I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him work.
As if he’d been a contractor in a previous life, he worked step by step, knowing exactly what to do next without even checking. He got the door off the frame and then leaned it against the wall across the hall.
“Do you need help?”
He pulled the door closer and got to work. “No.” He lined up the door then attached it with screws and tools. It only took him fifteen minutes to change the doors and move my locks, being far more efficient than my super would have been. When he was finished, he tested the swing, making sure it was perfectly level with the floor. “Shut the door and lock it.”
I did as he asked and bolted everything.
He twisted the knob and tested it from the outside. Then he kicked it for good measure.
I jerked back at the loud sound.
He knocked when he was finished.
I unlocked all the locks again and opened it.
“Good.” He left the other door across the hall then entered my apartment.
Watching him take care of me like that was touching, especially since I didn’t ask. I could have asked the manager of the building to do it, but Damien would rather do it himself. He didn’t even pay someone to do it; he did it with his bare hands. “Thank you…”
He stopped in front of me and stared, his green eyes searching my gaze for something. Maybe he saw my sincerity. Maybe he saw how much the simple gesture meant to me. The softness in his eyes quickly disappeared. “What happened with Liam?”
Our nice moment was destroyed. “Nothing good.”
He flicked on the lights because he probably thought it felt like a cave. “Be more specific.” He stood in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest, not extending any kind of affection. He used to touch me whenever he could, find any excuse to make that happen. But once I went through the heartbreak of Liam’s betrayal, Damien gave me more space than he ever had.
“He’ll only drop his vendetta if I take him back.”
Damien’s eyes immediately narrowed at the request, as if he hadn’t anticipated something so absurd.
“Says he was never given a fair chance. I lied to him about your identity, and if he’d had that information, everything would have been different. He would have made other choices to make this marriage work.”
Damien continued to show the same coldness. “Don’t say yes, especially not on my account.”
“I didn’t.”
“Good.” He dropped his arms and leaned against the back of the couch. He stared at the opposite wall for a while before he turned his head in my direction. “You tried. That gives us one other option—and you know what it is.”
He was asking for permission to kill my ex-husband—again. “And I’m just supposed to say yes?”
Devoid of all emotion, he stared at me with empty eyes.
“I can’t just condone that.”
“Well, if you don’t, he’s gonna kill me.” His voice rose. “You prefer that?”
“Of course not.”
“Then give me your blessing.”
I dropped my chin to my chest and tucked my hair behind my ear, feeling the blood completely drain to my feet. “You don’t understand, Damien. I was married to him—”
“I understand you don’t want him killed. But he’s making you choose—not me.”
I positioned myself directly across from him, my back against the wall. My hands crossed over my chest and gripped each of my arms, feeling defeated by a battle I’d never fought. “He was different today.”
His eyes were steady as he held my gaze.
“He was…malicious, maniacal, crazy…”
“What did he say to you?”
“That regardless of my choice, the outcome would be the same. He would take me.”
His eyes narrowed, emitting a sudden change of energy. Now he was the one who was a little maniacal.
“But in this scenario, he would also kill you…which he prefers.”
“Annabella.” Without raising his voice, he conveyed the seriousness of this situation, the fear that gripped him by the chest. “I’m not afraid of him, but I’m afraid of what he’ll do. That’s a serious threat, and we need to have a serious response.”
“I don’t know… Would he really take me? What does that mean?”
“I don’t want to know.” He pushed off the couch and straightened. “Pack your things. You’re staying with me.”
I looked up to meet his gaze, shocked by what he’d just said. “That will only make it worse—”
“You can’t stay here alone anymore. If he meant what he said, you’re in serious danger.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me—”
“But he might take you away and lock you in a tower somewhere.”
Oh my god…would Liam really do that? He wasn’t himself at lunch. He was delirious with rage, his eyes so cold they were frozen.
“And there’s nowhere safer in this world than with me.”
“If Liam knows I’m staying with you, he’ll assume—”
“I don’t give a shit what he assumes. He already wants to kill me, so what difference does it make?”
I didn’t have an argument against any of that, but I was still afraid to stay with Damien. We’d never had that kind of proximity, constantly being together, living under the same roof. Our time together had been so brief. This was more intimate than it ever had been before. “Then he really will kill you.”
“He can try.”
All of this was my fault. If I’d left my job and removed myself from Damien’s life, none of this would have happened. Now, Damien’s life was in danger, and his opponent was the strongest man I’d ever known. “Maybe I should just say yes—”
“No.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you—”
“Then let me kill him.” He stepped closer to me, his eyes watching mine closely. “If you want to keep me safe, let me get rid of the problem.” He pleaded as he looked into my gaze, wanting my blessing to end the life of someone I’d once loved.
The blood would be on my hands if I said yes.
“Annabella.”
I closed my eyes. “Let me try to talk to him again—”
“No.” He pressed me into the wall, cornering me like I was fleeing prey. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near him again…”
I couldn’t give Damien my blessing. I just couldn’t do it. How could I live with myself if I allowed that to happen? I could call Liam. I could plead with him. There had to be a better solution.
Damien’s expression filled with disappointment as he stepped away from me. But no, it was more than just disappointment; it was deeper than that. It was chronic resentment, subtle rage. His demeanor was packed with betrayal, as if I’d stabbed him in the back with a dirty knife. “Get your things.” With his gaze on the floor, he slid his hands into his pockets.
“Damien—”
“I told you to get your things.” He refused to look at me.
“Please look at me…”
He couldn’t resist the plea in my voice and raised his head. “My not wanting you to kill him has nothing to do with my feelings for you.”