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That coldness behind his handsome face.
“Damon. Good evening.”
“So, you finally called me,” he says.
“You were waiting for me?” I ask with a frown.
“I might have been.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
Damon ignores that comment.
“Follow me,” he says.
He leads the way inside his mansion.
I can’t help but swivel my head in all directions once I step into his inner sanctum. The foyer in here isstriking. An ornate chandelier dangles overhead, casting its glow. A marble staircase stretches upwards into the expanse above our heads. Elegant artworks grace the walls, while a selection of plush upholstered furniture imparts the foyer with a lived-in feel.
I’ve definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, never been in a house like this before.
Damon certainly has a taste in the fine things, it seems...
“This place is...big,” I mutter, glancing around the stronghold of a building.
Damon nonchalantly points down a hallway. “Down there is the gym I’ve built,” he says before pointing down another hallway. “And there’s my indoor swimming pool with a spa and sauna. Beyond that is my private cinema and bar.”
He reels them off as ifeveryone’shouse comes with a nightclub-level bar tucked in another wing.
“What’s this?” I ask, gesturing at a steel door.
“My gaming room,” he explains. “I like to run illegal high-stakes poker nights.”
“Of course you do,” I reply with a roll of my eyes.
“Don’t tell the police,” he says with a smirk.
“Oh, I’m sure there are a hell of a lot more things they’llwant you for before they move onto the topic of illegal poker nights.”
He takes me up a flight of stairs and into his private office. He scans his thumbprint into a biometric detection thing on the wall next to the office. It beeps in recognition.
“I’ve only ever seen that in movies,” I remark, nodding at the scanner thingy.
“I value my privacy,” Damon says. “Every security measure in this place is top-of-the-range.”
“Yeah, I guessed that.”
“This is where my most vital work gets done,” the man tells me as we step into his office. I want to laugh at how serious and somber he is. No one speaks like this outside of movies. But I quickly stifle the laugh. I have a feeling that Damon Penmayne does not take well to people joking at his expense.
The office is dimly lit. The dark wood walls are adorned with ancient weaponry. There are large bookshelves filled with books. I wonder if Damon’s read them all.
The main part of the office is the large desk. Behind it is a leather chair, and behind that chair is a minibar stocked with whiskey and Scotch. I can also see a collection of cigars on display. Above the minibar is a massive world map that takes up the rest of the back wall. Thick black lines mark out countries and borders.
It’s like Damon wants to conquer the world, and I wouldn’t put it past the man to actually do it.
The room simply screams authority.
And it also feels so private. This is Damon’s inner den, and he’s invited me inside.
