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I offer him a weary nod, pushing aside the encounters with Damien’s mother and sister. “Certainly, Charles. I think something light would be fitting for today. Perhaps a grilled salmon with a side of steamed vegetables? And for Damien...”
Charles patiently waits as I contemplate Damien’s preferences, given the day he's had.
“He usually enjoys a hearty meal, but with the gala tomorrow, let's keep it lighter for him as well. Maybe the same as mine, but include a small serving of roasted potatoes. He loves those.” I finish with a small smile. The familiarity of catering to Damien's likes brings a semblance of normality.
“Of course, Mrs. Blackhart. It shall be as you wish,” Charles assures me, his demeanor as unruffled as the starched collar he wears. “And may I say, it's a pleasure to see you taking such good care of Master Damien, especially now.” His words are simple and sincere.
“Thank you, Charles. I appreciate that,” I tell him.
With a final nod of acknowledgment, Charles departs, leaving me with my thoughts as the scent of citrus from my juice mingles with the faint, yet robust fragrance of the impending dinner.
I head upstairs, juice in hand, seeking the sanctuary of our bedroom. When I enter, I'm met with the sight of Damien, wincing slightly as he dons his shirt, a clear sign he hasn't fully healed.
"Where are you going?" I ask, trying to mask the concern in my voice.
Damien doesn't meet my eyes. "It's Victor," he begins, fastening his cuffs with deft fingers. "We got a tip on where to find some people I've been looking for."
There's a cryptic edge to his words, a veil he draws to guard me from the darker corners of his world.
But I'm not easily fooled. "You're not telling me everything. I know you want to keep me safe," I probe, acutely aware of his evasion. "Damien, remember what keeping secrets does? Keeping me in the dark is dangerous."
Damien sighs deeply, his muscles tensing as he faces the inevitable confrontation. "I have to do this, Isabella," he implores, but I'm not swayed.
"No, you don't," I counter, narrowing my eyes. "You're still recovering. Just stay... one more day. For me."
His eyes soften, the battles he fights internally manifesting in his gaze. Then, as if a decision has been made, he smiles mischievously and takes out his phone. He dials and puts it on speaker.
The ringing punctuates the silence before Victor's voice booms from the speaker. "What's up? Are we heading out?"
"Sorry, Vic," Damien's tone is light, with a hint of laughter. "My wife won't let me out to play. She says I need to stay home."
Victor's laughter fills the room, and I can't help but roll my eyes at such boyish conversation.
"He needs to recover for at least one more day. We have the gala after that. Then you boys can have all the fun you want. Just don't come back bleeding everywhere again," I assert, raising my voice for Victor's benefit.
"Yes, ma'am," Victor chuckles on the other end, the sound thick with amusement. "Damien, when you're done being bossed around by your wife, you know where to find me."
Damien tosses his phone on the bed and begins to unbutton his shirt once more. I watch, rooted to the spot by the door, as he peels the garment from his torso, revealing the bare skin beneath that hasn’t yet healed from his recent encounter. His eyes lift to meet mine, and the intensity I see there makes my breath catch in my throat. That look, it's more than a silent conversation. Heat pricks at the surface of my skin, and goosebumps trail like a shiver across my arms as anticipation builds within me.
“I should be out tearing the city apart right now,” Damien says. “I’m filled with an energy that feeds my vengeance. But since I can’t do that, I’ll fill up my time doing something else.”
Damien stalks toward me, and when he gets closer, he rips my clothes from my body. He spins me towards the window, and I place my hands on the glass. Before I have time to think, Damien enters me like a man possessed. His thrusts are unrestrained and savage, filling me over and over again. I moan against the glass as I claw for a grip. His breathing is ragged as his body moves with uncontrolled force, filling me completely.
“Damien,” I moan because there’s nothing else I can say.
His hand wraps around my throat, bringing me back against his chest. His brutal grip on me gives him leverage as he hammers into me until I’m screaming so loud that his staff has to think he’s killing me. Damien buries himself deep inside me, breathing harshly into my neck. His cock jerks, and I know he’s close.
I move back against him, helping the friction so he can reach his peak. His grip on my throat tightens, and he moans into my neck as his cock jerks violently within me. His body is shaking as he comes so hard. My body feels like noodles when he pulls out of me and drags me to the bed to continue releasing that energy.
Lying in bed, the wind from the open windows intertwines with our calm breathing. Damien's hand draws comforting circles on my back, a rhythm that lulls my racing thoughts. He sighs contentedly, a sound that vibrates through the quiet room.
"Damien," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. "Will our lives always be like this? Wrapped in danger?"
He doesn't hesitate to respond. "This is the life I lead, Isabella," he says, his voice steady. "Danger is part of the territory. But don't be afraid. I will do everything in my power to keep us safe."
I pause, feeling the weight of my next words. "But what if... what if it becomes too dangerous? If one day it's the only way to protect our child, would you let me leave?"
His arms tighten around me, pulling me into his chest. "If it's to protect our child, yes," he admits with a heavy heart. "I would let you leave. But there will be no divorce. That's off the table. I'll take care of what needs to be handled and bring you both home back to me, just like it’s supposed to be."
