I’d say it’s all out of guilt, but I’m not so sure.
I could be over at the Fiorelli’s tonight, but I decided to be stubborn instead.
I set my mug of tea down on the flat arm of the couch and grab the remote off the coffee table, flicking the TV off.
At the same time that I do this, I hear a knock at the front door. I’m not expecting anyone, so at first, I don’t get up to answer it. Then I think…well, who could it be? Maybe something has happened while I’ve been here.
One would think that I’d hear about it on the phone first, but maybe not.
I decide to get up and answer the door. After all, if it was someone that isn’t supposed to be here, my guards would scare them off or there would be much more of a ruckus than I can hear currently.
The face of Damian is not one I expect after I punch in the security code and open the door. He’s standing here in the dead of night with raindrops in his hair and his shoulders moving with each of his heavy breathes.
The cold air rushes in and goosebumps form on my arms and neck.
“Damian,” I speak slowly. “What are you doing here?”
Despite my confusion, I still step to the side to allow him to come in. He doesn’t, not right away. He stays standing on my doorstep in the cold instead.
There’s a guard standing near the end of my porch watching us curiously. Another guard sits in a car nearby watching the perimeter.
“We need to talk,” Damian says. His voice is low and serious.
The frigid wind ruffles my hair and mingles with the warm air of my penthouse. “Come in then,” I motion as if he can’t see me standing off to the side already.
Damian steps inside and I close the door behind him then reset the security system.
“What’s this about? Is there more information on the Tulo family?” I ask him as I shove my hands into the pockets of my silk pajama pants.
Damian shakes his head. “No, this isn’t about that.”
I glance toward the clock on the wall adjacent the kitchen. “Well, it’s after midnight so this better be good.” I look at him again and narrow my eyes.
Damian shifts on his feet and clears his throat. “You’re not gonna like this, Alessio.”
I take a step back toward the living room, trying to get further away from the cold air still lingering by the entryway. “I don’t like most of what’s been going on lately. What’s new?”
“This is serious,” he growls out. “You might want to kill me after.”
My shoulders tense. “Out with it then, if it’s so goddamn serious.”
Damian steps closer to me, and for a brief second, I think he’s going to step so close that our faces might touch; instead, he steps around me. Dripping water onto the hardwood floor, leaving wet patches behind his every move. It irritates me, but I ignore it. If what he says is so important, then worrying about the puddles he’s leaving behind can wait.
“Eivor didn’t just hire me to protect Rosalie,” Damian says.
I tilt my head to the side. “You protect me too. I know that,” I say, but he clicks his tongue.
“I wasn’t finished,” he huffs. He seems worked up already, and it’s causing me to get worked up as well even though I don’t have any idea what he’s here for.
“Fine.” I close my mouth and wait.
“It’s true… I protect you too, but he didn’t hire me to do that. He cares about Rosalie, not you,” Damian explains. This doesn’t surprise me, but I don’t say that. I wait for him to continue. “He hired me to do more than just protect. He hired me to dig into your life.”
I go completely still.
Damian keeps talking. “Eivor hired me to find out some kind of information about you that would give him the upper hand,” he tells me. “Something to use against you and your family.”
I grind my teeth together and just stare at him for a moment as I process his words. Shock and anger build up inside of me like scalding hot water boiling in my veins. It doesn’t start out boiling, though; it starts off warm and flushes my cheeks and neck red.
