Beautiful Ruins

Chapter 20

MAE

“We need to talk.”

Hearing my quiet voice from the bottom of the stairs, my back to him as he works his way down, Damon doesn’t reply. Instead, there’s a distinct shift in his weight and speed in which he reaches the ground floor. He rounds on me, taking notice that I’m no longer wearing the ball gown or the gifted necklace.

“I’m listening.” Him being so amicable is both a blessing and a complication. With his fresh scent a mix of shower and subtle citrus, it’s almost enough for me to wrap my arms around his waist and pretend he hasn’t just ripped out my heart.

Somehow, I find the strength to continue. “I had a particularly interesting conversation with Adam tonight.”

Damon is an exceptional listener. He’s patient and carefully considers the weight of every word spoken to him. It’s an admirable trait that has evidently worked against me because people like him hoard information, carefully stowing it away for an opportune moment or until they’re caught.

He nods slowly, understanding how the night has gone sour. “I figured you did. The man loves to talk.”

“Is that why you avoided introductions when we first arrived at the ball?”

Another nod.

How I wish that weren’t the case.

I’m searching high and low for anything that would disprove the deception I’m faced with, but I’m met with a dead end. “There’s, um… there’s something I don’t understand, and I really need you to do the right thing and be honest.”

Damon prepares himself by tucking his hands into his jeans pockets, causing his triceps to flex. He’s settling in for a serious discussion, for which I’m glad. He could just as easily threaten me into silence the way Peter would. Yet, under his watchful gaze, I realize just how much I’m going to miss the man standing before me. How much I love the way he looks at me, even now, like he’s attentive to my every word. That at this moment, no one else could possibly matter. But I’m forced to swallow my grief because attentiveness doesn’t always equal sincerity.

He considers me a long moment, and I expect him to say it won’t be possible. Then he surprises me. “You have my word.”

I swallow sharply, ignoring the way his deep voice continues to have an effect on my good sense. “You knew of Peter’s infidelities prior to the dinner party. You even have proof of them, strong, irrefutable evidence. So why didn’t you just blackmail him from the very beginning? Why, why would you choose to put me through hell when you already had all you needed on him?”

He doesn’t hesitate, and it provides a spark of hope I know will soon extinguish. “Peter was to play a much bigger role. A much more in-depth , active role that would see him utilized for years to come. We considered him a long-term investment, and it was crucial the business relationship got off on the right foot.”

I could laugh at its naivety. “And then you met him.”

Although it’s not aimed at me, Damon’s expression darkens. “People look one way on paper, but when you meet them in person, all preconceived ideas go out the window. Yes, I knew of his serial cheating, but I didn’t know the extent of his appalling treatment toward you.” The vein in his neck pulsates for every second he holds my gaze. “It wasn’t until I had you both together that I saw how the sick fuck has taken it upon himself to destroy you, Mae. He’s a rabid dog frothing at the mouth, desperately trying to maul you alive any chance he gets.”

“Did you purposefully play on my vulnerability? Was it something you and Jason figured you could work to your advantage?”

He hesitates, and my heart breaks. “In the beginning, it was discussed how we could best benefit.”

I bite my lip until it hurts. Anything to distract me from crying. “Thank you for being honest.”

“You have to understand, I never anticipated being so drawn to you. But I am, to the point where it’s all I think about. I want you to be mine. And the more that attachment grows, the more I want every piece of that fucker’s life to burn to the ground like he so purposefully does with you. So, the proposal plan changed. It went from being a long-term investment with Peter to culling it to a one-time deal and to get you as far away from him as possible, preferably with you by my side. To achieve that, I needed to expose him for all he’s worth, minimize his role, and sooner than later dispose of him.”

I get it. But words are just that. In my experience, no matter who utters them, promises are just as volatile as lies. From the moment our eyes met at the dinner party, I was the moth to his flame. Knowing what I needed to survive, Damon toyed with me and burned me with his light, but still, I remain completely and unequivocally infatuated with him, all while knowing he’s playing me for the fool.

And that’s what hurts the most.

“I have no allegiance to Peter, and I’m not here to protect him. So, you can do what you like, and I won’t stand in your way. But I do want to know why you would, in good conscience, put people’s lives at risk with this contract. It’s bad enough that you dragged me into this, but if you know something has a high chance of being catastrophic, then why do it? Why put your name to it?”

His answer is as easy as it is disturbing. “Because we don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you do. You say no thank you , and you walk away.”

“Perhaps it’s easy with the people in your circle, but at risk of sounding condescending, you and I are from two vastly different worlds, Mae. Problems don’t magically go away when you say please or no thank you .”

I do understand what he’s saying. I don’t mingle with high-rollers. I love when they purchase my paintings, but I’m not in their inner circles. I don’t have a clear understanding of how the mega-wealthy live their lives or how they struggle with moral and ethical quandaries.

“Surely, President Ziyad has more sense than wanting his name on something that carries so much risk?”

“That’s why he employs the right people to make it work so his name can be on it. We’re talking about the president of the UAE, who is in direct competition with the Saudi Arabian prince who’s recently proposed a five-hundred-billion-dollar project that will put his country on the map for architectural feats. You can’t tell these men that something isn’t possible because the reply will be simple … make it possible .”

“And by making it possible , your plan was to use Peter as the fall guy. The one who will face the wrath of consequences when it all comes crashing down. And you and the Sheikh escape without so much as a scratch. For you even to consider doing that, you must have serious doubts over the project.”

His silence speaks volumes, and while lost in thought, Damon leans against the round hall table and crosses his ankles. “This desert masterpiece Ziyad so fondly refers to as, is for the world’s elite. It’s a ninety-floor oasis reachable for guests only by helicopter. The location is the problem with it being built on the rolling sand dunes at one of the furthest points in the Empty Quarter. It’s called that for a reason because it’s considered uninhabitable. The ground is compromised. It’s made up of weak, crumbling siltstone as far as two hundred and sixty-two yards below the surface in a seismically active area . A single structural spine of a mega high-rise is a challenge . President Ziyad refuses to change the particularly unique design or the location, which others have wisely steered clear of. So, I’m forced to work with what I’ve got. Adam didn’t want anything to do with it, and Peter doesn’t have the skills to take it on independently. So that’s how the idea was birthed. Adam does the legwork because he’s brilliant at what he does, but his name is to be nowhere on the submissions. If, and that’s a big if, something did go wrong, he’d avoid jail time or, if found negligent, capital punishment. It’s not exactly something that can be advertised to other honest engineers. So, the way we went about it was the only viable option.”

Hearing him say it aloud makes it far more terrifying.

“Damon, I know you’re good at what you do … the best even, but how do you feel comfortable with this?”

“Because it can be done. Adam is a talented engineer, more than he’ll ever give himself credit for. I’ve never once doubted his ability, even with this project. He’s the one doubting himself.”

“Well, from the sounds of it, his doubt is valid.”

“Perhaps, but it’s my name on the build, so if anything does happen, which it won’t, it will also destroy everything I’ve worked for. For Adam, fear of the unknown can be crippling. I’m confident he can cross that threshold and get the project over the line.”

“Damon, that sounds like the mantra of a gambling man.”

Promise glints in his fierce eyes. “Maybe so, but I only ever play to win, Mae.”

He means every damn word of it, and my skin tingles in the aftermath, mainly because I don’t know if it makes me the loser in this game or because the only thing that could possibly stand in Damon Shaw’s way of having me all to himself is himself .

He watches my sharp swallow and the way it betrays me. Then, completely powerless against his magnitude, it’s me who’s first to look away, but not without feeling the immediate loss of him.

The night, however, is pressing, and the outcome is yet to be determined, so with that in mind, Damon watches me shift as I retrieve the envelope I’ve been sitting on. Emotion seizes my throat because I simply don’t know how I can see this to the other side without incurring further wounds.

For us, however, this might just spell the end.

I take a moment to memorize his face. When I bring myself to think of him years down the road, I want to remember just how he affected me. “I, um… I want you to tell me why you have these.”

Damon takes the package and searches my glistening eyes before peering inside. He stills. Merely glancing at the contents, he inhales deeply, drawing on the hope this won’t be our destruction.

“That day in your office, Damon, I confessed to things that each day threaten to destroy me. Things that haunt me in my living hours as much as they do my nightmares. You saw for yourself how powerless I am against these men. How easy it is for them to keep me prisoner, frightened every day because I don’t know if I’ll have to survive just one or both during the night.”

Nothing .

He gives me nothing.

He can no longer even look at me.

“After everything I’ve gone through, Damon, I deserve more than your silence. Look at me, please. ”

He obliges, dragging his gaze from the floor to meet mine, his palpable regret hitting me hard.

Don’t get lost in him .

I stand, slowly pacing at a safe distance. Far enough away that he can’t reach for me because if I feel his touch, he’ll shatter my resolve. If he pulls me into his strong arms, I may never escape.

“You swore there was nothing else you were keeping from me. With a straight face, you blatantly lied until I stupidly believed every damn word.”

Damon finally breaks his silence, but the response only further twists the knife. I feel his need to graze my damp skin with his knuckles and collect the tears like they’re memories. But the river between us remains, widening and growing more turbulent with each passing second. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

I stare at him, my heart thudding in my throat because he’s just admitted there is something damaging to these photographs. “You have to tell me what it is you know.” His further silence is like a declaration of war, and my frustration grows. “Damon, you head a billion-dollar empire that sees you doing business with Middle Eastern royalty. You mingle with the richest people on the planet and have established connections with every person of importance who can get you places and save your hide. How am I supposed to believe that you, of all people, simply couldn’t find the words to tell me?”

“Not having the words to tell you is the truth because I don’t love any of those people, Mae. I love you, and that makes it infinitely harder for me to willingly hurt the person I care most about.”

I wince as my heart suffers yet another blow, and my words form only a whisper, “Love doesn’t change anything. Not this time.”

Nostrils flaring, Damon takes the hit, his deep voice reverberating through my body. “ It changes everything. I was never going to use it as blackmail.”

I wish that were true.

“This…” I gesture between us, “… this is not love , Damon. This is greed and coercion.” The flicker of hurt written across his face threatens to derail me, but there’s too much rage flowing through my veins. I’m done with feeding the egos of men who, time and time again, lead me to their sacrificial altars. “You investigated every facet of my life, no doubt celebrating each piece of information even I wasn’t privy to. So, how am I supposed to see any of this differently?”

“You might consider this as a convenient excuse in hindsight, but the truth of it is, not once did it cross my mind to hurt you with that information.”

“And yet, you stand before me ignorant to my needs all because yours haven’t been met?”

“It’s not ignorance, Mae. I just didn’t want to be the one who delivered the blow.”

“Why stop at this, Damon? Almost seven months ago, you decided to use me as a bargaining tool, and to this day, I still am, despite you stating otherwise. Despite you saying you love me. I’m…” I stall, gasping as my chest tightens with emotions I cannot allow myself to give in to. “I’m so, so hurt by you. More than I ever could have imagined.”

Damon drags a hand over his face, battling to get the words off his tongue. “I have those photos because after listening to you that day in my office, sections of the story stood out to me that I personally felt needed to be investigated. So, I had a team dive a little deeper, and they compiled these images while Jason and I targeted Peter’s office.”

I shake my head. “Why? What were you looking for?”

“A hard drive. I had reason to believe there had been a history of foul play, and I wanted evidence.”

“That’s why you have CCTV footage of Carlson outside a motel?”

I might be imagining it, but Damon’s face pales. “What we found in Peter’s office led us to The Palms Motel.”

“But why? A prostitute?”

He sighs, and it hits harder than it should. “No, Mae.”

My heart stops, and I wait for him to deny it, but he doesn’t. “Me?” His nod is like a punch to the stomach, and I could fold right over and vomit. “What were they doing? What did they do to me?”

“The photos of Carlson outside the motel coincide with the video we discovered encrypted on Peter’s hard drive.”

“Of?”

“Of you and them.” Again, Damon drags a hand over his face and sighs. “On Carlson’s birthday, they drugged you and took you to The Palms Motel where they…” he clears his throat, affected by the last bit of the sentence he can’t seem to say aloud. “It’s what you think it is.”

The room spins around me, but the one thing that keeps me anchored is Damon.

My words float between us in a whisper, “It’s definitely me?”

“Yes.”

“And… and it’s definitely Carlson ?”

He nods. “I’m sorry, Mae.”

~

DAMON

This isn’t fucking happening. Not like this.

I witness the horror of it all strip any flickers of hope from her sad eyes.

She doesn’t speak. She’s barely even fucking breathing.

No doubt, she’ll be imagining the same vile scenes I am. The same images that are impossible to forget no matter how hard I try. From the brothers plotting their assault to the duplicitous banter between Carlson and Mae at the party, all while he was preparing to commit his heinous acts. How one asshole would have chivalrously prepared her a drink, then like the deviant he is, drugged and handed it to her while the other grinned like a fucking degenerate. How they both would have watched with eagle eyes as the drug took effect, waiting until she became unsteady and disorientated, ultimately isolating herself from the party.

Then they pounced.

Deep sorrow resonates in Mae’s voice. “That can’t be true.”

She doesn’t need me to further confirm or deny because she’s been replaying the admission. I watch her soul slipping from her body, and it’s my words responsible for it. Mae slumps onto the stairs and sobs into her trembling hands, the sound ripping my heart wide open. Eventually, she looks up at me. “When, when did you find out?”

‘If you sit on this, she’ll never forgive you,’ Jason’s words of warning are now well and truly set in motion.

“ When , Damon?”

I wish I’d memorized the look on her face while we danced under the desert stars.

I wish I’d told her for a second time how much I love her because once will never be enough.

I wish…

“I found out the night before we flew here.”

Clutching her stomach, she steps away, distraught at what she sees as yet another betrayal, this time from someone who promised her every day since that he’ll protect her. “You were never going to tell me!”

“I needed time, Mae.”

“ Time ? Time to sort out your business affairs. To hell with me, right? As long as the contract takes priority, to hell with Mae Ellison and whatever the fuck those two degenerate men did to her.”

If only she knew the hours I’ve spent visualizing their violent deaths.

“The truth is, me not telling you had nothing to do with the contract.”

“The truth sat next to me on the plane for fifteen hours. Literally, an arm’s length away, hidden in your briefcase, and you chose to keep it to yourself?”

“That’s not how it is.”

“ Stop lying to me!”

“I fucked up, Mae. I’m the first to admit it, but not for the reasons you think.”

“So, tell me then…” her voice quakes, “… with the evidence stowed in your briefcase, were you planning on telling me before this trip was over?”

My hesitant murmur hits her at full force. “No.”

For a long, silent moment, we simply hold each other’s stare, my eyes only reluctantly leaving Mae’s to follow the tears slipping down her cheeks.

“I didn’t want to see this for what it really is.” Her blank stare sees right through me. “But now, I’m forced to, and boy, do I feel like an idiot.”

“Mae—”

“Everything in the lead-up to tonight had to do with the contract. Everything ! Every touch to seduce me. Every carefully constructed word to entice me into your manipulative web of lies. Every sentiment that appealed to little Mae’s abused heart.”

She waits for my rebuttal, my silence spurring her on.

“You followed me for six months to build your stockpile. You blackmailed me with a sex tape. You threatened consequences when I failed to comply. Then, you were forced to try a different tactic when you realized just how utterly woeful my marriage is. And I stupidly…” She shakes her head, lost in self-loathing. “I stupidly fell for every word you knew would appeal to my pathetic, meek mind.”

I’ve fucked up.

I’ve fucked up so damn bad that there’s not a chance in hell of clawing her back.

“Mae, you are neither of those things. He may think that way, but I’ve only ever witnessed your endurance.”

“Spare me the pity. Twenty minutes ago, you had no intention of telling me about the photos or the video, and it took poking the bear for you to finally crack. What Peter and Carlson have done to me is so vile and reprehensible it’s beyond belief. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.” She bites her trembling bottom lip. “But the cherry on top is you . I don’t understand how you could confess your love yet be so cavalier about watching and having in your possession footage of my assault. Instead of telling me or going to your good buddy, the Chief of Police, with the evidence, you leave it stowed away for safekeeping for when the right opportunity presents itself.”

She searches my face, looking for a flicker of hope.

“I needed that evidence, Damon. I knew he…” Emotion catches on her inhale. “I knew he was doing things to me. And you made a deal that would have seen that evidence disappear. Without it, Carlson will keep coming for me, do you understand that? You don’t know him like I do, Damon. You don’t know how driven he is to hurt me.”

“He will never touch you again.”

“And without the evidence given to the right people, he will never see the inside of a jail cell. He will continue being celebrated and admired in a community that thinks he can do no wrong while I fall asleep every night with one eye open just in case my husband sends out an invite.” She watches the heavy rise and fall of my chest like every heartbeat is a betrayal. “Don’t you see, Damon, by keeping the evidence, you chose which side you’re on. So, if I’m Peter’s enemy, that also makes me an enemy of yours.” Her tears well and defeat looms. “But I get it. This was entirely business, and you didn’t want to lose your last playing card. The most important one of all because you know how much those brothers love to control me and without it, nothing would matter to Peter, and your contract would be lost.”

“That’s not true.”

“ Stop lying! Peter told me you’d cut a deal with him on the tarmac when we landed, Damon.” Her nostrils may flare with accusation, but she’s utterly devastated by my apparent allegiance to her despicable husband.

As if that sack of shit didn’t have enough reasons to be buried alive. “And what exactly did Peter say?”

She sees the question as the ultimate betrayal. “If he pledged ten years of contracts with no remuneration, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I deserve more than having every man in my life try to fuck me over every chance he gets. Peter knew you had the video, Damon, and a deal was made to keep it hidden. This is what he was talking about.”

“Listen to me—”

“You’re an asshole .” With a slight lilt in her stance, she’s close to fainting but composes herself enough to cast me a fresh look of utter disdain. “How fucking noble of you all to negotiate the terms and conditions of the contract at the expense of my personal safety. But that’s how this all started, right? So why should it end any differently?” Her fingers clench into tight fists. “You spent weeks goading me into standing up to Peter, yet you lack the courage to admit you’ve never stopped playing me for a fool.”

I can’t blame her for feeling like this. She’s been pushed and pulled in every direction by a group of men wielding their control, all with different methods and motivations but just as volatile as the other.

I want her to look me in the eyes. I need her to see I haven’t always been the enemy.

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t!” She holds a finger up in warning, her bottom lip trembling. “Don’t call me that.”

I’ve broken her.

“Mae… have you ever loved someone so damn much you’d risk losing everything in going to war for them? Or to fight a battle they’re unable to, just so you can see them breathe for another day?”

The sadness in her voice is crippling. “Every man I’ve ever tried to love has only waged war on me. My father. Peter. And you .” Absently, Mae’s hand moves to her throat, fingers grazing the scar on her neck. “Damon, I need to know.” Her plea is barely audible, but it doesn’t matter because I’m hanging onto her every pained word. “Have I got this all wrong? Have I got us wrong?”

Has she?

I’ve wanted the best of both worlds, and in doing so, I placed Mae in harm’s way. I ordered an impossible task to be achieved, all while wanting to keep her for myself. I allowed a sex tape to be used as blackmail but still expected her trust and loyalty, which she gave willingly, not out of ‘meekness,’ but because Mae was honest with her feelings from the beginning. As if I needed to give her more of a reason to hate me, I kept Mae imprisoned behind a locked gate just as Peter did with cuffs to the bed. I took it upon myself to prevent access to the outside world, confiscating her phone on more than one occasion just as he did before demanding she grovel for it back.

Worst yet, even after discovering the assault video, I continued with Peter’s involvement instead of handing the evidence over to Frank. I still had Mae board a long-haul flight, sharing the same air space with the husband , who has sexually abused and beaten her since the day they married.

I fucked up.

More than once.

She hates me, and that’s a punishment I’ll have to endure, but nothing changes how I crave retribution on her behalf and how I’ll stop at nothing to get it.

“I didn’t tell you, Mae, because I want to destroy those motherfuckers first. I want to take pleasure in ending their miserable existences and having them hurt for everything they’ve done to you. I want war on those assholes.”

She flinches as if I’ve just spewed another lie, but it doesn’t stop me.

“I would move the world for you, but to do that, I need you far away from Peter. Because this…” I backhand the envelope I’m holding. “This isn’t even the beginning or the end of what he’ll pay for.”

I soon realize the grave error I’ve made when her face etches with panic. “What does that even mean? Damon, what does that mean?”

Fuck it!

I shake my head, pacing to tame the violence surging through my veins.

She whispers, “Please!”

And my fucking heart breaks.

“There’s more, Mae.”

“More what?”

“More videos. We just haven’t found them.”

“No.” She shakes her head in denial, her face aghast. “Don’t say that.” Mae clutches the balustrade, grappling with the news that’s sending her down an endless rabbit hole of torment. “They had all night with me, Damon.” Haunted by having been stripped of all control and at the mercy of two degenerate men, she asks the one thing I simply cannot bring myself to answer. “What exactly did they do to me?”

“Mae…”

Reading my expression, her own hardens with the contempt I deserve. “Tell me. Please .”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Damon—”

“It’s a firm no.” If I do, I won’t be able to breathe life back into you. “I’m sorry.”

My apology means shit, and my refusal is a declaration of war. If she were handling something sharp or blunt, I would be dead right now. “Damon, I deserve to know.”

My own emotions, a volatile mix of grief and rage, seize my chest. “If you can learn to live without knowing, Mae, you’d be giving yourself a chance to survive this.”

I’m forsaking her in real-time, and all I can do is watch as she comes face-to-face with breaking point. Her tragically sad voice is one of anguish. “ You don’t get to make that decision.”

The footage is scored into my brain. Had she been conscious throughout the ordeal, Mae would have lost all will to live. “Sweetheart, for your sake, I have to.”

Realizing I’m standing firm in my decision, no matter how much she loathes me for it, she swipes her tears and braces for the next question. “Who else has seen the video?”

Fucking hell.

After too long a pause and witnessing her further distress at my silence, I relent because don’t I owe her that much? “Jason and Marco.”

With a fresh wave of burning humiliation, Mae covers her face. “Oh my God!”

“It’s not how you think it is.”

“It’s exactly what I think it is,” she yells, launching the scathing attack I deserve. “You all pretended like you hadn’t just watched me being raped for six hours straight. I sat beside you all on the plane and went to a goddamn ball, and not one of you assholes was morally compelled to tell me what my own husband and his fucking brother had done.”

“I understand how this looks, but we all want their blood. I promise you.”

“Just stop! Stop with the promises.” She bends at the waist, her long, beautiful hair cascading over her tear-streaked face. “I can’t breathe .”

Instinctually, I move to help, but she flinches before backing toward the door, a motion that makes my blood run cold.

“Don’t go to him, Mae. Not after everything I’ve just told you. He’s dangerous and unstable.”

Her despair will remain long after she’s gone, as will her melancholy smile. “And you’re not?”

In the dark of night, Peter may have wielded a knife at Mae, but I took that blade and carved my name on her heart.

Now, she sees me for the living, breathing monster I really am.

A different version of Peter but still a monster.

Mae swings open the door only to be met by Marco. He’s heard everything, grave concern marring his face. His large body blocks the exit, and her shoulders slump.

The night of the dinner party, she’d walked out of my office, ashen, trembling, and desperate to take flight. She’d wanted to leave, and I’d said no . Instead of setting her free like she deserved, I coerced Mae into submission. Now, here I find myself wishing that little bird would find her wings and fly with the seasons, far, far away from the assholes who hurt her.

Me included.

If she needs an escape, I’ll give one as long as Peter isn’t the answer. To Marco, I say, “Stay with her.”

Mae turns sharply, eyes blazing anew. “Damon, I swear to God, I just need… I just …” Her small hands wrap around her throat as if struggling to breathe. “I need to be in control of my own life for five damn minutes.”

It’s a cutting warning that if I overstep again, there’s no chance in hell I can pull her back. The tether is frayed, barely holding on by the weakest strand.

I can’t lose this woman forever, so I’m forced to let go.

I nod to Marco, who, for a moment, refuses to acknowledge my instruction. He thinks I’m making a mistake.

I know I am.

But it’s a mistake I need to make in order for Mae to take steps toward forgiveness.

Issuing a silent warning, Marco inhales deeply and reluctantly moves aside.

Mae’s wounded gaze holds mine, a fresh wave of tears cascading down her stricken face. “Damon, tonight, you said you love me. I need you to know that I felt the weight of those three words like I was hearing them for the first time in my life.” Her voice quivers as she turns, preparing to flee. “Whether you meant them or not.”