Tapestry Of Lives: A Multifaceted Journey

Chapter Eighteen

**Damian’s P.O.V**

Coral’s raspy voice woke me up. "Young master," she called out.

I stretched my arms and yawned. The morning sun streamed through the large windows, hitting my eyes. I shielded my face with my hand and turned to see Coral, a middle-aged British woman, my nanny since I was five. She had always treated me like her own son, even though she never had children herself.

Her brown hair was neatly curled, and she wore a crisp black and white uniform with a white apron tied around her waist. Despite my many requests for her to be more informal, she continued to maintain her formal demeanor. Coral managed my London mansion and oversaw all my British staff.

"Good morning, Coral," I greeted, rubbing my eyes. After yesterday’s long flight, I felt I deserved a long rest.

"Good morning, young master," she replied in her strong British accent. "Your water is ready."

"Already?" I mumbled. She always prepared my bath. "I’ll do it later."

"No, you will now, young master, or else it will get too cold." She headed to my closet to pick out my clothes. "Are you here to stay or just for business?"

I groggily got out of bed, took off my top, and walked to the sink to brush my teeth. "Hopefully for business."

"How was Nigeria?" Her pronunciation of my homeland amused me. She had never been there.

"Sarcastic," I groaned, washing my face and grabbing a towel.

Coral laughed. "I bet not." She placed a casual outfit on my bed and left, saying, "Breakfast will be ready in ten."

After freshening up, I picked up my two phones. I hadn’t checked my social media since landing in London. I logged in on one phone while dialing a number on the other.

After a few rings, someone answered. "Good morning from London. Is this a good time for you to log in so we can talk properly?"

There was a pause. "Are you there, miss?" I asked.

"Y-Yes... sir... sorry?" she stammered. Her voice was sweet and familiar.

Leaning against the vanity table, I said, "I just saw your last message on WhatsApp. I have five minutes to talk, but we can chat later. I’m not in Nigeria right now."

"Is this your number? It’s international," she asked.

"Yes, I’m in London," I confirmed.

"Since when?" she inquired, then quickly apologized for being inquisitive.

"Since yesterday."

She was quiet for a moment. Coral had mentioned breakfast, and time was ticking. "I don’t have much time now. We can talk via video call later."

"No, no, no... we can just chat. That would be better," she insisted.

She was hiding something. "Do you have a problem with video calls?" I asked.

"Not really. I’m undergoing treatments on my face, so it’s not a good time. I promise to let you know when it’s better," she replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, I’m going down for breakfast. I’ll be online in twenty minutes."

"Okay," she said, and we hung up.

I wondered what she was hiding. The photos she had sent showed no injuries. They were sexy pictures, making me curious about her game. She better reveal her reasons, or she would be dealing with the world’s most dangerous Damian Ayomide.