𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: 𝐌𝐈𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐗 ✅

───※ ·11· ※───

───※ ·DAMIAN· ※───

Walking up the stairs with my mother, I tried not to look directly at the flashes coming from the series of cameras held by reporters. Mother had hired hefty bodyguards for this reason. Whenever the reporters tried asking a question, the bodyguards usually shove them aside and make way for us to pass through.

We finally got into the private elevator with the bodyguards in it as we locked the reporters out. My biggest guess was they were racing to the stairs or elevator to catch up with us.

"You're doing well, Damian." Mother's voice filled the quiet lift. "I can see the future of the company is going to be in safe hands. Just keep your head up high and you'll be fine."

"That would've been easy if they weren't blinding me with their camera flashes," I mumbled annoyingly, forcing mother to let out a small laugh.

"That's one chapter of your life you need to get used to. Look, Damian," Mother placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I know all this may seem overwhelming for you because your father and I didn't expose you to this life at an early age, but just know that you're doing perfectly well."

"Trust me mother," I said, at the same time I heard a 'ding' sound, indicating we'd arrived at our destination. "Nothing's overwhelming than father's death."

With a deep frown, I walked out first and moved towards the auditorium, while ignoring the reporters trying to push their cameras to my face. I knew where the room was located based on the few visit I had with my father when I was little.

I walked into the room to see it wasn't only filled with doctors in lap coats or nurses and cleaners in their respective uniforms, but also men and women in suits and journalists too. They all had their head turned to the entrance once they'd noticed my presence.

A large projection was at the front of the room and on it were slides of my father. There he was with his lab coat. Next was he helping a little girl open a juice pack. Another was of him attending to a sick patient. Another was of him performing a complicated surgery with beads of sweat on his forehead. And last was of him smiling brightly at an old woman in a wheelchair.

I felt a lump settle in my throat as I stared emotionlessly at the several slides. Staring at the face of someone I missed so damn much.

"Damian, my boy!" I blinked, diverting my attention from the projection to the man standing in front of me. My uncle. He was spotted with open arms and a grin. A grin I wanted to wipe off. "Why don't you come sit with me?"

"My son's sitting with me," A colder voice filled the atmosphere and it held no room for questioning. "Why don't you go back to your seat and get comfortable for the occasion?"

Uncle let out a chuckle and wriggled his fingers. He looked like he had a lot to say but chose to swallow it up. "Your wish is my command, chairwoman."

I frowned. There was a way he'd used the word 'chairwoman' and it didn't sit well with me. I watched as my uncle turned and headed back to his seat.

"Let's go," Mother encouraged me, as she placed a reassuring hand on my back and led me to the front of the room to have a seat beside her.

The occasion began. The director of the surgery team stood up and gave a speech on the many things my father had done for the hospital. How he'd built it from scratch to where it was today. He talked about how he treated the patient like family, gave most free treatment, and how every patient loved him dearly. Occasionally, I would turn to mother, only to spot her eyes welled up in tears. Though she tried hard to hold it in and keep her head up high to avoid looking weak.