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The idea sends a shiver of excitement through me. Being able to write and record my own songs, without Brandon's restrictions? It's a dream I've all but given up on.
"Thank you," I murmur. "For doing this. For having my back."
One side of his sensual mouth curves in a half-smile. "Always, angel. You don't need to thank me."
Those words... that endearment... it sparks something low in my belly. A slow burn that could easily become a raging inferno if I'm not careful.
Damien's head dips, his lips finding my knuckles in a soft kiss. The whisper of his breath on my skin makes me shiver.
God, I want this man. Not just his money or his power, but him. The person underneath the badass billionaire facade.
I swallow hard, lost in the heat of his gaze. Part of me wants to launch myself into his arms, but part of our ease is that it's cool to just be.
"Was that the reason for your impromptu visit? Or was this all to annoy Brandon?" I twist on the couch, still holding tight to his hand.
"Annoying that man always lightens my day a bit," Damien admits with a smirk. "But I actually had something else to talk to you about."
"What is it?"
After a moment, Damien exhales a heavy sigh, and the change in his demeanor sends the butterflies in my stomach scattering. I recognize that look all too well—the one people wear when they're carrying bad news they don't know how to share.
"You're going to be a little upset about this," he admits.
"Spit it out already. Don't try to protect me by lying to me," I warn him.
"I'll always tell you the truth, Andrea."
Damien reaches for a leather briefcase tucked beside his feet, one I hadn't noticed before. He fumbles with the clasp, then produces a stack of papers—letters and notes.
The photocopies show handwriting that's hasty and smeared. "What's all this?"
"Letters from your stalker," Damien admits.
For a moment, the air is knocked out of my lungs.
"What...?"
I glance down at the documents, my heart pounding in my chest.
Stalker? Letters? What is he talking about?
Brandon said the matter was already resolved.
He lied.
"I don't understand," I say, my voice shaking slightly. "Brandon's been keeping this from me?"
Damien nods grimly, his jaw clenched. "It seems that way. He claims it's to protect you, but I find that hard to believe."
I snatch the letters from his grasp, my hands trembling as I shuffle through the pages. The handwriting is jagged and uneven, the words scrawled across the page like a frantic scream.
You're mine. You'll always be mine.
A chill runs down my spine as I read the disturbing message. How could Brandon keep something like this from me?
"There are more," Damien says quietly, handing me the rest of the letters.
I rifle through them, my stomach churning with each new threat, each twisted proclamation of obsession. Some of the letters are rambling, incoherent rants, while others are chillingly lucid and calculated.
