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Lucas’s dark gaze is on me as he picks up his mug and drinks from it.

Tobias glances at me, then at Damian.

Damian walks to the table and pulls out my chair.

“Morning,” he says.

“What’s going on?”

Last night after we’d come back to the house, Damian had sent me to my room. I’d had dinner alone upstairs because as soon as we’d returned, Tobias had required his attention. He’d looked even more serious than usual and Damian had been quick to send me away.

It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure out something was wrong. Very wrong.

After dinner, I’d fallen asleep before he’d come up. I know he didn’t sleep in my bed, so when I looked into his room this morning, either the maid was very quick to make his bed, or he hadn’t slept there last night either. Had he slept at all? I wonder as I look at him. He’s changed clothes and his hair is wet from a shower, but I don’t miss the shadows that darken his eyes.

I touch my pocket as I take my seat. He must have come into my room while I’d been sleeping, though, because I found the switchblade Michela had given me on the nightstand beside the bed when I’d woken up.

He didn’t take it away. I thought for sure he would.

Unable to avoid Lucas’s gaze any longer, I meet it. I can’t read him at all. I’m getting to know Damian’s moods, but Lucas is like a vault.

Did he really know I was out there when he walked by me in the woods?

“Sleep all right?” Damian asks.

“Fine. But what’s going on?”

“Men are back. I’ll go meet with them,” Tobias tells Damian then walks away.

“Elise,” Damian calls out, eyes on me. “Bring my wife some breakfast,” he tells her. “What would you like?” I note the difference in tone when he speaks with me and it makes me think about what Liam said. That Damian feels something for me.

I’m too slow to answer, so Damian arches an eyebrow.

“Doesn’t matter. Fruit and yogurt if you have it.”

He nods to Elise, standing in the corner. She disappears into the kitchen while Damian pours me a cup of coffee. Then he sits down and looks at me.

“Michela and Bennie will be gone for a little while,” he says.

“Gone?”

He nods.

“Where?”

“A camp out West. Something Bennie will enjoy.”

“And Michela will not,” Lucas adds.

Damian gives him an irritated glance, then turns to me. “How are your hands?”

“Fine. Still sore but not too bad. What’s going on?”

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

Lucas snorts.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Damian asks him.

Lucas glances at me, then back to Damian. “You should tell her the truth, that’s my problem. She was out there yesterday.” He pushes back his chair. “I’m going to hear what the soldiers have to say.”

“Tobias will handle it.”

“You trust him over blood.”

“What choice have you given me?”

Lucas wipes his mouth, stands, then drops his napkin on the table.

“Just make sure you’re ready to go. We leave within the hour,” Damian tells him.

Lucas gives me a hard look, then leaves.

“What’s he talking about?” I ask Damian. “And why do I smell smoke?”

Damian turns to me. “We had a security breach yesterday. Two men on the grounds.”

“What?”

“Solarium is gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean gone?”

Elise returns with a heaping bowl of fresh fruit, yogurt, and granola.

“Thank you, Elise. You can clean up later,” Damian tells her, effectively dismissing her. He only continues once she’s disappeared into the kitchen. “They burned it down.”

“Who did and why?”

His jaw tightens, his eyes narrow, and I know he’s distracted. He shifts his gaze to me. “Business,” he says through clenched teeth. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Nothing for me to worry about? I was out there. I felt like I was being watched. You think it was the men who set the fire watching me?”

He sips his coffee, licks his lips, and sets the mug down. He’s pissed. I can see it. He looks at my plate. “Eat. I want to leave within the hour and I’m not leaving you here.”

“Tell me, Damian. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I sent a message. Clementi sent one back.”

“I don’t understand. Who is Clementi?” As soon as I say his name, though, I remember. The oldest client of my father’s. One who doesn’t want me around. I still remember his beady little eyes on me.

“Yeah, him,” Damian says, pushing his chair back. “The asshole with the umbrella in his fucking drink.” The look on his face is so dark, I think if he ever looked at me that way, I’d wither. He glances past me toward the front door momentarily. “What was Lucas carrying out there? What did you see?”

It takes me a minute to follow. “You think he helped them?”

“I didn’t say that. I asked what you saw.”

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