Chapter 21 Astra #2
As uncertainty washes through me again, I realize where it’s coming from.
I’ve got a closer tether to Donovan. No one else’s emotions mess with me the way his do.
I mean to reassure him, but all I can do is stare up into his dark eyes.
I don’t dare show how deep this goes for the two of us.
It could be seen as a weakness, and I feel like Donovan isn’t allowed to have any kind of cracks in his armor.
Not even in the company of the people he probably trusts the most.
“You should have left a note,” I tell him frankly, a hint of playful anger in my eyes. I’m giving him an out without it seeming like I am. Or so I hope.
I take a sip of my coffee and peer up at him from under my lashes. The shock flashes over his face so fast I nearly miss it, but I don’t, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
Donovan hums, but it sounds closer to an unhappy grunt.
I lose his eyes as he straightens. I tell myself I didn’t really want that kiss anyway, even if it’s a big fat lie.
He makes a show of pulling the seat to my left out slowly.
His focus is on a spot on the table while he reaches for the French press.
His brow furrows as he pours the dark liquid into the empty white cup sitting on the saucer in front of him.
I’m sure it’s not the coffee that’s causing the crease between his brows to deepen.
I want to pat myself on the back in victory because I’ve thrown him off a little.
“You need my approval for what?” Donovan’s voice is deep and laced with a deadly edge, as if he already knows it’s something he won’t like.
“You know what?” Fabien shakily says. “We’re running low on coffee.” He jumps up, reaching for the French press, which is nearly empty now. “I’ll go ask Lucille nicely to make some more.”
He’s gone before either of us can say anything.
Donovan’s dark eyes are on me as if he doesn’t care that Fabien practically fled like a robber running from the scene of the crime.
“He wants to test my abilities,” I say, trying to play it off as all fun and games.
“No,” Donovan says flatly. His face shows not a single hint of emotion, and strangely, I don’t feel anything flowing through me. He’s locked himself up tight. This is interesting.
I gape at him, anger zipping hot through my veins.
“If you’re done being a brat, we can start the morning properly.
” He changes the subject abruptly as if he can sense that I’m about to spit fire.
He drags his gaze up to mine, and there’s a softness I don’t often see in his dark eyes.
I don’t melt, I don’t. But I do put a lid on my anger for the time being.
“Good Morning, Astra. I hope you slept well. I do apologize that I left you, but I had a pressing matter come up.”
“Oh,” I say as I nearly deflate to the point I sag back in my seat and wish to become invisible. Well, now I feel bad.
I hate that he just knows. It’s infuriating and annoying. But I can’t deny how I also love the way he calls it out like that. Maybe communication isn’t as hard with him as I’ve been treating it. He’s very forward and blunt. I think it’s time to try a different tactic from now on.
“Is everything alright?” I ask.
This causes him to pause and study me. He’s looking so deeply into my eyes that I think he’s trying to see straight through to my soul.
“Do you really want to hear about it?” he finally asks.
If I say yes, will he really tell me what’s going on?
A thrill runs through me at the level of trust that will expose.
He’s ruthless and cocky, but he’s not stupid.
He doesn’t take his position or his empire for granted.
And part of keeping things going wouldn’t be to simply run your mouth and expose your wrongdoings.
If I were a cunning woman, I’d say I have him right where I want him. I could extract information and use it against him.
But I’m not, and I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever fight he has going on with my father. I sure as heck don’t want to get on Donovan’s bad side.
I want his trust, and I want to feel like an equal when I’m with him. Or as close to one as someone can get. I want him to view me as an ally. I want to be that for him.
It’s a scary world, but I’m ready to dive into it. I know it’s dark and very, very morally gray, and I’m sure that’s putting it lightly. I’m tired of being on the bad end of a spell and under someone’s thumb.
“Yes,” I tell him.
For a second, I think he’s going to dismiss me when he reaches for his coffee and takes a long sip.
“The man you… saw me with in the alley is responsible for poisoning Sonny,” he starts, no emotion in his tone or expression, and I sense he’s doing his best to hold it all in.
Questions ping in my mind, but he goes on before I have a chance to ask any of them.
“I didn’t know it at the time you saw us.
I only knew he’d been selling drugs in my city.
Something I’ve already had a stern talk with him about. ”
I wonder if he would have killed the man hadn’t I stumbled into the alley that day.
The front gate opens with a long, shrill creak, but it barely cuts through the tension. I turn my head to find Torrin sauntering in as if he owns the place. He pulls out the chair on my other side, sending me a cheeky smile as he lowers himself down.
“Good morning,” Torrin says. His gaze bounces between Donovan and me.
“This morning we had a lead on tracking him down,” Donovan says as if Torrin hadn’t just joined the conversation.
“Did you find him?” I ask eagerly.
“Oh, so we’re doing this, huh?” Torrin asks, and I can’t tell if his tone is annoyed or amused. He reaches over and grabs Donovan’s cup of coffee. Donovan glares at Torrin as the man puts the cup up to his smirking lips and takes a long, obnoxiously loud sip. “Carry on.”
I’ve noticed quite a few things about Torrin.
He’s more relaxed within the walls of this house.
His persona outside is very stoic, almost scary if you catch him in the right light.
I believe he’s as deadly as Donovan, only he hides it better.
I think there’s a reason for that, but I don’t know him well enough to speculate what it could be.
“We had a lead, but he was gone by the time I got there,” Donovan says with a scowl. “I have people out looking for him right now. I believe they are closing in on him.”
Torrin steals a grape from my bowl and tosses it into his mouth. I shake my head at him, but there’s a slight smile on my face when he throws a wink my way.
“This all leads back to my father, doesn’t it? This guy, the alley one, he’s connected to my father? He poisoned your employee because my father wanted him to?” I ask, but I don’t really need to, because inside, I know the truth.
“Yes,” Donovan says. The dark look that overtakes his face frightens me a little. But only a little. I wonder what that says about me.
He has so much hate for my father. I can feel it coming off him in waves. It’s overtaking my own emotions and clouding my brain.
I need Donovan to know that I’m on his side.
That I choose him now, and always will.
But how do you tell this to a man who barely trusts the people he keeps the closest in his inner circle? How do I get him to see it?
“We’ve found him,” Torrin says as he shoves his phone into his pocket.
I jump as he stands, the chair scraping against the concrete. He steals one more grape from my bowl with an impish expression on his face, and I know my chance to make them both understand that I’m on this team is lost.
Donovan rises, too, and I flick my gaze to his.
To my surprise, he lingers for a second. He knows this conversation isn’t done. He’s torn. I won’t stand in his way.
“Later,” I whisper.
He leans over, placing a kiss on my cheek. I nuzzle the hand that cradles the opposite side of my face, loving how his strong touch is warm against my skin.
My eyes stay glued to him as he walks away.
The man really can wear a suit.
“Play nice,” I call out with a smile.
Torrin snorts at me and keeps walking to the front gate.
“How am I supposed to do that?” Donovan asks as he turns back to face me. His hand goes to his hip, pushing the flap of the jet black jacket to his suit back enough so that I can see the gun holstered at his side.
There is a thrill seeing it that I’ve never had before. I can’t believe he’s being so bold in front of me. He’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s a monster. He’s hurt people, and I’ve seen it, so I suppose there’s no point in us hiding behind flimsy pretenses. I like it more than I should.
I roll my eyes and shoo him away with my hand. We both know my request will never be fulfilled. Donovan doesn’t play nice. He handles situations, takes care of things, and disposes of the trash.
“I’ll see you later.” He leaves me with a promise, and I try hard not to get sucked into it.
I deflate into the seat the moment the gate closes behind them.
What am I doing?!
“Is it safe to come out now?” Fabien asks as he sticks his head through the crack of the door.
And I can’t help but laugh, the heavy mood lifting.