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"Last I heard, you tortured her. Now you're worried for her. Why is that?" He leans forward with his forearms resting on the desk.
Julian hands me a box with tattered documents inside. "I had this gathered from Isabella’s Father's office in her old house. This is her father's doing. Find him, and you'll get your answers."
"Don't you already know?" I snap as I grab the box.
Julian's eyes darken. "No. The fucking bastard disappeared. I can trace him to Jackson's wedding. After that, he vanished. Don't worry. if he turns up somewhere, I'll let you know."
"Thank you," I say.
"No problem," Julian says with a wolfish grin. "I'll let you know when I need you to return the favor."
I can't help but chuckle, a dry sound that echoes around the room. "Should have known there would be strings attached," I reply with bitter amusement.
Julian only shrugs as his eyes lock onto mine with a stony intensity. "Nothing is given freely in our world, Damien," he says, a cruel sort of truth hanging in the air between us.
I nod my acknowledgment before standing up to leave. Thomas, ever the perfect butler, escorts me out with a professionalism that belies the tension brewing beneath the surface.
As I head home, I dial Victor on my phone. "Switch your focus," I instruct, the words crisp and businesslike. "Look into Isabella's father."
Without waiting for a response, I hang up with my mind whirring with the new information Julian revealed. It's a tangle of half-truths and hidden motives, and I feel a strange sort of thrill as I unravel the threads. As I drive, my thoughts keep circling back to Isabella. The woman I can't seem to get out of my mind. Once home, I head straight to my office, intent on doing a little more digging on Isabella.
17
CHAPTER 17
Isabella
"Good morning, Destiny. You're looking as beautiful as ever," Jacob says from the counter, his voice pulling interrupting my thoughts.
I stand behind the counter pouring a cup of coffee for Mrs. Harmon, the early bird regular, when I hear him. I can't help but roll my eyes as I turn around.
"Hello, Jacob," I reply before setting the coffee pot down with a soft clank. "When are you going to stop flirting with me?" I can't keep a straight face, even as I pretend to chide him.
Jacob just laughs, the sound rich and easy. "I'm not flirting with you, Isabella. I'm just offering a friendly compliment." His smile is infectious, and despite my resolve, I laugh.
I've been back in my tiny town for three months now. Jacob popped up about a week after I returned and has been a fixture at the diner ever since. Eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner like it's his personal kitchen. At first, I suspected he was one of Damien's men, but he doesn't have that scary-suited-guy vibe.
Then I assumed he was hitting on me, but when I set boundaries, he simply chuckled in that deep, rich laugh of his and assured me he wasn’t interested romantically. He just found me 'interesting' and enjoyed our chats. Said I seemed nice and was just being friendly to a newcomer like himself. Since that clarification, things have been amicable between us, an easygoing rapport settling in.
I lean against the counter, a fleeting shiver traveling down my spine as I think back to Damien. Our last interaction plays in my mind like a dark, seductive memory so vivid I can almost feel it. His hands, both rough and gentle, had explored the contours of my body and awakened a raw hunger I hadn't known lay dormant within me. I remember how he made me feel. Alive with every nerve ending, singing with a desire so intense that it bordered on pain.
As I pick up the coffee cup, my hand trembles slightly, betraying the composed image I maintain. I can't shake the unnerving certainty that no man will ever touch me the way Damien did. Won’t ignite a fire that seems impossible to extinguish. With each passing day, the longing only deepens, etching itself into my very core, leaving me restless and unsatisfied.
I shake those intruding thoughts away and carry Mrs. Harmon's coffee over to her with the steam curling up from the mug as I meander through the diner's early morning bustle. "Here you are," I say, setting down her cup. The rich aroma of coffee and breakfast foods fills the air as I weave back behind the counter.
"I take it you want your usual?" I ask Jacob, who's perched on one of the stools with a newspaper spread before him. He doesn't look up as he nods. "You got it," he responds, folding his paper with well-practiced creases.
"Bacon, eggs, and a side of hash browns, with black coffee coming right up," I chime, turning on my heel towards the kitchen.
In an instant, my steps halt. There's a shadow by the window, a silhouette that sends a shiver of unease through me. The stranger's gaze is fixed inward, and I can't look away. My abrupt stop causes Maggie, who emerges from the kitchen with a full plate, to bump into me.
"Destiny?" Jacob says in a tone filled with concern.
I twist back to Jacob, offering him a distracted glance before my eyes dart back to the window. Nothing. The figure has vanished just as quickly as it appeared.
"I'm so sorry, Maggie," I blurt out, the encounter with the stranger unsettling me more than I care to admit. My voice is a whisper of confusion mixed with uneasy apologies.
"That's okay," Maggie reassures me with her ever-present smile as she balances the plate like it's second nature. "At least I didn't drop the food.” She brushes off the near mishap and carries on as if the pulse of the diner never skipped a beat, while I’m left with an unsettled feeling that lingers after the figure's disappearance.
