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Maybe it was a mistake coming along tonight.
Maybe there’s a reason I should not be in this world.
But it’s too late to turn back now. Way too freaking late.
This is definitely a long way away from Crystal River...
The elevator doors open, and I am thrust into the gangster movie of my nightmares.
43
AVA
As we stepout of the elevator, way up above the art gallery, a whole squad of beefed-up dudes are stood waiting for Damon and me. They're all rocking black suits, just like Damon. Well, maybe not as dapper as him, but they sure bring the intimidation that makes me gasp.
But, instead of being scared like me, Damon simply holds his head up high and nods at the small gathering like he is their boss. Even in this daunting situation, Damon is an alpha.
Even when he is clearly nervous, Damon is as solid as a rock.
Barely any words are spoken between the males in the room. There is a palpable antagonistic tension in the air - like the men and Damon are lions readying to pounce to determine who is the king of the pack with a clawed fight. I can tell there is a hell of a lot of respect emanating from these men when it comes to Damon, even if it does seem like they want to kill him.
They also seem, dare I say, a little bitterrifiedof him.
“Shall we proceed?” Damon finally asks the room, breaking the tension.
The men all part like Moses’ sea to let him and me pass through them. I feel multiple eyes on me as I walk through the crowd, but I remain strong and unblinking – just like I imagine Damon wants me to be. He holds my hand tight, giving me the energy and the will to keep walking proudly beside him. Right now, I feel like Damon’s girl, and I want to do right by him. I don’t want to be the weak link.
I mean, being stared at doesn’t faze me, anyway. I’ve been stared at before. On the football field. In skimpy cheerleader uniform. The stereotypical blonde bimbo, as salivating men would see me as when I was a teenager. This moment of being stared at – in this room full of gangsters - is nothing compared to those high school experiences.
Men are always men. No matter where they are - on the football field or in a gangster’s enclave. They will always try to dominate their power over women.
And women are stronger than they think.
I can be strong for Damon.
Past the beefed-up men, we enter into a long boardroom. It’s something that seems like it would fit in a major company’s headquarters. In the epicenter of the room sits a long dark table that stretches down the entire length of the space.
There are even more men in suits here. I want to laugh at the sight of them all: it seems like they’re playing a game of how many they can fit in one room. Like clowns at a circus fitting in a tiny car. It would be funny if this was not so grim. The lights above the long boardroom table are focused down, giving the lieutenants a dramatic shadow to their serious-looking faces.
Am I meant to feel daunted? Because I freaking do feel daunted.
Everything goes silent when we enter.
Everyone turns to Damon.
There are no other women in here, only me.
Damon’s reputation clearly precedes him. His presence is an announcement enough. He can command a room, that’s for sure.
I look up at him. Surprisingly, he smirks at the attention.
“Hello,” Damon says, greeting the small army.
He’s so damn calm. So damn...cool. It’s impressive.
And kinda sexy.
All the nervousness I saw in him earlier today has completely evaporated.
