40. Chapter Damian
I don’t know how to explain what has transpired these last seventy-two hours of my clusterfuck life. Let’s start by the fact that I poured my heart out to Aria, and damn it, I don’t regret it for one second. What transpired seconds after the happiest moment of my life has just been a shit show.
I got arrested.
I’m in fucking jail.
Why am I in jail? That’s the biggest clusterfuck of it all. I’m the prime suspect for the stolen painting that happened in Rome almost a year ago. Apparently, they’ve been looking into me after they got a couple of anonymous tips that I was the mastermind behind the heist .
Listen, I’m a ruthless businessman. I’ve pulled my fair share of tricks over the years but stealing is not one of them .
The first twenty-four hours were hell . All I could see every time I closed my eyes was Aria’s face, drained of color. Lost. Confused. It fucking shattered my heart.
The following forty-eight hours was me, in a interrogation room, two FBI agents drilling me into admitting guilt for something I didn’t fucking do. After much back and forth between the authorities, my lawyer, and me, they got enough grounds to get a warrant approved to search the gallery.
Which leads us to today. Seventy-two painful hours later, I’m getting out on bail. I don’t have to present myself in front of a judge until later this month, so it’s just a matter of proving my fucking innocence. But none of that matters to me, I know I’m innocent. That will be easy to prove.
All I want to do is see her . Hug her . Kiss her . Let her sweet scent envelop me. They didn’t allow me to see anyone but my lawyer, so I have no idea what I’m walking into. I just hope she’ll hear me out.
Liam sits outside in the waiting room as they hand me my things— keys, phone, wallet. I don’t even bother looking at my phone because it doesn't have any charge, which is fucking inconvenient, and there’s only one thing in my mind.
Aria. I need to talk to her. No . I need to see her .
Liam is talking on the phone, but hangs up quickly as he greets me, “Romano.”
I nod. “Hawkins. What’s the update?”
“How about we go to Vortex, sit down, and talk over bourbon?”
That is the absolute last place I want to be. I can already envision all the elites with their claws out, trying to find out why I got arrested and already plotting how to take advantage of this and take me down for good.
“Get straight to the fucking point, Hawkins. The last place I want to be is Vortex.”
He sighs. “They found the painting.”
My shoulders relax. “Good. Fucking where? So we can put this shit to rest.”
He purses his lips. “They found it in the basement of your gallery.”
My world is thrown upside down when those words come out of his mouth. He keeps talking, but I completely tune him out. I don’t even know where to start grasping what the fuck has happened these last couple of days.
“...prints,” he finishes.
I laugh humorlessly, running my fingers through my hair in exasperation. “I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t hear one single thing you said.”
“The painting has your prints all over it. ”
I put my hands on my face and make a wiping motion, trying to clean away the frustration and murmur, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Listen, Romano. I’m your lawyer, and I will defend you until the end of time, but I’m your friend first.” His voice drops an octave, whispering ever so slightly, “Did you do it?”
I glare at him in disbelief. “Of course, I didn’t do it,” I spit. “I’m being set up, man. That’s the only reasonable explanation.”
He nods in understanding. “I believe you, but we have work to do.”
“I need you to make a stop first.” If I have to wait one more second without seeing or talking to Aria, I’m going to lose my shit. I need her. She grounds me.
“You should know… Aria’s here. She’s outside. She has been here day in and day out. You have a good woman on your side.”
Knowing she’s here makes my shoulders instantly relax. She’s not just a good woman, she’s the fucking best. In a world where I have shut everyone out of my life to be completely alone, she found a way in. She has—little by little— put the broken pieces of my life together, giving them a new meaning.
I sprint outside, frantically looking around for her. And then I spot her, sitting on the sidewalk. God . She looks so beautiful. Call me a lovesick fool, but the three days apart were the longest days of my life.
Her eyes gleam with excitement as she gets up and runs toward me, throwing her arms around my shoulders, and hugging me tightly. “Oh, Damian. Thank God.”
I hug her back and instantly feel at ease. I hide my nose at the crook of her neck, letting the scent I’ve correlated to peace, calmness, and tranquility envelop me.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers, her voice laced with emotion.
“Hey, hey. I’m okay. I’m here now. It’s okay, Tesoro .” I kiss her softly. God, I missed her soft lips. Her soft hands. All of her .
“The gallery is flooded with FBI agents now.” She sighs. “Damian—”
“I didn’t do it,” I blurt out.
I need to make sure she knows I didn’t do it. It would break my heart to think she believes I’m capable of something like this. I’m known for being a ruthless businessman, doing what I can to be at the top, but that’s not the real me, and I know she knows this. She’s the only one that has been able to see me for, well— me . Not only that, I would never stoop so low and do something so reckless.
She takes a step back, surprise plastering her face. “I know. I know you . You would never do anything like that. ”
I sigh with relief. “God, these have been the worst three days of my life.” I shake my head, closing my eyes in relief. “I’m so fucking glad you’re here.”
She grabs my face, then waits until I open my eyes to speak. “Of course. I’m here for you. Always .”
“I need to go with Liam, set up a plan in motion to get ready for the indictment.”
“I can go with you.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. It will probably take a while. But I’ll drop by your place later, stay over.”
Her eyes gleam as she smiles. “I’d like that.”
God, I love this woman so much it fucking hurts.
After meeting with my lawyer and deciding I’m going to plead not guilty and hope for the fucking best as we gather evidence, I arrive home to take a much-needed shower and pick up some clothes to stay over at Aria’s.
As the elevator of my condo opens and I walk in, I notice I’m not alone. There’s someone in my living room. I know this because they’re… humming .
“Who’s there?” I yell from the foyer, walking toward the humming noise.
The person is sitting in a chair in front of the window, overlooking the busy city life. “Oh, you’re here. Great,” says the familiar voice.
My hand trembles with anger when the last person I want to fucking see right now turns around.
Alex Motherfucking Brown.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I stride toward him. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Too long to explain,” he replies with a maniacal grin.
My knuckles turn white with how hard I’m clenching my fists, trying my best to hold myself back. I could just punch this motherfucker right now. I have so much pent up anger, that throwing a few punches would do the trick to relieve some very annoying stress.
“ Why . Are . You . Here ?” I ask through gritted teeth.
He stands up, buttoning his suit. “Rough couple of days?” He tilts his head.
I thin my lips and glare at him, opting for silence.
He sarcastically snaps his fingers, as if he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, that’s right ! I’m the one who tipped the feds.” He laughs. “God, I didn’t know it was going to take them that long to arrest you. I guess the system really is broken, huh?”
A wave of nausea settles at the pit of my stomach as anger keeps vibrating throughout my whole body. It’s suddenly too hot here. The place feels so fucking small I feel like I’m going to pass out. Is this what panic feels like?
“Cat got your tongue? It’s okay. I’ll keep talking. I have many things to say.” Alex grins as he circles me. “See, Damian, I know you never saw me as a threat. But I just let you see what you wanted to see.”
We have similar builds, but I’m about four inches taller than him. That doesn’t stop him from trying to stand all tall and macho in front of me.
“After all, I’m a nobody. Right? Isn’t that what you said?” he snarls.
My ears are ringing, and I’m trying my fucking best to stay composed, to not show weakness. To put up the facade I learned many moons ago. The anxiety is creeping in slowly, but surely, and I’m trying my best to shove it down and fucking drown it.
With a bored expression, I look down on him. He may only be four inches shorter than me, but with one single, determined look I can make it feel like more. That’s how you dominate your enemies. But the shift in demeanor doesn’t come. He looks… amused. He looks like there’s nothing in this world that can bring him down, and that just tells me one thing.
I am utterly fucked.
“I told you once I was going to bring you down to your knees, and that was a fucking promise.”
“What do you want?” I say hoarsely .
“You will plead guilty.”
I laugh humorlessly. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m doing that.”
“ You will plead guilty ,” he repeats. “Otherwise, you will find out the lengths I will go to make sure you do it.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Oh, that's a promise,” His eyes gleam with mischief. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to Aria, now, would you?”
My heart drops.
No.
He wouldn’t dare.
“You’re bluffing,” I challenge.
“I can promise you I’m not,” he replies, his tone unwavering.
“Aria is your friend. What is wrong with you?” I ask in disbelief.
He growls. “She was my friend, but the bitch decided to side with you, and now she’s collateral damage. I tried to save her. I told you to fire her and you didn’t listen.”
The threats. It was this fucking idiot all along?
The fact that he calls her a bitch doesn’t escape me. My hands take a life of their own and I grip him by the collar, closing the distance between us.
Through gritted teeth, I say, “Why are you doing this? You were the one that stole that painting? And now you’re blaming it on me? Why ? ”
He laughs in disbelief, but makes no effort to escape my grip. “After all these years, you still don’t get it, do you? I’m the one who stood by your father’s side, day in and day out, working on the gallery. He taught me everything I know, and what do you do? You just take over the place after he dies, a place you don’t deserve.”
I push him, exasperated. “I’m his son!” I yell at the top of my lungs, my voice hoarse. “The place belonged to me. He even acknowledged that by leaving it to me when he died, Alex.” I sigh in defeat. “You need to accept that.”
“I don’t need to accept shit, brother .”
My gaze locks on his. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
I stare at him with a blank expression. It takes me what feels like a lifetime to process the words he just spat out. Brother? What does that even fucking mean?
A maniacal laugh escapes me. I’m laughing uncontrollably now. Shoulders shaking, my eyes brimming with tears.
Oh, I’m losing it. I’m so losing my shit right now.
“Alex, I don’t know what you’re plotting, but my brother? This is desperate, even for you.”
Alex takes a step back, smirking. “And why would I make up something like that?”
“Beats me! But you are not my fucking brother. You’re talking like a crazy person right now!” I'm yelling now, running through the motions, trying my best to escape the feeling of dread and realization.
Deafening silence falls between us, and my gaze locks on him. All of him .
He’s shorter than me, sure, but not by that much. His hair is more light brown, whereas mine is black like my mother’s. Our eyes though, are the exact same ones. That unmistakably deep green, like the lush canopy of an ancient forest.
The same eyes as my father’s.
Fuck. How didn’t I see this sooner?
Alex is about two years younger than me if I remember correctly, so it had to have happened right after we moved to the States.
“You and I both know that I was more of a son to him than you ever were. So imagine how I felt when he left you something that belonged to me .”
I wince at the words that feel like a shot to my heart. I know better than anyone that my father didn’t care about me. He made sure I knew every fucking day of my life. It fucking wrecked me to see he bonded with Alex over art, something I loved as much as him, maybe even more. How he taught Alex everything he knew—which, at this point, I don’t know if I should feel thankful that it wasn’t me, knowing now how Alex turned out. It still fucking hurts, though. I never understood why I was cast aside. This is fucking why? All because he knocked up God knows who and had a guilty conscience and decided to raise only one of his sons. The one that was most similar to him, nonetheless.
I wonder if Mamma knows. I wonder if maybe this is why she never got in the middle of it, because she was dealing with her own hurt.
Alex is just like our father. Filled with anger; envy; hatred. That’s why my father was never able to take the business to the next level, like he wanted to. Because he refused to show emotion and his human side—if he ever had any—when it was necessary. Even the most ruthless men in the world have a human side and are not afraid to show it. Not showing any, at all, is what makes you fucking weak. It took me so long to realize that, but now I fucking know better. And I let my father convince me along the way that I was good for nothing. That I wouldn’t make it. That I was weak. When in reality? He was just fucking deflecting.
There’s no point in dwelling in the fucking past that has been drowning me for so fucking long. What can I do about that now? I’ve made my life’s mission to do everything my father couldn’t do. I’m a goddamn billionaire. I made sure to set up my life. To be successful. All just to spite him, and that got me nowhere. Alone. Sad. Empty.
Until I met her. Aria is all that matters now. And I need to protect her. If there’s any human side to Alex, he’ll see it too. This is between us. There’s no reason for her to be involved in something like this.
“Alex, don’t do this,” I plead.
He laughs, striding to the elevator, me hot on his heels. He presses the button as silence blooms in the room. You can cut the tension with a knife.
The ding of the elevator cuts the deafening silence.
As Alex stands inside the elevator and the doors start to close at a painfully slow pace, he says, “ Tick-Tock, brother. You have a choice to make.”