Chapter Thirteen
Zoe
Even though he dropped a complete bombshell on me, I can't believe how happy I am.
Apparently not only was someone murdered at his company, but there's someone else trying a hostile takeover. Someone who will stop at nothing to get what they want. Damien had shown me a picture of the man and said that he may have seen me enter the building and might try to use me to get some leverage.
At first, I didn't understand what the hostile takeover would have to do with me. But he told me that his rival might try to cozy up to me for information, or to win me over, and things had cleared up.
I’m touched that Damien took the time to protect me and arm me with knowledge. I'm also a little bit uncomfortable that someone has it out for him, and by extension, might try something with - or to - me.
But it has been a few days and nothing adverse has happened.
In fact, everything has been oddly okay. Even my own personal concerns and doubts feel like they're melting away. And everything comes full circle back to me, being unable to believe how happy I am.
“You seem pretty deep in thought.” Damien slips an arm around my shoulders as we sit side by side on the couch in his office.Honestly, I think he might be the most amazing man I've ever met, and he's certainly a breath of fresh air after Jake.
Maybe I'm a little bit worried about what he told me about the sex club, but if that part of his life is over, what’s the harm in that? Honestly, it feels amazing that he's willing to tell me things like that. I'm glad he's willing to open up to me and share deep dark secrets he won’t let anyone else see.
“Just thinking about how amazing you are.” We've been talking a little bit about his father's death, and I’d asked why he’d been there so late.
That prompted him to respond too easily, “He often stayed late at work.”
“So it seems normal, but did you check and see if he had talked to anyone from the company that night?” Of course, my mind goes wild, wondering if somebody had called him in only to ambush him. And judging by the way his face lit up, he'd had a similar line of thought.
“I'll check and see if it’s something my PI can get a hold of.” I can tell by the tone of his voice that he doesn't hold out much hope, but there is a spark of curiosity there. I know that he feels like he's run into dead end after dead end trying to get information, and with so much time having passed every day it gets harder and harder to find new clues. But he’s resourceful and driven, a point I reminded him of that brought back that gleam in his eyes as we spoke.
I feel bad for the challenges and obstacles he's already been met with, but I hope that I can offer some fresh perspective and new ideas that will help him find the truth. Because whether his father was murdered or not, I know that Damien needs to get to the bottom of things. He's not going to quit until he knows for a fact that his dad was either murdered or died in an accident. And I'm here to help him see it through.
Even now, I think about the look in his eyes when he told me that night changed everything. I sense he wasn't too incredibly close to his dad, but he cares, and that's what's important. Maybe one day he'll tell me more secrets, but for now, I'm happy with what I know, and I'm here by his side to help him uncover the truth - whatever that may be.
Even now, there's something so soft in his voice as he squeezes my hand. “I really appreciate that you're here.”
“I’m happy to be here.” I'm not really sure what I believe regarding his father's death. I know that as far as he knows, there was never any evidence or motive for a crime. But I do know that I trust him, and if he believes it was murder, I'll follow him to the ends of the earth to help prove it and get justice.
I know how I'd feel if this was someone I loved or cared about, like my mom or my dad, and I feel a surge of sympathy and sadness.
“I feel very lucky that you came into my life that day on the cruise.”
“I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that alcohol might have brought someone near and dear into my life.” I can't hold back a laugh, and he chuckles at my words.
“So you're admitting I'm near and dear?” he says with a warm smile as he leans in and kisses me softly.
“Oh! We’re talking about you.” At my teasing tone, his smile widens, and he presses his forehead to mine. I melt into him, feeling his warmth. There's something so very intimate but comfortable about his company, and I'm happy when I’m with him. But it’s easy. Relationships have never been easy for me.
“I've never met anyone like you,” he says.
I exhale. “Oof. Do you mean that in a good way or a bad way?” In my defense, the statement really could go either direction.
“Definitely in a good way,” he says, before pressing his lips to mine again. My heart flutters and I kiss him back, loving the way his lips feel on mine. It's hard to articulate exactly how I feel about this man, because if I said love, that would be too much. But I definitely have a very deep feeling of respect. I enjoy his company. I like being around him. I'm happier when he's nearby. He makes me smile and feel warm and fuzzy. I honestly feel that, in every possible way, he is a positive influence on my life. Plus, his kisses drive me crazy.
He wraps his arms around me and deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of my mouth. I open for him and our tongues tumble and play as heat begins to reverberate through my being. I want him, more than ever. But my heart, body, and head are all at work because my brain says it's too much, too soon. My body wants more of him, and my heart wants intimacy.
Behind us, out the windows, the sun is setting, painting the sky orange, pink, and purple. For a while we'd been up on the roof, inhaling the fresh, crisp air and watching the clouds drift by. There's a knock at the door and I feel him tense.
“Can we just say nobody's home?” I ask, my lips brushing against his as we speak.
He chuckles and kisses me again. “Better not.” With that, he stands up and makes his way to the door. But before he can get there, it opens, and I see the man from the picture. I try to stay calm and casual, relaxed on the couch as the intruder’s gaze leaps from Damien to me.
“I didn’t realize you had... company .” The way this man says the word company sounds almost like a curse. I can't help but wonder what he's trying to insinuate - is he implying something disgusting? Instead of being cowed by his words, I casually take in his appearance, starting with his brown leather shoes up his business slacks, his dark button down and suit jacket, his narrow blue tie that makes his dark eyes look devilish.
He looks like a dressed-up demon trying to make a deal to steal someone's soul. Everything about him makes me want to avoid him. Instead, I straighten up and allow for a slight smile as Damien watches.
“Damien, it's so kind of you to take on charity causes.” I stand up and casually make my way toward Damien. “Who are you with?” I ask Cameron, who seems confused... and annoyed.
“Excuse me?” he says. “I’m Cameron of Cameron Enterprises, Black Industries biggest competitor.”
I give him another once over with slow eyes before meeting his gaze. “Oh. My mistake.” Let him chew on that thought for a little while and wonder what made me say those words in that order. I have no doubt that my direct challenge to his masculinity and sense of style will leave him reeling for a little while. And you know what? I don't even feel bad given everything that I know he has put Damien through.
Instead of seeming angry, upset, or even bothered by my words, he turns everything around. “I think you should go out for coffee with me.”
“I think I'd rather throw myself into traffic,” I say, lifting my chin.
His eyes narrow slightly as he lowers his chin, and I sense a smile flirting with the corners of his lips. This guy must be a glutton for punishment. “You're too lovely to be turned to jelly on the cement.”
“And you should really ask other people's permission before dragging them into your humiliation kink.” I say without missing a beat.
Beside me, Damien snorts and I watch Cameron’s eyes widen. I keep giving him an innocent smile. He's arrogant, rude, and obnoxious, and it's nice to be able to give back as good as he likes to dish. I don't want to give any room for him to misinterpret my reactions as interest. I want nothing to do with him, and I’m happy to be mean to prove that point.
But Damien seems to be done with the exchange. “Why are you here, Cameron?” he asks in a positively arctic tone.
“I think I'd rather keep talking about your friend here.” As Cameron says the words, he's eyeing me up and down with the hungry look that makes my stomach twist. I instinctively take a step to the side, almost behind Damien, who straightens up as if to protect me.
“I think she's made it clear she's not interested in talking to you.”
Cameron lifts his fingers and touches them to his temple. “Hence me saying I'd like to talk about your friend. She's pretty feisty. Is she single?”
“No, she's my girlfriend.” I'm relieved as Damien says the words, not because I want to define what this is between us, but because I can't help but feel like this will make me safer. Although a second thought makes me worry that it paints a target on my back.
Cameron's eyebrows raise a fraction of an inch. “Oh, really? She seems too smart to get tangled up with someone like you. Who knew you had such good taste in women?”
As Cameron says the words, Damien puts a protective arm around my shoulders. All at once, it comes to me that, if someone did kill Damien's dad, that person is probably someone he knows. Someone who hates him. Someone who wants to make him suffer. Someone like Cameron.
I feel positively sick as Cameron winks at me. “I hope he doesn't bore you to death by working all the time. But if you do get too bored, I can show you a better time.” The twisted grin on his face makes me want to hurl.
“Yeah, I’d still rather die, thanks,” I say.
Cameron seems to anticipate my response and returns to Damien with a nod. “Well, congratulations,” he says in a sarcastic tone. It's pretty obvious that he's anything but happy for Damien. “I'm happy for both of you.” It's very obvious he's lying, but I don’t give a damn.
I am absolutely disgusted by both his words and his attitude. For some reason he reminds me a lot of Jake, and I want to run far and fast away from him.
So, when he throws another wink in my direction, I have the very real desire to throw up. “But don't worry, I'm not giving up on you just yet.”
“I really wish you would,” I say in a sickly-sweet tone.
“Why are you here?” Damien seems intent on getting answers, but Cameron very obviously has no desire to give them. I don't doubt that this is just a ploy to get Damien off balance and see what chaos might come of that.
“Just remember I have more to offer you than he does. A lot more.” His grin leaves me feeling physically ill.
“Given that you have the personality of a damp napkin wrapped around a wilted cabbage leaf, I can only assume you’re talking about money, and honey, I’m not interested.” I'm really not sure how else to get him to take the hint. I don't think I've ever seen anyone else so stuck on themselves they can’t figure out they’re barking up the wrong tree.
Cameron makes his way to the door, but not before giving Damien a smug look. “Don't worry, everything will be clear soon enough.” His gaze ticks to me. “Soon you'll have all the time in the world to drive this woman away... when you’re not running this company into the ground anymore.”
An unreasonable anger surges through me with his words. Angry, I glance at Damien and see his jaw flex. I sense it's taking every bit of his strength not to flatten Cameron’s face with his fist. I can’t blame him.
Only when the door closes behind Cameron do I speak to Damien. “You were not kidding. He really has his heart set on a hostile takeover.”
But Damien already seems to have switched gears as he turns and walks behind his desk and sits down at the office chair. “Not just of my company, but of my whole life, including you,” he says, as if there’s some significance there. I don’t see what he means and give my head a slight shake.
“I don’t get it.”
He pauses, his gaze locking on mine. “I already know that Cameron would stop at nothing to get what he wanted to see if you have been hurting people.”
As he says those words, my mind goes back to the errant thought that it’s likely someone Damien knows who would have murdered his father. “Do you think he could have killed your father?”
Damien seems stunned for a moment, but shakes his head without hesitation. “No.”
His absolute refusal to even consider that idea bothers me, but he keeps talking as if I hadn’t interrupted him. “He's tried to hack into my system, steal my ideas, and even tried to steal my big clients. But beyond that, he hates me.”
“And he seems to want to step into your life in every way. He seems downright obsessed with you.” My mind is working a million miles a second, trying to figure out what I’m missing. “Is he the reason you're so bad at taking vacations? The reason you felt like you had to run your company even when you were on the cruise?” I can't imagine how stressful life must be if every second you're worried about someone trying to steal everything you've worked for right out from under you.
“None of that matters. He's dangerous and they worry what he might do to you. I should have dragged you into the middle of this.”
“But I did give him a lot of sass,” I say, and a smile crosses his lips.
“Yes, you did.”
“Did you see the look on his face?” I am proud of myself for the way I controlled that conversation and interaction. “I've never shut somebody down like that. It felt good.”
Damien nods his head. “I have officially turned you into a monster and feel horrible.”
I roll my eyes and wave a dismissive hand at him. “I did this all on my own, thank you very much.” I'm not about to let him take credit for my incredible sass. “On a serious note, why does Cameron hate you so much? What did you do to him?”
Damien suddenly seems very busy on the computer. “I've only ever tried to be civil and professional with him.”
Despite his strange actions, I feel like he's telling the truth. “So maybe he's just jealous of you, your success, and your happiness?”
“And my relationship with you,” he says, his gaze meeting mine.
I lift my shoulders.
“Don't dismiss what I'm saying. Cameron is the kind of man who wants what he can't have. And you just told him in no uncertain terms that he can't have you.” He suddenly seems very serious and a cold pang of fear buzzes in my gut. As a chill runs down my spine, I wonder if I'm truly in danger.
“I'm sorry that he's doing this to you. You should be able to live your life in peace without being harassed by him.” But there's another question floating around my brain. “Who let him in?”
“Felicity.”
As he says the woman's name, I feel a sudden jolt of surprise. There's an odd familiarity there that I don't want to think about.
“Why did she let him in?”
“Because I told her to.”
I don't understand his line of thinking, but I want to. “Why let him in?”
He hesitates for a moment and studies me as if he’s not sure he wants to share. “Because every time he speaks to me, he gives himself away. If I didn't speak to him, I wouldn't have any idea what he's planning to do next, and I'd much rather face the devil I know.”
There's something so cold and calculating in his tone I take a step back, feeling goosebumps rise across my skin. This is the Damien that answered the phone that first day I called. The one that left me worried our vacation selves and our real selves could never truly connect.
And for the first time, I wonder if I truly made a mistake.