The man they called insane

Welcome home young master

Damien woke slowly. For a moment, he did not know where he was.

The bed beneath him was soft. Too soft. The blanket covering his body smelled clean. Fresh. Warm air drifted through the room, carrying the faint scent of expensive wood and coffee.

His eyes opened fully.

A large chandelier hung from the ceiling above him. Dark gold curtains covered tall windows. The room itself looked bigger than his entire apartment with Serena.

Then the memories came back. The hospital. His parents. The blood. The fire.

Damien sat up too quickly and grabbed his chest. Pain shot through his body immediately. His muscles still ached from walking all night. Bruises covered his arms.

The earring.

His breathing became uneven as he searched around the bed desperately.

The door suddenly opened.

The older man from last night walked in carrying a tray of food. He quickly placed it down when he saw Damien awake.

"Young master, please do not stand up too fast."

Damien stared at him coldly. "Where am I?"

The older man straightened respectfully. "You are in the Ashford Estate, young master."

Damien frowned.

"Ashford?"

"Yes. This home belongs to your grandfather, Master Leonard Ashford."

Damien gave a dry laugh. "I think you have the wrong person."

"No, young master."

"I am not anybody's young master."

The butler's face softened sadly. "You are Damien Wicker. Son of Daniel Ashford."

That name made Damien freeze.

"My father?"

"Yes."

Damien shook his head slowly. "No. My parents were orphans."

The butler sighed quietly. "That is what they wanted people to believe. Your father left the Ashford family many years ago after a serious disagreement with your grandfather. He gave up his inheritance and changed his surname. Your parents wanted to raise you away from the family business."

Damien stared at him silently.

Too much had happened in too little time. His mind could barely hold it together anymore.

"So now what?" he asked bitterly. "Now suddenly I have a rich grandfather?"

The butler lowered his eyes. "Master Ashford has searched for your father for many years. When he finally found him, it was already too late."

Damien laughed again, but this time there was anger in it.

"Of course it was."

"Young master—"

"Where were all of you before?" Damien snapped. "Where were you when my parents were alive? Where were you when my wife locked me in a psychiatric hospital?"

The butler remained silent.

Damien shook his head and got off the bed slowly.

"I do not want this."

"You are hurt. Please rest first."

"I said I do not want this."

The butler looked genuinely pained. "Young master, you still belong here."

"No." Damien's voice became quiet. "I do not belong anywhere anymore."

His eyes searched the room desperately again.

"My earring."

The butler immediately reached into his pocket and handed it over carefully.

Damien grabbed it at once and closed his fist around it tightly.

The moment the cold metal touched his palm, he felt calmer. Without another word, he walked toward the door.

"Young master, please—"

Damien stopped briefly but did not turn around.

"Tell your master not to look for me again."

Then he left.

*****

The streets were crowded again by the time Damien reached the city.

People brushed past him without noticing him. The expensive clothes the servants had given him already looked wrinkled from walking for hours. His face still carried bruises from the night before.

But none of that mattered. His mind stayed trapped inside one thought. His father had a family. Yet he died alone.

Damien wondered if loneliness ran in the blood.

A black luxury car suddenly stopped beside the sidewalk.

Damien did not even look at it at first.

The back door opened quickly and another older man stepped out. This one was shorter, with silver hair and round glasses.

The moment he saw Damien, his eyes widened with emotion.

"Young master Damien," he whispered shakily.

Damien stopped walking. Then he looked up at the sky tiredly. "What is it this time?"

The older man blinked in surprise.

"My name is Harold Greene," he said carefully. "I served your mother's family for over thirty years."

Damien slowly looked back at him.

"My mother's family?"

"Yes, young master. The Whitmore family."

Damien stared at him in disbelief. For a few seconds, he actually laughed. Not because it was funny.

Because it felt insane.

"So now my mother was secretly rich too?"

Harold looked uncomfortable. "Your mother left home when she married your father. Both families opposed their relationship at the time."

Damien shook his head slowly.

"This cannot be real."

"We have searched for you for years," Harold continued gently. "Your parents hid their identities very carefully."

"And now you found me." Damien's eyes hardened. "After they are dead."

The butler lowered his gaze sadly.

Damien stepped closer.

"Tell me something honestly," he said quietly. "If my parents had not died... would any of you even be looking for me now?"

Harold could not answer immediately.

That silence told Damien everything. He nodded slowly. "That is what I thought."

"Young master—"

"I am not your young master." Damien stepped back. "Tell your family to go to hell."

Then he turned and walked away again.

****

The sun went down.

Damien found himself in a part of the city he did not know. Smaller streets. Old buildings. A few people still walking around.

He stopped near a small bar. The door was open. Music played inside. Not loud. Just background noise.

Two men stood outside smoking cigarettes. They were talking.

"Did you hear about Wicker Dynamics?" one of them said.

Damien froze.

"The big company?" the other asked.

"Yeah. The owner went crazy. Attacked his wife. Beat her badly. They locked him up in some hospital."

Damien's hands started shaking.

"That is what I heard too. And now the wife is taking over. She is engaged to the business partner. What is his name? Adrian something."

"Adrian Cross. Yeah. I saw the announcement this morning. She is going to be the new chairwoman. Big wedding planned for next month."

The first man laughed. "Rich people. They move fast. The husband is not even cold yet."

"Cold? He is not dead. Just crazy. Locked away somewhere."

"Same thing."

They laughed again.

Damien walked away.

He walked until he found an empty alley. He sat down against a wall. He pulled his knees to his chest.

Serena was getting married to Adrian. She was taking his company. She was telling everyone he was crazy. That he beat her. That she was the victim.

And everyone believed her. Because she had money. Because she had power. Because she had been planning this for years.

He had nothing. He was sitting in an alley. Barefoot. Broken. Alone. The earring was still in his hand.

He pressed it into his palm until it drew blood. Then he closed his eyes.

He did not know if he passed out or fell asleep. He just knew that at some point, the world went dark.

He woke up in the same bed.

Same white ceiling. Same chandelier. Same dark wood furniture.

Damien sat up. The old butler from Ashford estate was sitting in a chair near the window. Waiting.

"How did I get here?" Damien asked.

"My men found you in an alley this morning. You were unconscious." The old man stood up. "You said you did not want our help. But we could not leave you there."

Damien rubbed his face. His head hurt. His whole body hurt. "I thought I told you. I do not want anything to do with your family."

The old man walked closer. He stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Young master," he said. "I heard what those men said last night. About your wife. About the company."

Damien looked up. "You were listening?"

"We have people everywhere. Someone saw you near that bar. They reported back to me." The old man folded his hands. "I know about Serena. I know about Adrian. I know about the hospital. I know about your parents."

Damien said nothing.

The old man's voice dropped lower. "After everything you heard last night... are you sure you do not want to get your revenge?"

Damien stared at him.

"Do you know what it would mean to have the power of Ashford behind you?" the old man continued. "Money that your wife could only dream of. Connections that go deeper than any company board. Resources that could find the people who killed your parents."

Damien's hand tightened around the earring.

"You would never be looked down on again," the old man said. "You would never be powerless again. You could take back everything they stole from you. And more."

Silence filled the room.

Damien looked down at the earring in his hand. Dark stones. Silver vines.

He thought about his mother's last breath. He thought about his father's hand reaching for the door.

He thought about Serena's empty eyes. Adrian's gloating smile. The way they laughed while he was strapped to a hospital bed.

He looked up at the old man. "They took everything from me already,” Damien said quietly. “So I might as well take everything from them too. Fine," he said. "I agree."

The old man's eyes filled with tears again. But this time, he smiled.

"Welcome home, young master. Welcome to Ashford."