Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Robyn
A n hour to the very minute later, there was a sharp rap on my door.
I stepped back from the mirror and took in the final product. The emerald silk dress clung to my body like a serpent’s second skin.
“It’s open.”
The door swung wide, revealing Damon as he filled its frame.
“Damn, Robber,” he rumbled like his vocal cords were made of cobblestones. “You look beautiful.”
Heat eroded hate for a brief moment, lingering with a trail of shivers left by his dark stare as it drank me in. And I did the same, roaming over his exquisite reflection in the mirror. His dark hair draped perfectly to one side, the slightest wave in the front begging the thread of fingers through its swell. His black tuxedo fit to perfection, a bow tie pillared the cleft prominence of his chin .
I forced myself to swallow. Did he have to look this good? Like sin in a suit?
One hand was casually slung into his pocket, though his expression was nothing short of feral, making me think his thought followed the vein of my own.
I didn’t know what was worse: to desire his possessive want or to want him in return. No, there was no worse. Both were lunacy.
I spun and asked, “Where are we going?”
His jaw flexed with his reluctance. “A Christmas party.”
“GrowTech’s Christmas gala?”
As soon as I opened the gift box, I suspected what was happening tonight—and why Nonna had been off. I’d kept detailed tabs on Belmont and the public goings-on of GrowTech. Every year, I watched all kinds of people lured to Belmont’s extravagant holiday party to mingle, awares and unawares, with the criminals he consorted with.
The party was tonight, but it was invite-only. It was nothing more than a gross display of wealth and the extravagance of excess, so I’d never considered going—or sneaking in. Belmont was too smart to keep anything incriminating that close with so many people around.
But apparently Damon believed otherwise.
“And if I say no?”
I frowned. “Then I’m taking off this dress.”
His nostrils flared, the silver in his eyes burnishing black. “Do you promise?”
“That’s not a no,” I said flatly and pushed through the doorway past him, ignoring the heat that licked my skin like hot coals where my arm brushed his chest.
My heels clicked on the floor, up the stairs, almost as annoying as the fervent strum of my pulse knowing Damon was right behind me. Instead of the distance he’d kept dulling my reaction to him, the desire I felt only intensified. My nipples pebbled instantly against the silk. My core clenched, and I grew wet just from the stroke of his gaze along my bare back.
“Patrick,” I greeted the large Irishman with a smile but only earned a grunt in response as he opened the back door of the black Mercedes.
I climbed inside, sliding as far over on the leather seats as possible as Damon settled in behind me.
“Did I do something to him?” I wondered once the door was shut, trying to distract myself from how he filled the space, his leg so close to mine no matter how far I scooted next to the other door.
Damon grinned. “He doesn’t like that you’re better at his puzzle than he is.”
I gaped. “That’s his puzzle?”
Here I thought it was Damon’s, not the large, reticent bodyguard.
“Pat loves his puzzles.” Damon ran his long fingers along the rim of his hat, the subtle, seductive movement catching my attention. Even in a tux, my husband was never without his fedora.
I hummed. “Well, I guess you’ll have to apologize then.”
“Me?” His head cocked.
“Well, it’s certainly not my fault I was left in a house with nothing else to do but his puzzle.”
His nostrils flared. “I could give you plenty of things to do, Robber.”
When I turned and glared at him, he had the nerve to wink. And that wink had the nerve to have a direct line straight down my chest, through my stomach, and right to my clit, a burst of pleasure arcing through me.
“I prefer activities where my clothes are on. ”
He chuckled. “On or off…I don’t recall you having a preference before.”
I clenched my legs and directed my stare out the window, forcing my mind straight past the tempting detour down memory lane. “That was fifteen years ago. A lot has changed—everything has changed since then.”
“You still put hot sauce on everything.”
I gritted my teeth. “Are you doing inventory?” I always put the bottles back in the exact same spot I found them in the cabinet, but it was hard to hide their use when I was the only one using them.
His deep chuckle bounced through the back seat. “Nonna was…distraught.”
I grimaced. I added hot sauce to almost every meal she made, and I tried to do it discreetly so she wouldn’t think there was something wrong; there wasn’t. Her food was amazing. I just liked things spicy. And I couldn’t bear another look of disappointment from her grandmotherly face. It was bad enough she didn’t hide her dismay every time she saw me wearing the clothes I’d arrived in.
“I’ll tell her?—”
“I already did.”
My mouth snapped shut, my hand tightening on my knee in irritation. “You don’t know me, Damon.”
“You still get Chinese food from the same restaurant we used to. Your same order, according to the owner.”
“Liking the same food is trivial.”
He shifted, his body angling toward me in a way that was too welcoming to be anything but threatening.
“For the last decade, you’ve run a covert ring of information in the city, employing maids and janitors and housekeepers and dog walkers, taxi and Uber drivers, bellman and waitresses and working girls, all feeding you valuable pieces of intelligence about the city’s legitimized criminals so you can deliver vigilante justice.”
A shiver trickled along the length of my spine like he’d just dragged an ice cube down my back.
“You’ve already mentioned your…awareness of my activities,” I said stiffly.
“I know you’ve recruited women to work for you—women who also want to see bad men punished. Women you’ve saved from abuse and sex trafficking.”
“Because Mara told you.”
Mara was one of those girls who I’d asked to help me expose a sex trafficking ring run by a local faction of the Chinese Triad. She’d been found out and imprisoned to be given as a gift to Uzair Shazad, the son of Pakistan’s most infamous warlord.
That was when Damon had rescued her. Mara was the reason Damon had shown up to the garage a week ago—to bring her back to us.
And to use her as an olive branch to lure me to him.
This was what I’d tried to explain to Nonna earlier. Damon might’ve saved her and her daughter just like he’d saved Mara, but that didn’t mean his actions hadn’t been self-serving in the end.
“Mara didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know,” he rumbled in a way that left me no choice but to believe him. “I also know your brothers joined your vigilante quest.”
“Yes,” I snapped, my annoyance bubbling over. “So, you know that we hunt down criminals who fly under…or over the radar…just like you. It’s what I do, not who I am.”
“It’s what you do because of who you are,” he countered. “Because you lost your parents—your family—to one of those very kinds of criminals, and you can’t stand the thought of letting them or any others go unpunished. ”
I rarely talked about my parents’ deaths beyond the basic facts. Sure, my adopted family saw the effects of the trauma; they weathered them and comforted me as best they could, but it was only to this man that I’d revealed the depth and breadth of my grief.
At the time, I told myself it was because I needed him to understand my fury—to understand the root of my vengeance. I told myself I needed my cause to become his. Only once Damon was gone did I realize I’d told him simply because I trusted him. Because the way I felt about him was unlike anything I’d felt for anyone before. Because I wanted to let him in.
I hadn’t sold my soul to the devil, I’d given it to him gift-wrapped with my trauma, my broken pieces, my body, and my heart. And now, I paid the price.
“You’re right. I can’t stand the idea of any criminal going unpunished. Including you.”
His heavy exhale filtered through the air. “Trust me, Robber, I haven’t gone unpunished,” he said, his tone low and smooth like a swallow of whiskey. And then his leg brushed mine. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t. I was frozen by what he said next.
“Every day I’ve spent without you has been worse than any prison, more damning than any sentence, and more painful than any torture.”
My jaw dropped, his agonizing tenderness gripping my heart so firmly it stopped beating for a single, precious moment. A moment to feel like the man I’d fallen in love with still existed—had always existed and had always loved me. But then it returned to the blow of reality.
It didn’t matter how high his declarations promised to sweep me, they would only get so far before the burn of his betrayal melted their wings .
It hasn’t been enough, I wanted to say back, but I didn’t want to tread any farther down this path. Parts of me wanted him too much still—parts I didn’t trust with whatever vindications he devised. With whatever silver-tongued reason he had for betraying me and breaking my heart.
I didn’t trust myself to not fall under his spell again and risk turning the already-broken pieces of my heart into dust.
Gritting my teeth, I was determined to remain silent until we got to the party, but of course, Damon had other ideas.
“You still go to the scene of your parents’ accident every year on the anniversary of their death,” he went on, his voice dragging a rung lower. “White roses on the guardrail of the highway and another set at their grave.”
No. My nails dug into the silk dress, threatening to puncture holes to reach my skin.
“Thunderstorms still keep you up at night. Not because you’re afraid, but because it was storming the night they were run off the road.”
The tightness in my throat ballooned with his unwanted observations. “Stop,” I croaked.
“You don’t keep any photographs in your apartment”— which he knew because I’d taken him there— “or any of the other houses and condos where you live, even the residence you keep on your brothers’ garage compound”— how did he— “because since their death you’ve never felt safe enough to let anywhere feel like home.”
I blinked quickly, trying to erase the burn in my eyes.
He was wrong. I had, once, felt at home. And he was the one who quickly disabused me of that fairy tale.
“Enough,” I warned, my voice struggling for sound, my hand gripping the door, about ready to claw my way out of the car.
“And the reason you never told anyone about me is?— ”
“Because who would want to admit to their greatest mistake?” I whipped back to him, my stare connecting to his like an audible slap.
I was tired of this. Tired of his emotional autopsy. Tired of one more reminder that the man who knew me best was the one who’d hurt me the worst.
“Who would want to admit to being married to the world’s worst criminal?”
Damon lifted his hand to his chest, feigning a wounded demeanor. “The worst, Robber? I don’t think I’m the worst.” White sliced through his curved lips. “The most infamous, maybe, but not the worst.”
“And what about you? Disappearing for hours—whole days at a time with no explanation? Making demands—decisions—plans without any warning or insight?” I batted my eyelashes sweetly, though I was being anything but. “I say you haven’t changed at all, but we both know I never knew you in the first place.”
My gaze darted to him, a thrill pulsing through me when I saw his easy expression crack with a single flex of his jaw.
“I’ve been arranging our invitation to this party all week,” he said, his explanation for his absence coming through tightly held teeth. The hand he’d brought to his chest now gripped the top of his hat on his lap, his fingers denting the fragile fabric. “In spite of your high opinion of my infamy, I’m not exactly persona grata to Belmont or his company.”
“I’m surprised you even wanted to bother with an invitation.”
“I prefer to maintain legitimacy wherever possible, especially when my intent is to offer my services.”
The air in the car stilled, the atoms pausing in their flight.
This was the most he’d said about his plan to bring down Belmont, and it wasn’t what I was expecting. Of course, it wasn’t. Why would it be? Why would anything about Damon Remington be what I expected? And yet, for some reason, my mind tacked itself to the idea that Damon would use all his devious little henchmen to launch an attack on Belmont and bring him down in one fell swoop.
Not offer the man I hated second-most in the world his assistance.
“You’re going to help him?” My fist balled, my nails digging into the skin of my palm.
“It’s part of my plan, Robber,” he said, dragging his hand along his jaw like he could wipe away the regret he had for telling me. “And if it’s going to work, you’re going to have to trust me.”
I laughed, a sudden burst of sound breaking from my chest like shattered glass. And when he tensed beside me, his head dipping ever so slightly, I knew nothing else needed to be said; the last man I would ever trust was him.
The conversation ended there because the car had come to a stop. Outside Damon’s window, a grand staircase led up to the porticoed entrance of Belmont’s mansion. One of them. The one he used for show. Where he really lived was far more secluded and much more guarded, I had to assume, because I’d never been able to find it.
“As ever, Robber, I’ve only tried to protect you,” Damon swore, again stroking the weakest part of me that ached for his touch.
My heart stumbled, my breath snagged, and then I caught myself before the hook latched in too deep.
“All these years, and I see your definition of betrayal hasn’t changed either.”
I reached for the handle, the back seat of the car suddenly felt far too small for the two of us to be in it. Before I could pull open the door, it locked, and then Damon’s hand was on my wrist, holding me back.
I hissed. “Don’t?—”
“What was our deal, Robber?” he demanded, his voice cold and unrelenting. “I need to hear you say it.”
My lips parted, understanding unfurling the knot in my chest. He worried I was going to go in there, see Belmont, and lose my mind.
“I’ve been waiting to take down Belmont for two decades, Damon. I’m not going to let my emotions jeopardize that.” Not like they do with you.
The edge of his jaw sharpened in frustration. “Say it, Robber.”
My lip curled, and I released my breath slowly, reminding myself this was the deal I’d struck.
“I promise to obey.” The words unlatched his hand from my wrist, and the doors unlocked.
Hiding my loathing for Belmont would be a walk in the park compared to what it took to hide the way I still desperately wanted my husband. At least with Belmont, I knew one day my vengeance would be satisfied. But wanting Damon…the day I succumbed to that would be the day I signed my heart back over to the devil who broke it.