Chapter 36

A s soon as I step back into Damien’s penthouse, I move with a single-minded purpose.

I nearly jog to my bedroom, grabbing my iPad from the bathroom counter, my fingers flying across the screen as I pull up the Find My iPhone app.

My breath holds as I wait for the location to register.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I laugh—a bitter, disbelieving sound that bubbles up from my chest.

Of course.

The blinking dot is at a location I know far too well.

Adrian’s fucking brownstone.

The same goddamn brownstone he lived in when I was with him.

Spoiled little rich boy. Living in one of his family’s many properties, still playing at being powerful when the only real thing he has is his family fortune.

My fingers tighten around the device as I hit the button to report the phone stolen.

It’ll lock down immediately, preventing any access.

A sharp breath pushes through my lips as I lean against the counter, my mind racing.

I pray to fucking God Adrian hasn’t been able to unlock it. He could wreak havoc by accessing The Ledger app, my contacts.

Damien.

My chest tightens, but I have a job to do. Shaking my head and focusing, I pull up my messages. My fingers move fast, typing out a quick text to Eve.

ELENA: I’m okay.

I hesitate, then add:

ELENA: Don’t call. I’ll explain soon.

She’s going to hear about the Code Red-One.

Hell, everyone will.

When a companion calls for an extraction, it sets off alarms across the entire company. It’s rare—almost unheard of—but when it happens, the protocol is ironclad.

The moment that code is called in, the entire Black Ledger network mobilizes.

The only priority? Get the companion out.

Eve will know I’m safe now, that I’ll be out soon. But it doesn’t stop the unease curling in my stomach.

I’ve likely only got minutes until The Ledger security gets here, so I hastily throw a few key items in my carry bag. It’s already half-packed with clothes I didn’t wear at the Hamptons, and I don’t waste time emptying it.

I toss my iPad on top and shove my purse inside.

Zipping it up, I set it near the elevator door.

My hands are shaking, and my mouth is like the desert.

A strand of thoughts, one after the other, races through my mind.

Once I’m back at The Ledger, we’ll fix this.

Someone can help me with Adrian, and I can explain everything to Damien.

He’ll understand.

He loves me. I know he does.

My shaking legs carry me to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. My half-eaten cheesecake still takes up space on one of the shelves.

The memory of Damien, the piano, eating that cheesecake—it makes my chest tighten.

Why the fuck didn’t I just come clean about Adrian right away?

Unscrewing the cap, I gulp a third of the water, wincing when my lip burns like it’s been split open again.

Touching two fingers to my mouth, I pull away, seeing blood again.

That fucking asshole. I hope Lucian beats his ass to a pulp when he hears Adrian assaulted me.

I blot my lip a few times, clearing the small leak of blood until I see no more, then place the cool water bottle against my hot, swelling lip.

The elevator doors slide open, and before I can even process the sound, Damien storms through them like a force of nature. His fury crackles in the air, thick and suffocating, like the atmosphere before a lightning strike.

My stomach drops.

“Dam—” I barely have time to set the water bottle down before his voice slams into me, sharp and unforgiving.

"Where the fuck is he?"

I flinch. What?

"Damien—"

"Is he still here?" His voice is a growl, his steps heavy as he stalks toward me, his eyes like burning steel. "Did you think I wouldn’t fucking find out? That I wouldn’t put it all together?"

I stumble back, my pulse hammering in my ears. This isn’t happening.

His chest is rising and falling fast, hands flexing at his sides, like he’s trying to restrain himself, like he’s barely keeping himself from putting his fist through the nearest wall.

"Damien, what are you talking about?" I breathe, my voice uneven, my mind racing.

His laugh is low, humorless. Dangerous.

"Don’t fucking lie to me," he bites out, closing the distance between us in three slow, measured steps. His anger is controlled—too controlled. Like he’s hanging on by a thread.

"I saw the pictures, Elena," he spits my name like it’s poison. "I fucking heard you."

My breath catches. Oh my God.

No. No, no, no.

This isn’t happening.

“You told me everything about these next two weeks would be a lie.”

He sniffs, and even that is filled with resentment. “I guess that was the only truth that came out of your mouth this whole time.”

I try to speak, try to force out something—anything—that will slow him down, make him listen. "Damien, please, just let me?—"

"Explain?" he snaps. His eyes are dark, sharp. Unrelenting. "Explain what? That you’ve been playing me since the fucking beginning? That you and Adrian had this whole thing mapped out before I even set eyes on you?"

My panic spikes. This is all getting away from me.

He’s spiraling, his rage blinding him, twisting everything until he can’t see the truth.

I shake my head, my throat tightening. "That’s not what happened?—"

"Are you fucking proud of yourself?" His voice lowers to something almost guttural, something raw and aching beneath the rage. "Did you two laugh about it afterward? Did he fuck you in celebration after you signed the contract? Or did you wait to fuck him here in my goddamn home?"

His words cut through me, sharp and deep, making me physically recoil.

"Stop it." I’m surprised by the strength in my tone, despite the claws of my panic choking me. My vision blurring. "That’s not?—"

"Did you like hearing him taunt me when he answered my call?" he demands suddenly, and I freeze.

Oh God.

I don’t dare look back because if I do, I know I’ll shatter.

His voice is low and controlled when he finally speaks.

"Let them go."

The last thing I see is Damien.

His face—hard, unforgiving. His eyes—a storm.

Then he’s gone.

The elevator descends without a sound.

I press my lips together, swallowing the sob that threatens to break free because I know—I just lost the first man I’ve fallen in love with.

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