“I want the money you took from my safe. If your offer is in earnest, you'll turn the bills over to me.”
I reach into my purse and pull out the stack of counterfeits, tossing it on the coffee table. Damien loosens his grip and Tony grabs the stack, starts to count it. While he’s occupied, I produce the affidavit I had Maeve draw up and a pen from my bag. “Sign this, and it's yours.”
He slaps the cash against his palm. “Is this all of it?”
“I spent a hundred and kept one bill, for sentimental reasons.” I give him a smug look. “That bill will never see its way out of my scrapbook as long as you’re cooperative.”
“How do I know you're not lying?”
Damien produces an atavistic rattle that sends a chill through me. It sounds like a diamondback snake, if the snake was as big as a T. rex. Tony grimaces, his lips drawing back as if he doesn’t know quite what to make of Damien.
“You don’t, Tony. You'll have to trust me. I have no reason to lie to you. Anything I want, I could ask you for right now.”
He snorts, but with one last darted glance between Damien and me, he picks up the pen and signs the affidavit. I sweep it off the table and check that it’s his legal signature. “Thank you.”
With a huff of disgust, he stands, planting his hands on his hips. I don’t miss how Damien positions himself betweenus. “You've changed, Eloise.”
I start backing toward the door, and Damien follows. “No. This is exactly who I always was. I just forgot for a while.”
Nothing else is said. I leave the penthouse, and Tony, behind me.
31
Broken Things
ELOISE
My phone rings as I pull into the drive that leads to Harcourt Manor, the sight of the place causing my heart to swell. It’s mine and will stay that way. Finally, I’ve awakened from the nightmare I thought would never end. It’s over.
I tap the screen to answer on speaker.
“The advocate just delivered the paperwork,” Maeve says. “Congratulations, El. You did it. The house is yours. I’m filing this first thing in the morning, and I’ve already faxed a copy to Tony’s lawyers.”
“Thank you. Oh God, thank you. I’m so happy it’s over.”
“Not completely. Not until our court date next Friday, but I doubt he’ll give us any trouble, considering what you know. I’m curious, though, why you didn’t take it to the authorities. You could have had him thrown in jail, had the prenup thrown out, and maybe got a better deal for yourself.”
I sigh and hit the button to open the garage. “I just wantit to be over. All of this has been such a distraction. I want to spend uninterrupted time with Grams without having to worry about Tony pulling the rug out from under us. I feel like I can finally breathe tonight.”
“Understood. Honestly, I have to hand it to you. The advocate said you stood up to Tony with, and I quote, ‘strength he’s rarely seen in all his five hundred years.’”
“Damien said that? Really?”
“Yes, he did. Actually, he seemed a little obsessed with you. Be careful, El. Keep the candle nearby just in case he tries something.”
“Like what?” I ask playfully.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about. Remember, he’s a monster. He’s not a potential love interest. Got it?”
I’ve had about enough of the Damien bashing. “You know what? Damien isn’t a monster. Tony’s a monster. Believe me, I know. I still have the scars to remind me of the difference. Damien may be a creature, but he’s a good person.”
“But Eloise, you have to understand?—”
“Goodbye, Maeve,” I sing-song, then hang up the phone. As I enter the house, I silence the ringer so it won’t wake Grams and toe off my shoes. I pad on stocking feet to the back of the house and check on her. She’s fallen asleep propped up on pillows, facing the window to watch for her beloved Howard. For a few minutes, I follow her chest as it rises and falls in peaceful slumber, noticing that the drink and snack I’ve placed on the bedside table are still there, untouched. When was the last time she ate more than a few bites?
I close my eyes and whisper a prayer to anyone who is listening, then shuffle back to the parlor and use one of thelong matches to light the fire. I’m still squatting, watching the kindling between the logs ignite, when a deliciously dark, spicy scent wafts past me and a pair of long, muscular arms wrap around my shoulders.
“Damien,” I whisper, closing my eyes and taking a deep, cleansing breath. “We did it. Maeve just called. The house is as good as mine.”
