“If true, remarkable. It would be your breakthrough. Fame, legacy.”
I nodded. “And I have good news for you. I’ve secured the final artifact for your collection. We only need to settle which rights you’ll transfer to me and which divisions of the company we’ll run together. Great things lie ahead. I want you in on a project in Egypt—excavations begin next spring.”
“That would be excellent.”
He pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase, laying them between us. “The contract. Everything we discussed in Rome. Read it at your leisure.”
Why bring this in person? He could’ve sent it. No—he wanted more. To pry about the artifact. Or worse.
Daisy’s words echoed, and for the first time in my life, I faltered. My foundation—cold, calculated, unshakable—cracked.
“There’s one more thing,” Mason said, too casually. Every muscle in me braced. “Daisy Elfhorn.”
Her name went through me like a clean blade—no warning, all cut. My heart pounded. I saw the sadistic gleam in his eyes—he lived to test boundaries.
“She fascinates me. That intelligence. That knowledge. I wonder what it would cost to employ her.”
I didn’t blink. But inside, something screamed. I’d kill you before I handed her to you. My fists clenched under the table, nails biting skin.
“There’s no deal where Daisy is the price,” I said. “She isn’t inventory.”
His smile widened, vile. “That almost sounds as if she has no choice. What if she wants to come to me? Wouldn’t that be her decision? Or do you speak for her, Damian?”
My blood surged like fire. “She makes her own decisions. But I won’t cut a deal that sells her to you.”
“She’s worth more to you, isn’t she? Than all this.?”
I could’ve killed him right there, just reached across the desk and crushed his throat until the smirk vanished. And for a fraction of a second—I hesitated.
“No.” I made it sound like iron and prayed it wouldn’t bend. Inside, everything screamed. Daisy had unearthed something I’d buried for good reason. Feelings made me weak. Weakness meant loss. And loss meant ruin.
Mason leaned back, eyes glinting. “So she’s not worth losing it all for. Good. Reassuring, really. I’d have been disappointed if you’d put someone above success.”
He smiled. And I smiled back. Lies—both of us. But only one of us was close to breaking.
“I have another appointment,” I lied, standing. “Then I won’t keep you. We’ll see each other at the gala.”
I walked him to the door. The moment it shut behind him, I slammed my fist into the wall. Not hard enough to break bone, but hard enough to draw blood. I barely felt it. Numbness swallowed me whole, because I knew the truth: I wasn’t the same. She’d moved something I’d buried alive. And the thing was waking.
Chapter 17 Daisy
Isank onto one of the elegant sofas, trying to collect my thoughts, when Thomas Mason strode toward me. His smile was smug, his charm painted on.
“Good evening, Miss Elfhorn,” he purred—too close, too dry. “Beautiful,” he said, sliding into the seat beside me. Before I could react, he caught my hand and pressed his lips to it. The gesture made bile rise in my throat. “Utterly enchanting.”
“Good evening, Mr. Mason,” I murmured, forcing composure. My smile felt like a spasm as I yanked my hand back. My gaze darted around the foyer, searching for Damian, for Marlon. No one. Just him and me.
Mason leaned back, studying me with predatory sharpness. “Have you thought about my offer in Rome?”
“I don’t know which offer you mean.”
He glanced around, then leaned closer. “I want you to work for me.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s out of the question. You could offer me the world—I’d still refuse. I love my work with Mr. Miller, and I will never leave him.”
His smile thinned. “Or is it that you love the way he fucks you?”
Shock jolted me. I tried to rise, but his hand clamped down on my arm, iron, punishing.
