18. Chapter Damian
I ’ve been tossing and turning in my bed since last night. Opted for some tea that I thought would help, but after having that conversation with Aria in the kitchen, I was left even more wired and ended up getting no sleep whatsoever.
Seeing this side of her, so vulnerable and hurt, broke something in me. But more than that, it made me relate to her. My brain is working overtime, millions of questions left unanswered.
Who broke her?
How can I help her?
How can I help her if I can’t even help myself? That’s the question that has me pondering the most. I’ve barely managed to pick up my own broken pieces, how can I pick someone else’s? The feelings I’ve developed for her just went to a whole new level, knowing that she needs someone. I want to be that someone and be there for whatever she needs. I want to be the one to make her dark days sunny. How can I, though? When I’m the darkest day of them all.
This territory is unknown to me. All I’ve focused on is in my business and building my empire. Going against every memory I have with my father.
You’ll never become someone , he’d said. But here I am, a self-made billionaire.
You’re too weak. You wear your heart on your sleeve , he’d said. But here I am, with my perfectly crafted mask, showing the world how strong I am.
But it’s all a damn lie.
My mask is a lie.
I’m broken; empty; lonely.
To see her just like me, another broken soul opened old wounds that I’ve been avoiding; wounds I didn’t— don’t —want to face.
I haven’t even stopped to think about the kiss and what the hell this means for us. What if she regrets kissing me? It’s not like we spoke about it. Her panic attack was more than a sign, though. It’s clear she’s having mixed feelings about it.
Maybe she doesn’t regret it after all. Maybe it’s just all in your head .
I want to talk to her about this. God knows I do, but where do I even begin?
Do I want her to be mine? Yes.
Why am I hesitating, though? The reasons I refuse to accept are there, front and center.
Because I’m terrified of being rejected. Terrified that I’ll hurt her because I don’t know how to care about myself. How can I expect to care for someone else?
You already care.
You care more than you allow yourself to admit.
My brain is scrambled, my thoughts all over the place, and I can’t pinpoint a plan of action. Which scares the fuck out of me, because I’m a calculated man. Hell, I’ve calculated every move since I created my empire. In life, if you don’t get your shit together, it's just going to keep throwing you a million things at once until you drown. And right now, I’m fucking drowning with the uncertainty.
Today’s the meeting, so I have no other option but to push every thought away. Otherwise, I’ll fuck everything up and the gallery can’t afford it. This needs work. It’s my life project, after all. Failure is not an option.
With everything that has been going on, the break-in is the last thing on my mind, but I know we need to get to the bottom of it, which is why I’m arriving at the restaurant now before the meeting so I can speak with my cousin .
I spot Enzo at the bar with a stack of paperwork. The man is a gambling and partying addict, but he’s also a workaholic like me.
“You know you have an office for a reason, right?”
Enzo looks up, offering a mischievous grin. “You know I love being on the floor, making sure the staff is doing okay.”
“More like to flirt with your staff. Seriously, Enzo, you’re a walking liability.”
“You worry about yourself, cugino .” Cousin .
Adjusting my cufflinks, I get right to business. “Did Matteo find out who hacked my security system?”
He sighs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “No, not yet. But he said he’s close.”
I lean in, my tone sharp and serious. “Tell him if he needs motivation, I don't mind breaking a few of his teeth.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Noted. You’re not as scary as you think you are, by the way.”
All I do is glare at him. Dick .
He looks around, and I see the amusement in his eyes as he asks, “Where’s the redhead?”
I snap, “Why the fuck do you care?” I've been on edge since yesterday and the last thing I want to do is entertain Enzo. He loves playing games, like a fucking child.
He smirks, knowing he got a rise out of me. “Okay, then. Sore subject, got it,” he says as he gets up from his seat. “ Consider it dropped, for now.” He gives me a pointed look as he picks up his paperwork and walks away.
Great. Looking forward to the million questions he’ll throw at me next time I see him.
I’m sitting at the bar with my usual bourbon that I’m convinced I shouldn’t be drinking due to my lack of sleep, but it’s the only thing that can offer a moment of relief. The hair on the back of my neck rises in response to that knowing strawberry sweet scent I’ve grown to obsess over. Turning around, my gaze locks with Aria’s, but she quickly looks away, her face blushing in a savory pretty scarlet color.
She’s so radiant it hurts.
Today, she looks so different in a killing way. She has a pencil skirt that goes all the way down to her knees, paired with black tights and a white long-sleeve blouse. Her hair is straight, and her face is full of makeup. My eyes drop momentarily to her plump lips, and they look so inviting that all I want to do is grab her by the waist, place her on top of this bar, and kiss her until our lips grow numb.
I grip the empty bourbon glass, my knuckles going white, trying to control my emotions. The bartender places another drink in front of me, which I quickly take and drink it in one gulp, welcoming the burning feeling.
“You’re here early,” I say nonchalantly, trying my best to keep my composure. Only one person manages to make me nervous, and it’s the one standing in front of me with all her curves and bright smile.
“Yeah, I wanted to drink a glass of wine before the meeting to calm my nerves,” she says as she takes a seat next to me.
“You really think you should be drinking alcohol after yesterday?”
She crosses her legs, leaning back in her seat. “Please, if anything, alcohol will calm my nerves for this meeting.”
With a raised eyebrow, I give her a pointed, knowing look. “Yeah, well. I just want to make sure you're safe.”
She examines me with an inquisitive expression, as if she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re nice when you want to be, huh?”
Only for you.
I offer a casual shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She sets her hand on my arm, giving it a tender squeeze while she whispers, “I’m serious. Thank you for yesterday.” She sighs. “I typically go through my… issues alone. It was nice to know someone cared for a change.”
She lets go of my arm, leaving it with an empty, achy feeling. Her touch felt nice—addicting—and I want more of it. So much more.
Her words are like a splash of cold water, making my body all too aware. Why would she think no one cares about her? Why does that statement bother me so much? I want to unravel all her layers and discover what lies behind those fiery eyes. To find out what— or who —broke her.
She drinks her glass of wine as we talk about the meeting and how we’re going to counteroffer, depending on the issues we come across. The way she talks about art makes it even more exciting. I always thought we were polar opposites, that the only thing we shared in common was our love for art, but with everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours, there is so much more than I thought. I wonder when she fell in love with it and why. Regardless of how it happened, it brought her to me and I’m thankful for that.
The meeting transpired quickly, but not the way we exactly hoped. They only agreed to sell us one painting, when in reality we need two. We’re going to have to go to the New York auction after all, which, to be honest, is a perfect excuse to travel again with her.
She pushes the restaurant door open and sighs in frustration. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe my plan didn’t work.”
“You got us one painting. I’m not too worried. We have the auction coming up soon”
She quickly shakes her head. “I already told you I can’t go. I’m planning the gala, remember?”
“Well, we can’t technically have any gala if we don’t find the last statement piece, now, can we?” I question.
She looks up at the sky and murmurs something along the lines of God help me and I can’t do this again .
Flashing a grin, I reply playfully, “Aw, come on. Is traveling with me so bad that you can’t do this again?”
Tilting her head, she crosses her arms. “Well, considering what happened yesterday, I don’t think it’s the best course of action.”
My heart skips a beat as the cruel realization sinks in.
So she does regret it after all.
I opt not to say anything, because really, what can I say? I’m sure as fuck not sorry it happened, and I refuse to lie. It fucking stings to know she regrets it, especially because the kiss felt like it was meant to be. I felt like she responded to it, but maybe she just got wrapped in the heat of the moment. Maybe I did too.
Then, why can't you stop thinking about it?