by Penelope Sky
“Annabella and I aren’t even together. Not sure if or when that’s gonna happen…”
“Yeah, I get it,” he said. “I just know that it was the right decision for me. I wish I’d made it sooner. Because once you love someone, when they suffer…you suffer more. And trust me—you never want your woman to suffer.”
I didn’t need further explanation because I knew exactly what he was saying, exactly what he was referring to. And if something happened to Annabella…I wouldn’t recover.
Never.
Patricia placed my dinner on the table and poured me a glass of wine to pair with it. She even set a small vase of flowers beside it, as if I needed the decorative touch. Then she walked out and left me to eat alone.
I sat at the table with the flames from the fire against my back and opened my laptop. I usually worked while I ate. Otherwise, I stared ahead blankly, with no entertainment whatsoever. Annabella hadn’t knocked on my door since she’d moved in. She hardly ever texted me either, only if she needed an answer to something.
I didn’t encourage her to have dinner with me or watch a movie in my bedroom. If she wanted to see me, she knew where to find me.
I took a bite of my food just as someone knocked on the door.
I knew it wasn’t Patricia because she would just come back in if she forgot something. My pulse quickened a bit because my heart was sensitive to Annabella’s presence. When confronted with life-threatening danger, I had the heart rate of someone in deep sleep. But she affected me in a way no one else could. “It’s open.”
She pushed the door open and held a tray in her hands. Patricia made her the same dinner, serving it to her in her quarters so she could eat alone. She held the tray as she stared at me timidly, like the expressionless look on my face meant I wanted to be alone. “Can I join you?”
Did she even need to ask?
“I understand if you want to be alone—”
I kicked the chair under the table so it slid back. “Sit.”
She set the tray down then sat across from me, wearing skintight yoga pants and a loose sweater she liked to wear around the house. Her hair framed her face perfectly with smooth strands, and she didn’t wear makeup because she probably expected to go to sleep soon.
But I still thought she was stunning. Maybe it was because I hadn’t seen her in so long that I’d forgotten how beautiful she was, how much I wanted her, how lonely I felt being next door to the woman I loved.
I poured her a glass of wine.
She mouthed “Thank you” and pulled the glass closer to her.
Now I didn’t have an appetite. All I could do was focus on the woman across from me. My heart palpitated with a distinct rush. My fingertips felt numb. My breathing changed. Maybe on the outside, I looked completely calm, but underneath, I felt a hailstorm of sensations.
“What are you working on?” She glanced at my laptop.
I closed it and pushed it to the side. “Bank stuff.”
“I remember you used to work from home a lot.”
“I’m a workaholic.”
“With two jobs, that’s not surprising.” She cut into her meat and took a few bites. Her eyes were downcast most of the time, and her posture was relaxed even though it’d been days since we’d seen each other.
I grabbed my fork and continued to eat, elbows on the table because I didn’t give a shit. Patricia had picked a subtle white wine to go with the chicken, creating another delicious meal that I took for granted…like all other things.
“Where did you find Patricia?” she asked. “She’s the best chef ever.”
“She went to culinary school in Paris. She worked in a bakery for a few years in Greece, but then her husband died.”
“She didn’t want to stay?”
I shrugged. “No. She said the memories were too painful.”
“Oh…that’s too bad.”
“I think she sees me as a son—or something like that. She picks up all my laundry off the floor, makes my bed, cooks my meals… I think she enjoys it.”
She chuckled. “No woman enjoys picking up your underwear off the floor.”
I paused before I took a bite, smiling slightly at her joke. “That’s not what she tells me.”
“Because you pay her.”
“Touché.” I grabbed a piece of asparagus and bit the tip off the stem. “How are you? I haven’t seen you much.” I expected Liam to confront me at the bank every day, but he never showed his face. Hitting me at the same place twice was stupid because I was expecting it. Or maybe he assumed I would assume that…so I wouldn’t expect it. In this game, you had to anticipate everything.
She turned melancholy at the question. “I’ve been spending most of my time in my room. There’s a nice tub in there, and Patricia always has the fire going the second I get home from work. The food is great, way better than room service at the Tuscan Rose…” She suddenly looked embarrassed. “Don’t tell Sofia I said that. And the space is really comfortable. So, I’ve been fine.”
“I didn’t ask how you’re enjoying your stay at Hotel Damien. I asked how you are doing.”
She started to push her food around with her fork, her eyes downcast for a moment. “I’m stressed, to be honest.”
“Has he called you?”
“No. That’s why I’m worried.”
“Maybe he’s cooled off.”
She gave a sarcastic chuckle. “That man never cools off. Does that mean you haven’t heard from him?”
I gave a slight shake of my head. “Maybe his injury has forced him to recuperate.”
She gave a slight nod. “Yeah… He told me you shot him.” We’d never actually discussed the event.
“I had no other choice. He took my car hostage so I couldn’t get out of there.”
“I know. I’m not upset about it.”
“Because if I wanted to shoot to kill, my aim would have been different.” I shot him in a fleshy part of his arm, away from the bones, away from the arteries, barely grazing his flesh.
She pulled her gaze away. “I know, Damien.” Her silverware slightly cut into the plate, the gentle tapping of metal against china. She cut her food into small bites because she had a petite mouth, but she could fit my big cock in there, so she could take bigger bites if she wanted to.
I ate in silence, watching her while she avoided my gaze. We had a meal together like two friends, even though we’d never felt like friends. “I’ve been thinking about this…”
She looked up as she sliced off a piece of meat.
“You shouldn’t go into the Tuscan Rose anymore.”
The knife made a squeaky sound against the plate as she lost control of the utensil. “What?”
“That’s the perfect place to grab you.”
“In a public place?” she asked incredulously. “When there are people around? Security? Cameras?”
“That’s not gonna stop him. It wouldn’t stop me.”
“Well, I think—”
“All he has to do is point a gun at Sofia, and you’ll cooperate.”
Her argument diminished from her gaze instantly. “So, I have to quit my job? That I love?”
“No. I’m sure Sofia will let you work from home.”
“That’s still a lot to ask. I haven’t even been working there a year…”
“She’ll understand.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of her generosity.”
“That’s not how she’ll see it,” I said gently.
“And what am I going to do here?”
I shrugged. “You can pick up my underwear.”
That made her burst with a chuckle.
I liked seeing that carefree expression, seeing that glow in her eyes. It reminded me of old times, when it was just the two of us and we were free. “You could hang out with my father.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot he lived here. I haven’t seen him.”
“He stays in his room.”
“And I’ve stayed in mine…”
/>
“I know you don’t want to be cooped up, but I don’t see a way around it.”
“Yeah.”
“But every time I see Liam, you’re putting me at a huge disadvantage. I’m fighting to disarm, not kill, but that’s not the case for him. And while I’m strong, I’m not Batman.”
The light left her gaze as she dropped her eyes.
“And if it really comes down to it—and I have no choice—I’m not going to let him take my life. I love you and want us to be together, but losing my life so he could take you away isn’t worth it to me.”
“I understand.”
At least we were on the same page.
I returned to eating my dinner, out of ammunition to keep the conversation going.
She didn’t have anything to say either, probably because this problem hung over her like a cloud.
It hung heavy over me too. “I hope you stop barricading yourself in your bedroom…because I would like to see you.”
She turned back to me, affection in her gaze. “That was lonely, so I don’t think I’ll do that anymore.”
Six
Annabella
Spring was in full force, bringing a distinct warmth that melted the frost on all the sidewalks. But since I was inside most of the time, I sat in front of the fire while I worked on my laptop. My bedroom didn’t have a balcony, and I assumed Damien had put me in there for that very reason.
My phone rang on the cushion beside me, and I grabbed it with the assumption it was Damien or Sofia.
But it was Liam.
I’d been here for a week without seeing his name on my screen. I knew my time of peace was limited and this call was unavoidable. Instead of ignoring it, I accepted the call, knowing it would be worse if I brushed him off. I answered wordlessly, not sure what to say after our last conversation.
He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone was so menacing, so frightening. “You’re living with him now?”
So, he was watching me, deducing my whereabouts by stalking. “It’s not what you think—”
“I’m sure it’s exactly what I think, Anna.” His voice was frostbitten.
“What did you expect me to do? You threatened to take me…whatever that means.”
“I expected you to have more class than fucking Loverboy right away.”
“You mean the kind of class when you fucked someone else while we were married? Twice?” I was sick of him twisting the story, using my relationship with Damien to justify every bad decision he’d made. Fuck no, I wasn’t putting up with that shit. “I’m staying in a different guest room. Sometimes we share dinner together, but for the most part, I don’t see him.”
“You expect me to believe that when you’re a fucking liar?”
“We’re never getting back together, so why would I care about sparing your feelings?” I asked. “I’m telling you the truth because I have no reason to lie. I’m not going to jump into bed with someone else when I’m still hurt by what you did. That’s not fair to him.”
“So, it sounds like you care more about Loverboy’s feelings than mine.”
“He’s the one protecting me, so I guess so.”
“Protecting you?” he asked, his voice rising.
“Yes. From whatever you plan to do.”
“My plan is to get my wife back.”
“Well, I’m not your wife, and I don’t want to be with you. So, that sounds like a pretty scary threat.”
He was quiet as he breathed over the phone, his rage audible in the silence. “You think you’re safe in there?”
“Yes. Otherwise, you would have gotten to me by now.” I felt stupid provoking him like that, but I was tired of this torment. It made me understand that Damien had a valid point, that this wasn’t going to end until one of them was dead—and it shouldn’t be Damien…whose only crime was loving me.
He breathed heavily for a while longer. “I want to kill him first.”
“You’ll never have me if you kill him.”
“It’s pretty easy to force a woman to do whatever I want…”
“Then I’ll kill myself.”
Now he was dead silent.
“I would rather be dead than be forced. You kill Damien, then I’ll kill myself. That’s the deal.”
He clearly didn’t know what to say because he was quiet for so long.
Maybe I’d finally found a solution to this.
“I’m calling your bluff, Anna.”
Suicide had never crossed my mind, even in the darkest of times. I didn’t really mean it now; that was true. But if Damien was really dead on the floor and Liam was about to make me his prisoner, what would I have to live for? “It’s not a bluff, Liam. If you kill the man I love, then I have no reason to live.”
“And if he kills me, you’ll be just fine?”
“No. That’s why I asked him not to. Liam, you’ve had your chances with me, and you blew them both. If you love me, let me go. Let me be happy.”
He was silenced again, breathing quietly over the line.
I hoped I’d said the right thing to fix this, to manage this crisis.
But then he hung up.
Patricia knocked on my door before she opened it. “Miss Anna?”
“Hey, Patricia.” I turned around on the sofa to look at her standing by the door.
“I was going to bring up your lunch, but Miss Catalina is here having lunch with her father. Would you like to join them?”
“Uh…who’s Catalina?”
“Damien’s sister.”
“Oh…” He’d mentioned her before, but not by name. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude.”
“She asked me to extend the invitation. She’s very lovely.”
Having lunch with them was better than sitting here alone. “Sure. What’s his father’s name?”
“Richard.” She started to close the door. “I’ll let them know you’ll be joining.”
I entered the dining room, where cathedral-style windows took up the west side of the wall. Sunlight flooded the dining table, where tall white candles and various flower arrangements were placed across the surface. A young brunette sat there, thin and in a bright pink dress. She spoke quietly with her father, an older man who contained subtle hints of Damien’s handsomeness.
Now I felt nervous, felt my heart drop into my stomach, because I was meeting his family for the first time. “Thanks for inviting me to lunch.” I walked to the dining table and watched them both turn to look at me. “Ooh…everything looks good.” I glanced at the tea sandwiches and individual salads, full of juicy slices of tomatoes, thick pecans, and other delicious toppings.
Catalina halted her conversation with her father and turned to me, unintimidating despite her ridiculous beauty. Her pink dress had ruffles along the straps and down the back of the shoulders on each side. She wore thick mascara, smoky eye makeup, and painted lips. “So, you do exist?” She rose to her feet and greeted me with a hug that practically crushed me. “Damien doesn’t tell us anything.” She pulled away. “He didn’t tell us you were hot. He didn’t tell us you were cooped up in this castle like a princess. He mentioned you in passing this morning like it wasn’t a big deal. Jackass.” She rolled her eyes then patted me on the shoulder. “So sorry about that.”
I liked her already. “He mentioned you were a ballet dancer.”
“Yes. My feet are killing me as we speak.” She turned to her father. “Daddy, this is Anna.”
I came around the table so I could extend a hand. “Nice to meet you, sir. You look a lot like your son.”
He started to rise from his chair.
“Oh, don’t worry about standing…”
He gave me an affectionate smile then wrapped his arms around me to hug me. He patted me on the back despite his obvious frailty. Then he pulled away, his eyes much younger than the rest of his appearance. “You’re going to give me grandchildren. So, damn right, I’m gonna stand.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Uh…”
Ca
talina patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t freak out. Daddy is just—”
“You’re the first woman of his I’ve ever seen,” his father continued. “And you’re living here…so let this old man have hope. I’ve told Damien so many times that he’s getting old and he needs to have children. It’s more important than money, drugs, and all that other shit he does.” He gripped the sides of the chair and slowly lowered himself back into the seated position. “And you’re beautiful, so that makes me more thrilled about it.”
Damien was the quiet type, but the rest of his family certainly wasn’t. I had no idea what Damien had said about me to his family, and I was still unsure. I moved around the table and took the seat across from his father, his sister at the head of the table.
Richard stabbed his fork into his salad. “I was older when I had my children, and that’s something I regret. I won’t have as much time with them as I wish I could.”
“Daddy, don’t talk like that.” Catalina patted his arm. “You’re still here.”
“But your mother isn’t,” he said after he chewed his bite. “And she could have had more time with you too if I weren’t so stubborn…”
“Mama is still here, Dad.” Catalina turned back to me. “Anyway, I’m sorry that we freaked you out. My father is just very candid—and I’m even more candid.”
“It’s okay,” I said with a chuckle. “It’s refreshing.”
“Because Damien looks like an old statue?” Catalina made a sour face, looking like an old woman with nothing left to do besides complain. “Like he’s constantly pissed about something?”
Her impression was dead-on, so I laughed. “He usually is pissed about something.”
“Oh, I know,” she said with a laugh. “Like, pull that stick out of your ass.”
Richard didn’t seem to care about the mocking at his son’s expense.
I would never have expected his family to be so easygoing, especially when Damien was subtly hostile all the time. I spread my napkin in my lap and placed a cucumber sandwich on my plate before I poured the dressing over my salad.
Catalina immediately spoke to me like a girlfriend, as if we’d known each other forever. “So, I went out with this guy the other night…” She told me the details about her date, what she ordered, and how she knew the guy, not caring if it made her father uncomfortable.
