Chapter 11
This is goingto fuck you up in more ways than you think, Drea. Dont think Ill be there to pick up the pieces when it all blows up in your fucking face.
To emphasize his words, Brandon drops a stack of magazines in front of me. Either my name or my face, sometimes both, appears in all of them.
The first one has been left on top intentionally for me to see. The cover shows a clear photo of Damiens figure coming out of my apartment.
Whats worse is that when I look at him, I can only think of how fucking attractive he is. His dark sunglasses are on and his unruly hair is being tousled by the wind. His jacket is slung over his forearm as he walks away from my building.
He looks like a model, far more handsome and more desirable than any man I’ve seen before. His handsomeness is not at all forced, but on the contrary, it exudes from him naturally, like breathing.
Curious, I pick up the magazine, though I know in advance what it’s going to read. The news is circulating all over social media.
We’ve been the talk for at least a month—social media, magazines, blogs.
We’re the couple of the moment, which came to light when the paparazzi spotted us kissing while I was getting out of Damiens car.
My Damien. The thought makes me smile.
Since then, they haven’t stopped following us. But unlike other times, I dont mind the gossip.
On the contrary, I’m excited that they know we’re together.
The knowledge that our relationship is now public knowledge makes it feel even more tangible, like its finally sunk in.
I hope the tabloid cover up and see us kissing outside Club Allure.
Brandon huffs, his face turning red. Youre being completely unreasonable, Andrea. This relationship with Damien is clouding your judgment.
I cross my arms, digging in my heels. No, Brandon. For once, Im seeing things clearly.
Brandon looks indignant, and I know he must be. His mood has been unbearable since Damien and I started dating. I don’t care, though, because, for the first time in a long time, Im happy.
And things are good with us.
The sex is mind-blowing, like nothing Ive ever experienced before. But its more than that. Theres a deep connection between us that makes me feel safe and confident in a way I never have.
When Im with him, its like hes my safety net, always there to catch me if I fall. I dont have to be afraid or walk on eggshells. I can just be myself, the real me.
Of course, thats causing some tension with Brandon. Hes not used to me questioning him or standing up for myself. Weve been arguing more and more lately because Im not just blindly following his orders anymore.
He shakes his head, lips pressed into a thin line. Well discuss this later. You have a show to prepare for.
Its been about a month of dating Damien, and Im in a constant state of bliss. The carbs from the meals hes taught me to cook, the mind-blowing sex, and then composing music together afterward—its like a dream.
Fine.
My gaze rises to meet Brandons. He’s done nothing but berate me for my taste in men. At first, I was patient, remembering all the times that he was looking out for what was best for me, but at this point, its starting to irritate me.
Brandon can probably see it in my face, because he sighs and takes off his glasses, sitting down across from me at the edge of the coffee table.
What dont you understand, Drea? All of this affects your image. It makes you look like youre the kind of dumb girl who falls at the feet of the first bad boy who pays attention to you.
His words hurt me more than they should because of how he says them, making me think he shares that opinion. But I wont let that change my mind, Im making my own decisions from this point forward.
The press can say what they want. Theyll eventually get tired of the story, or they wont, but Im sick of it. I’m fed up with allowing them to control my life.
The press doesnt control your life, Drea, but they do influence your career. And this will affect it, for sure.
Then let it! I burst out, dropping the magazine. Im sick of having to keep up an appearance. I’m tired of pretending to be who Im not, Brandon. I want to sing, compose, and write about whatever comes from my heart. The public will either love or hate it, but if they reject me, Ill know it wasnt because I was a phony. Id rather be hated for being authentic than loved for being a liar.”
My words, laden with fury and hurt, stop Brandon in his tracks, his eyes widening as if hes seeing a stranger before him.
Drea, youre playing with fire. Why are you so willing to risk everything for a man?
Not a man, but a billionaire. The owner of the most famous club in New York and owner of one of the most influential record labels in the country. A man who is very serious and cares deeply about her and her career.
The words are not mine, but Damiens, whos standing in the entrance of the studio. His intense eyes are fixed on mine.
I never tire of seeing him outfitted in all black. But paired with the glare on his face, he looks sinister. Like every rumor and account that I read about Damien McAllister is the truth.
Thats hes ruthless.
That he takes what he wants.
That he has more zeros in his bank account than Ill see in a lifetime.
But even with all of that, all I see is the man who sits at the piano and writes music for hours with me. Or the man who never tires of making late-night ice cream runs.
I fucking love him. All of him.
Evidently, Brandon is also surprised by his appearance, but not in a good way. What are you doing here? I asked for a change of recording studio so I wouldnt have to run into you.
I know, Damien admits in a relaxed voice, no trace of uneasiness in his voice. And thats why I decided it was best to buy the record label in order to avoid these little incidents.
Did you do... what?
We croak in unison. Me from awe. Brandon for shock.
Brandon and I look at him, open-mouthed, as Damien sits beside me on the couch. He drapes an arm behind my back across the backrest as he settles his feet on the coffee table.
He leans in and kisses the inside of my neck and I melt with an audience watching.
Damien sits back as if his announcement was nonincidental. Buying the record label is a big fucking deal. Especially since the label is threatening to void my contract—thanks to the Landon situation and now the Damien rumors.
In a matter of moments, Damiens casual announcement flips the power dynamics in the room. I turn to Brandon, whose jaw hangs open like a broken gate. I can practically see the gears turning in his head as he processes the implications. Hes no longer the one calling the shots; Damien is. Technically, hes our boss now. Both of us.
Before you go issuing a complaint to anyone, you can relax. For now, I wont intervene in how you handle Andreas career. Youve done a good job, but well have to talk about relaxing your restrictions for her.
This is— Brandon’s face is as red as a tomato, and his squeal is cut off.
Wonderful, isnt it? Damiens sarcasm drips from his words like honey laced with poison. And now, if you dont mind, the star of the hour and I need some time alone. You can go get a coffee. Ill have you called when I need you.
Damien pulls me even closer to his body, as if were two magnets that cant get close enough to each other. His grip is firm, possessive, and I can feel the tension in his muscles as he holds me. I know hes not just reacting to Brandons words, but to the situation as a whole.
Brandon is furious, that much is obvious. He looks at me, and for an instant I worry that hes going to charge Damien.
But then he takes a breath, and, after a moment, he stomps off.
Why did you buy the label? I turn in his embrace.
Its my way of taking care of you. I know I cant undo the past, but I can damn well make sure youre provided for in the present.
I dont need you to take care of me. Besides, I thought your thing was taking care of Club Allure.
I have a portfolio of businesses. Most of my money is invested in entertainment and music-related ventures, Damien shrugs. But with Club Allure, its different. That’s more like a family business.
I nod, Ive seen them together. Its the kind of friendships I wish I had. But Ive never found the time between touring, and recording. But being around Damien and his friends makes me want to get to know their wives better.
I stare at Damien, trying to process what hes just told me. He bought my record label. The entire thing. Just like that.
My mind races. What does this mean for the other artists? The employees? Sure, he says his team wont make any changes until they assess everything. But still...this is huge.
What about the other artists signed to the label? I ask, brow furrowed. Are their contracts safe too?
Damien nods, his eyes holding steady on mine. For now, yes. Were doing a full review before making any decisions. But you dont need to worry about your own contract being in jeopardy.
I exhale slowly, tension easing from my shoulders. At least theres that. My career hasnt been snatched out from under me. Not yet, anyway.
Still, a dozen other questions swirl in my head. This is Damien overstepping in a major way, and part of me hates that Im the damsel who needs rescuing. Ive spent my whole life fighting for independence.
But another part of me...that part thrills at the thought of Damien wielding his power and wealth to protect me. To fight for me when I cant fight for myself.
The grievances spouted by the record label were not totally under my control. I couldnt control the media, Landon, and now Damien.
I chew my lip, studying him. This man does what he wants.
And apparently, what he wants is to take care of me.
My cheeks flush at the realization. Im grateful, despite my misgivings about needing rescue. How many times has Brandon threatened to drop me when Ive pushed back about creative control? With Damien, maybe I can finally negotiate for more artistic freedom.
The idea sends a shiver of excitement through me. Being able to write and record my own songs, without Brandons restrictions? Its a dream Ive all but given up on.
Thank you, I murmur. For doing this. For having my back.
One side of his sensual mouth curves in a half-smile. Always, angel. You dont need to thank me.
Those words... that endearment... it sparks something low in my belly. A slow burn that could easily become a raging inferno if Im not careful.
Damiens head dips, his lips finding my knuckles in a soft kiss. The whisper of his breath on my skin makes me shiver.
God, I want this man. Not just his money or his power, but him. The person underneath the badass billionaire facade.
I swallow hard, lost in the heat of his gaze. Part of me wants to launch myself into his arms, but part of our ease is that its cool to just be.
Was that the reason for your impromptu visit? Or was this all to annoy Brandon? I twist on the couch, still holding tight to his hand.
Annoying that man always lightens my day a bit, Damien admits with a smirk. But I actually had something else to talk to you about.
What is it?
After a moment, Damien exhales a heavy sigh, and the change in his demeanor sends the butterflies in my stomach scattering. I recognize that look all too well—the one people wear when theyre carrying bad news they dont know how to share.
Youre going to be a little upset about this, he admits.
Spit it out already. Dont try to protect me by lying to me, I warn him.
Ill always tell you the truth, Andrea.
Damien reaches for a leather briefcase tucked beside his feet, one I hadnt noticed before. He fumbles with the clasp, then produces a stack of papers—letters and notes.
The photocopies show handwriting thats hasty and smeared. Whats all this?
Letters from your stalker, Damien admits.
For a moment, the air is knocked out of my lungs.
What...?
I glance down at the documents, my heart pounding in my chest.
Stalker? Letters? What is he talking about?
Brandon said the matter was already resolved.
He lied.
I dont understand, I say, my voice shaking slightly. Brandons been keeping this from me?
Damien nods grimly, his jaw clenched. It seems that way. He claims its to protect you, but I find that hard to believe.
I snatch the letters from his grasp, my hands trembling as I shuffle through the pages. The handwriting is jagged and uneven, the words scrawled across the page like a frantic scream.
Youre mine. Youll always be mine.
A chill runs down my spine as I read the disturbing message. How could Brandon keep something like this from me?
There are more, Damien says quietly, handing me the rest of the letters.
I rifle through them, my stomach churning with each new threat, each twisted proclamation of obsession. Some of the letters are rambling, incoherent rants, while others are chillingly lucid and calculated.
I will have you. No one can stop me.
Your voice belongs to me, Drea Joy.
My hands fall limp, the letters falling from my grasp. I bury my face in my hands, trying to make sense of it all.
How long has this been going on? How many of these deranged letters has Brandon been hiding from me?
Anger rises in my chest, hot and bitter. Brandon has always been controlling, but this is a new level of betrayal. He had no right to keep this from me, no matter what his justification might be.
Are you okay? Damiens voice is soft, laced with concern.
I lift my head, blinking back tears. No, Im not okay. How could he do this to me? How could he keep something so serious, so...frightening from me?
Damien sits beside me, his body a solid, reassuring presence. I dont know his reasons, but I promise you, I wont let anything happen to you.
His words should comfort me, but a nagging fear takes root in my mind. If Brandon has been hiding this stalkers existence from me, what else doesnt he want me to know?
I think back to all the times hes brushed off my concerns, all the instances where hes dismissed my instincts as paranoia or overreaction. Has he been gaslighting me this entire time?
We need to go to the police, I say, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.
Damien nods. I agree. This has gone too far.
As I gather the letters, my hands shake violently. The words seem to blur before my eyes, the threats taking on a new, terrifying weight.
This stalker, whoever he is, knows things about me. Intimate things. Things only someone close to me would know.
A sickening realization dawns on me, and I clutch Damiens arm, my nails digging into his skin.
Damien, I whisper, my voice barely audible. What if...what if its someone I see every day? Someone close to me?
The thought chills me to the bone, and suddenly, every shadow feels like a potential threat, every familiar face a mask concealing a twisted obsession.
Damiens expression darkens, and he pulls me closer, his arms enveloping me in a protective embrace.
I wont let anyone hurt you, he vows, his voice low and fierce. No matter who it is, Ill keep you safe.
I cling to him, drawing from his strength. In this moment, he is my anchor, the only thing keeping me from being swept away by the tide of fear and uncertainty.
As I bury my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent, a strange sense of calm washes over me.
But deep down, a nagging question remains: how far will this stalker go to make me his?