said it so lightly, as if he were commenting on the weather.
Hearing his response, Vincent’s expression tightened. Without another word, he turned and strode quickly toward the restrooms.
Damian rose from the sofa and followed at a leisurely pace.
Just as they reached the entrance, Damian could hear Luke’s tearful, aggrieved voice from inside. “Vincent, it was Damian! That bastard Damian did this to me. You have to make him pay!”
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Luke’s face was a mess–blood smeared across his skin, looking raw and unsettling. He hadn’t even bothered to wash it off.
Vincent froze for a moment at the sight.
Before he could even form a question, Damian, leaning against the doorframe, let out a cold, quiet laugh. “Vincent, I’m the one who hit your brother. I’m right here. Let’s see how you plan to ‘make me pay“”
Vincent turned, his gaze sharp and angry. “Why would you do this?”
Damian’s expression turned to ice. “Luke let Naomi lay hands on my girl,” he shot back, his voice rising. “You tell me–did he deserve it or not?”
Hearing this, Vincent’s eyes narrowed. “For Scarlett? You’d go this far over her?”
From his tone, Damian caught the unspoken implication–that it wasn’t worth it.
And in that instant, Damian’s temper exploded.
He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward, his voice fierce. “You think all these of
years rivalry were for nothing? You think I never wanted to just work together and move on?” He let out a bitter, sharp laugh. “But Vincent, you took what should have been mine–and then you didn’t even treat her right. I’ve hated you every single day, wished you were gone for good. She was everything to me, and you… you treated her like she was nothing.”
He paused, his eyes blazing, jaw tight. When he spoke again, his voice trembled with barely controlled emotion. “How could you, Vincent? How did you ever dare?”
Seeing Damian this raw, this exposed, Vincent was momentarily taken aback.
Could this man—the one everyone saw as a careless playboy–really care this deeply?
Vincent pushed the thought aside. “The one who isn’t loved,” he said coolly, “is the one to be pitied.”
Damian just sneered. “So what if I am? I’d rather be her fool than your kind of king.”
The words struck Vincent as absurd. He let out a short, derisive laugh. “You’re pathetic.”
Damian didn’t flinch. He kept his voice low, almost soft. “You really think your Sabrina is so perfect, don’t you?”
When Vincent didn’t answer, Damian continued, “One day, you’ll regret the choice made today. You gave up someone who loved you completely for someone who only loves what you represent.”
you
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Vincent shook his head dismissively. “My life isn’t a romance novel.”
But Damian only smiled–a cold, knowing smile. “I’ll be waiting for the day you realize what you’ve lost.”
In their heated exchange, they had almost forgotten the third person in the room.
Luke couldn’t take it anymore. “Vincent!” he shouted from behind Vincent. “Are you just going to stand there? Call someone! Have him dealt with–now!”
Hearing Luke’s outburst, Damian laughed outright–a mocking, unrestrained sound. “If he was going to do anything, he would’ve done it by now.” He shook his head, still grinning. “Did you really think he’d dare touch me?”
With that, Damian let out another low chuckle, turned on his heel, and swaggered out of the
restroom.
Even after he was gone, the echo of his laughter seemed to hang in the tiled space.
Luke found the sound grating, unbearable. He covered his ears, as if he could block it out.
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