“I want you with me this weekend.”
Her brows flicked up. “Where to?”
“To my brother and his wife in the Catskills. They have an estate. It’s a good place—maybe it would do you good.” I had reasons for wanting her there. I didn’t need to say them.
She blinked, off guard. Her eyes slid from my mouth to the floor as she twisted the sleeve hem between her fingers. “Actually, I was planning to go to my mother and her boyfriend’s ranch in Greenwood Falls this weekend.”
“We could split it. One night with your family, one night with mine.” The words came out before I could stop them, before I could clamp down on my own tongue. What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t the man who arranged weekend getaways. I was the man parents warned their daughters about. And now I was offering a domestic option, like I belonged in it.
That was dangerous. For both of us. The more she saw of me, the more she'd think I had something like a heart. The more she believed it, the worse it would end
Still, I didn’t take the words back. Because deep down I wanted to know if she’d say yes.
“You… and me?”
I let a faint smile slip. Smiling wasn’t a tactic. It was soft. I wasn’t soft. I was cold, calculated, the sort who moved first so others couldn’t. And yet there I was, trying to please.
Pathetic.
She looked at me like I wasn’t Damian Miller—the man people feared—but someone worth holding. Her gaze softened, and something I’d locked away stirred. It wanted warmth. It wanted closeness.
I knew how it ended. Whoever got too close lost themselves first, then everything else. Eventually I’d lose too—her, myself, whatever scraps of humanity I clung to.
“Uh… I don’t know, Damian.” She scratched her head. “I never thought you’d suggest something like that.”
I tilted my head. “Isn’t that what you want from me?”
Daisy nodded. “Yes… but…”
“Good.” My voice came out harsher than I meant, maybe because it felt like handing her something she could take away. “Pack a bag. Dawn.”
I didn’t invite her. I summoned her—and she didn’t even notice. A fleeting smile touched her lips. My heart kicked. Pathetic. Fragile. And still—I let it happen.
I guided the car along the winding road toward Greenwood Falls. The map of trees and fields opened into wide pastures glowing in the afternoon sun. Daisy had cracked the window, letting in the rural air. I heard her inhale, and a quiet calm smoothed her face—a peace I’d never seen on her. It suited her better than anything else.
As the Greenwood Falls sign came into view, I caught her smile from the corner of my eye. Rooted. Warm. Family. Things I had never been built for. I wasn’t sure I could ever show her what lived inside me. Or if she would even want to see it.
“Your friend… Jenn. She seems important to you,” I said, breaking the silence. Maybe I just needed to drown out my own head.
“Yes. We met before college. We’ve been best friends ever since.”
“It’s good to have someone like that. Someone you can trust.” My reason shouted, but my voice sounded calm. Too calm for the storm inside me.
“Do you even have friends, Damian?” Daisy asked, glancing sideways. “I mean real, best friends?”
I shrugged. “There are only a few people I trust. Bodyguards, for example.”
“I mean friends. People you laugh with. Spend time with.”
“I do that with plenty of people.” The answer snapped out—automatic, cold.
“You spend time with people who either admire you or want something from you. But is there no one who’s just a friend? Someone outside the business?”
What could I tell her? That I couldn’t remember the last time I confided in someone without calculating the cost? That trust in my world was a liability? That I could sit in a crowded room and still suffocate? I kept my mouth shut. Silence was safer than truth.
“One person,” I said finally. “Joseph Pikston. College friend. We studied together. I trusted him. We even shared a room.”
“And then?”
