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“Glenmorangie, neat,” I said to the bartender.
“Good choice.” I heard an older man say to me as he came up and stood by the bar.
“Thank you,” I nodded. “Would you like one as well?” I asked, trying to get the bartender’s attention.
“A scotch,” he said. I ordered it and we both drank.
The man was older and seems somewhat severe in his manner. I could feel no warmth in him as he drank his scotch smiling at me.
“Daimon was always very good at making deals and getting what he wanted,” the man started.
“Yes, I know,” I said, remembering our fights over our contracts.
“You must be quite good at it too. You are pretty, but not enough for him to lose focus on the real goal, and yet here you are standing in a room filled with people who are far above your station,” the man said callously.
“Excuse me?” I said meekly, afraid of where this was going.
“I cannot believe my son would stoop to someone so beneath him. I raised him to take over the business world, not destroy himself with someone like you.”
I chuckled. I mean I really chuckled. This was Daimon’s father. It was no wonder Daimon didn’t understand emotions; the man who raised him was deprived of any humanity.
“Answer me this, young Addie. How does a young girl like you, with no real education, a destitute father and a dead mother, get her hands on Daimon? Did you whore yourself?” His cruel questions ate away at my confidence. “Is it the sex? Do you offer him something others don’t? He could easily pay for that. Could it be you blackmailed him? Because, sweetheart, you are no looker, not enough to ruin a promising career over,” he continued to berate me. “So tell me!” he insisted, but I stayed mute.
“How much? How much will it take for you to leave him? I’ll pay you twice what he has,” he said bluntly.
“He loves…”
“Don’t you dare say he loves you. I don’t believe it,” he said snapped.
“I think I should be going now,” I muttered as I tried to gather my bearings.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said fiercely as he stopped me. “We need to figure out a pleasant way for you to go away.”
“Dad,” Daimon said low so no one around us would hear him. My gazed focused only on Daimon, wanting him to make this all stop. “Addie, meet your father-in-law,” Daimon said curtly.
“I met him,” I murmured.
“So tell me, Dad, do you not think Addie the most beautiful creature in here?” Daimon taunted.
My very core sunk lower, knowing Daimon was now using me to goad his father. Once again, I was a mere toy to be used when needed.
“She’s pleasant, but I do think there are others who are far more your league,” Daimon’s father answered rudely.
“If they are I don't see them, because all I see is my Addie,” Daimon fired back.
“For now,” his father refuted.
“Forever,” Daimon insisted. “Let’s go.” Daimon took my hand and intertwined our fingers again, but this time, his thumb strummed across my knuckles, trying to ease the pain that was just inflicted. He pulled me across the room, far enough from his father. The moment I felt safe, I pulled back my hand and stopped Daimon from going any further.
“Don’t!” he hissed.
“Don’t what?” I asked, my heart still reeling.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he bit out.
“Like what?”
“Like you need me, like I’m the only one who can save you. Don’t you think I want to! Don’t you think I know you’re hurt? But what can I do? There isn’t a damn fucking thing I can do for you, Addie. How the hell can I fix your pain when I don’t have a fucking clue how to fix my own?” he said gutturally; his sky-blue eyes liquefying as a dark sadness peered through.
“I want to go home,” I said, broken and hurt. I wanted him to take this all away. I wanted him to hold me, to tell me no one could hurt me; instead, he told me he couldn’t.
“No,” he spat out.
“Why?” I pleaded.
“All I know is I hate it when you are not next to me and I feel whole when you are there. So don’t ask me why, because I hardly understand it myself,” he said, taking my hand. “Act like you never saw him. Act like he never told you a damn thing,” Daimon ordered.
I watched as Daimon sought out my obedience. I nodded, knowing I was now walking a dangerous path with myself. Daimon’s words lurched inside me and played at my heart. I looked back to see his father still at the bar watching us. Daimon noticed as well and grew stiff. I slowly tightened my grip around his hand and pulled myself closer to him. I could feel his body cold and wooden. His stance threatening as he glared at his father. I reached out with my free hand and cupped his face. At first, he didn’t move, but once I feathered his cheek, Daimon slowly closed his eyes and sank into my caress. He reached out his hand and cupped mine. We stood shaken by what had just happened.
