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Because he was obviously doing something.
“Why?” Damian asks. He balls his hand into a fist, slamming it sharply against the desk. “Why did he do it?”
I hesitate to answer, my thoughts running a mile a minute. Damian could be trying to walk me into a trap with my own tongue—I don’t know what he’s trying to get from me or what his motivation is, and saying the wrong thing could end up with me dead.
I find myself shrugging, grasping for the right words.
“I’m not quite sure,” I say. “Honestly, I feel a bit betrayed by him too at this point. I’m not sure what to believe anymore. There’s so much that I’m only just now realizing I didn’t know about him. So many questions I might never get answers to now that he’s dead.”
And that makes me want to kick my feet against the desk in frustration, cry until I’m hoarse. It’s a swelling of bitterness and resentment that twists my stomach into knots, that catches me off guard and makes it hard to breathe.
“I’m mourning him and hating him at the same time for not trusting me with any of that,” I admit quietly.
Damian gives me a heavy look. “Perhaps it’s better that way, Grace. Knowing his secrets could have put you in more danger than you realize. Ignorance, in your case, may save your life.”
He’s right.
Knowing what my father was doing—if he was doing anything—would have put me up against the Novak syndicate as an enemy. I was already in that territory at first, just by being Samuel’s daughter. How much more would Hale and his men have hated me, tortured me, punished me, had I known what my father was doing?
For some reason, my mind flashes back to Ciro’s hands around my neck, locked in the night terror—being pinned beneath him with no way out.
And what about those early days of being tied to the bed, constantly monitored in everything I did?
I swallow.
I don’t want to know how things could have been, had I been part of whatever my father was involved in. Had I known anything more than I already know. Which is, frustratingly, nothing.
“The most terrible thing about trust, Grace,” Damian says, looking at me closely, “is that the more deeply it’s earned, the worse it is when it is broken.”
I hesitate to answer. I’m sure Damian is thinking about the mole in his organization, and my fingers curl around the armrest of the chair as I hold his gaze. Does he think I might have had something to do with this? Does he think I orchestrated this?
“Your father’s betrayal changed the way I run my business. It changed the way I view every person around me.” For a second, something like pain flashes in Damian’s eyes. “I vowed to myself that I would never let someone close to me betray me again. I would never let myself be blind to the signs right in front of me.”
His jaw tightens, and I hold my breath.
“And yet,” he continues, “despite the promise I made to myself, someone is working against my organization from the inside. Someone has betrayed me again.”
“I don’t know who it is.” I shake my head. “I don’t. But I want to, and if I can help you find this person, I will.”
He nods, acknowledging my words, but his expression doesn’t soften.
“My son cares for you,” he sa
ys slowly. “I can see it in the way he looks at you. He trusts you. So I am willing to extend some of my trust to you as well.”
Relief rushes through me at Damian’s words, but he holds up his hand, his expression hardening. “However, should you betray his trust, it won’t matter if Hale forgives you. I never will.”
My heart thuds in my chest, weighing his words.
I never will.
No one wants to have an enemy like Damian Novak, and I feel a little sick at the thought of what he would do to me if I betray his family. I know he’s just looking out for his son, but that doesn’t make his threat any less real. If anything, it’s more real.
The games have ended, and it’s life or death now.
“I owe Hale my life,” I find myself saying, my voice steady despite my racing pulse. “But how I feel about him… goes beyond that. He’s learned to trust me, and I’ve learned to trust him too. I would never betray him—not because of a debt owed, but because I care about him. Even if he hadn’t saved my life, I would never do anything to hurt your son.”
My chest constricts a little as I speak. That’s the closest I’ve come to admitting out loud how deep my feelings for Hale are becoming, and it’s terrifying and exhilarating to say it. My words hold nothing but truth, and I think Damian knows that. The corners of his mouth curve up in a surprisingly genuine smile, softening his features and giving him an almost comforting look.
