If I saw him with someone else, it would bother me. Of course it would. But I would bottle my feelings and accept the inevitable.
The bedroom door opened a moment later, and Damien slowly walked into the room. With his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, he approached me with empty eyes. He glanced at the door as if he expected Liam to return before he looked at me. He was the strong and silent type, so he didn’t say much in general. He didn’t say a lot now. “You alright?”
I nodded. “Yeah…I’m sorry about that.”
He shook his head. “No need to apologize. I don’t blame the guy, honestly.”
I crossed my arms over my chest.
“If I lost you, I’d be devastated too.”
9
Damien
Hades must have asked the front desk to call him when I stepped into the building because he barreled down the hallway like a bullet—with me as his target. His arms swung hard with his movements, and the murderous expression on his face told me exactly what he was pissed about.
I stopped in front of my door and slid my hands into my pockets. “Bad day, huh?”
That only pissed him off more. “What the fuck, Damien?” He stopped just inches from me, his red face covered in rivers of veins. There were two on his forehead, forming a noticeable V shape. He was sweating like he had just gone for a run, even though the AC was always set to 68.
“How do I look so good?” I glanced down at my suit. “Jessica. She picks out all my clothes—”
He held his fist and closed it, his knuckles turning white. He shut his eyes hard, trying to control himself from pulling out his knife and shanking me between the ribs. “I swear to fucking god…”
“I thought we only prayed on Sundays—”
He slammed his closed fist into my face.
I jerked back with the hit, but it didn’t hurt so bad because I knew it was coming. I felt the blood drool from the corner of my mouth and wiped it away with my thumb. His fist didn’t hurt my face, but the action did. For as long as we’d known each other, we’d never struck each other…for over ten years.
I straightened my spine and faced Hades. “Nice shot.” I wiped away the blood on the sleeve of my suit—even though it cost me ten thousand euros. Maybe the blood would wash out and I could donate it.
“De Luca was one of our biggest clients. What the fuck did you do?”
“The guy was a dick.”
His eyes were wide. “Answer the goddamn question.”
I’d finally stopped bleeding, so I didn’t need to keep wiping away the blood that had dripped down my chin. “Asked me to put his ex-wife back on his account.”
His eyes shifted back and forth at supersonic speed because he was completely bewildered. “Why is that a problem?”
“Because she came in a few weeks ago and asked to be removed.”
“So?” I hissed. “Just do what the fuck he says.”
“She’s just gonna come in and ask me to do it again.”
He threw down his arms. “So? Their marital bullshit is their problem. Let them deal with it.”
“She’s our client too, asshole.”
He stopped narrowing his eyes so he could see my full expression, take in my complete reaction. Seconds passed as his intuition kicked in. He was a smart guy, could read people with little stimuli. “You better not be fucking her.”
“What does it matter if I am?”
He lost his temper again and dragged his palms down the front of his face. “Jesus fucking Christ…”
“They’ve been divorced six months. It’s not like it happened yesterday.”
He threw out his arms. “Doesn’t fucking matter.”
“She’s a single woman. I’m a single guy.”
“Does he know?”
“No.” If he stopped pestering Annabella, he would probably never know.
“Thank fucking god.”
“I couldn’t care less if he knew.”
Hades crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed on my face. “Know how he earns his money?”
Never cared enough to check. I shook my head.
“Death fighting.”
There were lots of underground fighting rings. People put down their bets and made millions. But death fighting was rare.
“And he’s undefeated.”
Okay…that was a little impressive.
“Fix this, Damien.” He stepped back and prepared to turn away.
“No.” I had way too much pride to ask him to return.
“What the fuck did you say?” He turned back to me, his head cocked. “He was my client until you screwed it up. If you don’t do it, I will. And you owe me, asshole. You owe me for a lot of shit.”
He was going to throw it in my face forever. “Doesn’t matter what I owe you. We aren’t friends, so what does it matter?”
His eyes narrowed. “You were never really sorry, were you?”
I was…from the bottom of my heart. But I refused to say it.
“If you don’t fix this, I will. And when I do, I’ll tell him you’re fucking his wife.”