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  I slid my hands into my pockets as I stopped near the window.

  “Talk to Liam?”

  Geez, he wasn’t gonna let this go.

  “Don’t show your face until you get it done.” He warned me with his gaze before he turned away and walked off.

  I rolled my eyes and turned on my heel. “Pain in my ass…”

  After a bit of detective work and calling in some favors, I located Liam at a gym in the city. He probably had a private weight room in the convenience of his home, but he met his trainer at a local spot a few blocks from his home.

  I was dreading this.

  After the beef we’d had, he would never come to the bank…unless I got on my knees and begged.

  Fuck that shit.

  I walked inside and found him in the center of a boxing ring. His trainer held up padded boards for him to slam his fists into. He was shirtless, all of his cut muscles and tattoos visible. He really was a beefy guy.

  A few pretty girls hung their arms on the ropes outside the ring, dressed in sports bras and little gym shorts. They watched Liam like he was the next man they each wanted to conquer.

  He was working so hard to get his ex-wife back, so I wondered if he was screwing any pretty woman who checked him out. He did cheat on her the second they lost their baby, so I didn’t have high expectations for the guy.

  With sweat dripping down his face and flushed cheeks, he finished the set then stepped back. He hopped in place and shook out the tension in his biceps and triceps. He paced the ring before he pulled off his gloves and grabbed his jug of water from the ground.

  I stood opposite the girls, my arms resting on the ropes.

  He chugged the water as his eyes moved to me. It took him two heartbeats to recognize me, and when he did, he stopped drinking, so the liquid splashed all over him. He pulled it away from his face then marched toward me. “Got a death wish, motherfucker?” He threw his bottle on the ground, the water spilling all over the place.

  The entire gym went quiet, the sound of bars and weights suddenly going silent.

  He opened an access point through the ropes and slipped through.

  I backed up and returned my hands to my pockets, responding to his hostility with indifference.

  He marched toward me, his muscled mass covered in sweat and tattoos. He stopped in front of me and stared at me with wide eyes, as if he was waiting for the right moment to give me an uppercut that would knock me out.

  Maybe visiting him during his workout was a bad idea. He was pumped full of adrenaline, testosterone, and protein. He was trained in the art of killing, and he probably wanted to turn me into his next carcass.

  “Caught you at a bad time?” I asked like a smartass.

  His eyes narrowed. “I just need one reason to bash your skull in…”

  “That wasn’t it?”

  He lunged at me.

  I didn’t move. I didn’t blink.

  It was a fake-out, and he stilled after his failed attempt. “I’m not coming back, if that’s what this is about. I warned you.”

  “We both know no one can help you like we can. If you don’t launder your money right, you’re gonna have a lot more problems later. We know all the right people to get the bad people off our backs. And the biggest reason of all…you’re leaving a lot of money on the table. You love money, right?” I pointed at my chest. “Because I love money, and I’m not leaving a single euro on the table.”

  He continued to breathe hard, his shoulders moving up and down like he was still exhausted after beating the shit out of the pads his trainer held. “I don’t want to work with a jackass like you.”

  “Good news, you won’t have to. You’re Hades’s client.”

  He continued his hard stare.

  “Come on, let’s cut the shit, Liam. You need us, and we need you.”

  “Why are you here instead of him?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Said I fucked it up, so I should fix it…whatever that means.”

  “Alright.” He stepped closer to me. “But on one condition.”

  Fuck.

  “Apologize. Bitch.”

  No way in hell was I gonna do that. I’d rather Hades shoot me than forsake my pride like that. “I’m not gonna apologize, but before you get all huffy and puffy, just remember you don’t want me to.”

  Both of his hands tightened into fists.

  “Your ex-wife is also a client of ours. Wouldn’t you want me to execute her wishes? Protect her privacy? Treat her with the same respect I treat you? What if a new guy came along and demanded the same things you are? Wouldn’t you want me to have her back?” It was a pretty compelling argument. I could negotiate and manipulate when I wanted to. I had more brains than Hades gave me credit for.

  Liam still wore that ticked expression, but the rest of his body softened a bit. “If there is some other jackass, you tell me. I’ll take care of him.”

  Good to know.

  “Fine. I’ll come back.”

  “I’ll let Hades know.”

  He turned around and headed back to the ring. “But you better not piss me off again, Damien.”

  I had a feeling that might happen. “Can’t promise anything…”

  I let myself into Hades’s office. “I fixed it.”

  His hand was on the mouse, and his eyes were focused on the computer. After he clicked on something, he turned his head toward me, that restrained hatred still in his gaze…constantly. “Congratulations. You did your job.”

  This never-ending hostility was getting the best of me, feeding the flames of my temper with oxygen and gasoline. How could Hades hate me so much after all this time that he sneered at me every chance he got? “I thought you would be different now that you’re a father—with another on the way.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly.

  “What kind of example are you setting?”

  He was still as he processed my insult. It took him several seconds to absorb every single syllable. “My son will know that years of friendship aren’t the equivalent of loyalty. He will recognize a toxic relationship and how to abandon it. He will know how to be a real man, to think about others besides himself. That’s what I’ll teach him, Damien.” The room was frozen like a freezer running on full blast. “What will you teach your son? Arrogance? Selfishness? Or maybe you’ll never have a relationship with your son because you’ll destroy that too.”

  14

  Annabella

  After I finished my shift, I showered and got ready to see Damien.

  I’d been thinking about that kiss all day.

  I was so angry with him, but he quickly changed my feelings with his charm, his smile, and those soft lips. That man could talk me out of anything because he was so suave.

  My hair was curled, and my makeup was perfect.

  But then I got a disappointing text from Damien. I have to cancel tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  The clipped tone of his message told me he was in a bad mood, so something must have happened after he’d left my apartment. The more I got to know him, the more I recognized his brooding tantrums. Are you home?

  Why?

  Just answer the question.

  Yes.

  I grabbed my purse and walked out the door.

  Patricia let me inside, and I took the long trek to the top floor where his bedroom was located. A bottle of scotch was in my hand because I noticed he drank it when he was home. I reached his bedroom door and tapped my knuckles against the wood.

  After a long pause, he answered. “Enter.” His tone was dark, like he’d been in a sour mood consistently since he’d texted me.

  I stepped inside and saw him sitting on the couch, shirtless and in black sweatpants. A bottle of scotch was already open, and his glass was empty, with the exception of a few drops at the bottom. The TV was on, and a football match played on the screen. The enormous fire in the hearth burned with powerful flames. He looked like Dracula sitting at the top of his castle. “I thought you could use
a drink, but it looks like you’re covered…”

  He turned his head at the sound of my voice, his eyes narrowed in annoyance rather than pleasant surprise. He was still as he stared at me, as if it took him some time to understand the situation that had just developed.

  Maybe stopping by was a mistake.

  I shut the door behind me then approached his living room. The fans on the TV yelled when a shot was missed, and that sound filled the room around us.

  His eyes continued to follow me. “What part of ‘see you tomorrow’ didn’t you understand?”

  I did come over uninvited, but I wouldn’t feel guilty about it. “You’ve never done the same?” If I didn’t take his phone calls because I didn’t want to talk, he just came over anyway. And when I didn’t answer the door, he threatened to break it down.

  He sighed, acknowledging the hypocrisy.

  “I thought you could use a friend. Someone to talk to.” I set down the bottle. “It’s better than sitting here alone in the dark, right?” I poured myself a glass then sat in the armchair across from him.

  He leaned back into the couch, his stomach still tight and hard even though he wasn’t trying to flex his abdominals. He ran his fingers through his slightly unkempt hair then looked at the TV, a defeated sag to his frame.

  “Or we can just sit here and not talk…”

  He propped his chin on his closed fist and stared at me.

  “I can leave if you really want me to.” If he was closed off like this, then maybe it was pointless.

  He closed his eyes for a second and dragged his fingers down his face. “Have you had dinner?”

  I shook my head.

  He grabbed his phone and texted Patricia. Then he left his phone on the table beside him. “You didn’t need to bring this.” He grabbed the bottle and filled his glass. “I buy you things, alright?”

  “Who said it was for you?” I took a drink.

  He smiled slightly, but it only lasted a few seconds before it disappeared again. He took a drink then set it on the table.

  “So…you want to talk about it?”

  He shrugged.

  “It seems like you have more bad days than good.”

  His words came out sarcastic. “You’re very observant.”

  “Talk to me, Damien.” When Liam betrayed me, I had friends to talk it through with. I lost them in the divorce, but they were there at the time. “We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

  “I don’t have a lot of friends, but I know you don’t fall into that category.”

  “I could.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to. I like what we have…whatever it is.”

  “Then let’s make it our own. Talk to me.”

  He stared at me for a while before he grabbed the remote and turned down the volume. “My partner at the bank and I don’t get along.”

  “Why does that bother you?”

  “Because he used to be my best friend…” His eyes filled with noticeable sadness when he said the words, showing his heart for the first time. The pain was obvious, the burden of the regret he felt.

  “That’s the person you lost…” It wasn’t an old lover. Now it made sense, because he said he’d never committed to someone before, but he talked about this person like they were the love of his life.

  He nodded. “I’ve known him since our years at university…that was over a decade ago. We started our street business and found quick success. We didn’t know how to protect all that cash, so we started the bank to launder the money—and launder it for other clients.”

  It was the most he’d ever revealed about himself. Since we’d met, we protected our privacy like buried treasure, but now we’d stopped doing that because there was more between us than either of us expected. I hadn’t known Damien long, but I was quickly drawn to him, feeling vastly different than I did with my other flings. I already felt close to him, felt something special for him.

  “We’re enemies now…and it fucking sucks.”

  “What happened?”

  He sighed.

  “You don’t have to talk about it.”

  “No…I’m just ashamed.”

  “Oh…”

  He was quiet for a long time, his eyes reflecting the height of the flames as he stared into the hearth. “I made stupid choices with the drug business. We had an enemy closing in, and I made a lot of bad decisions, decisions were there irrational and arrogant. As a result…his wife was taken and raped.” He closed his eyes as he finished, carrying an invisible burden that was visibly heavy.

  I couldn’t halt my reaction. “Oh my god…”

  “We got her back, and she’s okay. They have a son named Andrew and another boy on the way. But Hades could never forgive me for what I did, no matter how many times I apologized. His wife forgave me and wanted us to reconcile, but his grudge is too strong.” He continued to stare at the fire. “He left the drug business because of the perils that come with it, but he continues to work at the bank because that’s fairly safe. He tried to buy me out, but I refused. But every time we deal with each other…everything goes to shit.”

  I was speechless because it was such a horrible story to listen to. There were no kind words I could say to make him feel better, nothing that would be fitting.

  “The worst part is the way he looks at me…like he wishes I were dead.” He ran his hands up his cheek in frustration. “And today he said some tough shit that made me feel lower than dirt. I understand I fucked up, but he’s been torturing me ever since.” He didn’t look at me, as if he were too ashamed to meet my gaze.

  “I’m so sorry.” What else could I say to that?

  His eyes fell to the ground.

  Now I understood his inherent melancholy. There always seemed to be something on his mind, a shadow clouding the brightness of his eyes. “How long has it been?”

  “About nine months.”

  That seemed like enough time for Hades to move on…especially if his wife had.

  “This is why I don’t like to talk.” He lifted his gaze and looked at me. “You don’t see me the same.”

  “That’s not true,” I whispered. “I just…feel for you.” I didn’t judge him for his mistake because it wasn’t intentional. It clearly ate at him every single day because he cared. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have that dead look in his eyes.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  Damien got to his feet to let Patricia in.

  Just as he walked away, a message popped up on his phone.

  Talk to me. It was from someone named Sofia.

  I shouldn’t have looked because it was an invasion of privacy, but it was instinct. A bright light came on, and my eyes darted to it. The message was short, so it was read in a nanosecond. The name was easy to see too.

  I felt my heart sink the second I saw it.

  He wasn’t mine, so I shouldn’t care. We agreed this would be casual. I was the one who said I didn’t want anything serious, that it was too soon after my divorce. So I had no right to feel jealousy…betrayal.

  Until I told him I wanted more.

  He didn’t pick up on my somber mood because the subject of our conversation was already so dark. It was a relief I didn’t have to pretend I was fine, to give false answers to his questions.

  We had dinner at the table in silence then returned to the living room. The game was still on, but he hadn’t seemed interested in it from the instant I’d walked inside. He returned to his spot on the couch, his stomach still flat despite the dinner he’d just had.

  This time, I sat beside him on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest to get comfortable.

  He grabbed the blanket on his side of the couch and handed it to me.

  I pulled it over my body, touched by the gesture.

  He stared ahead and looked at the TV. “Let me know when you want me to take you home.”

  I thought my sour mood would make me want to leave, but knowing there were other women in his life ma
de me want to stay. He said there was no one else, so if Sofia was another fling, he’d lied about it.

  But maybe she was an old fling…who still wanted him.

  If I left, would she replace me?

  I didn’t want to vacate my spot so someone else could take it. “I thought I could sleep here.” It was almost ten in the evening.

  “I’m not in the mood to fuck.” The words were callous, rough on the ears.

  “Neither am I.” I just wanted to be with him. It was nice to sleep in that soft bed with his strong frame beside me. I never did sleepovers after Liam, but now I craved them. It was nice to have a big man beside me again, to feel safe all through the night. My fingers were always in contact with his warm skin, the powerful muscles underneath. It was comfortable…to not worry about anything. I didn’t think I’d feel that way for a long time, but it happened so quickly. Damien had to be special to make me feel that way. Really special.

  He swallowed the last of his scotch and turned off the TV. “Then let’s go to bed.” He entered the bedroom and did his nightly rituals like I wasn’t there. The sound of the running faucet and the hum of his electric toothbrush escaped the bathroom.

  I stripped out of my clothes and found a t-shirt in his top drawer. I pulled back the crisp, soft sheets then slid inside, my skin feeling the gentle friction move past. My phone was left on the nightstand, switched to silent mode, and I waited for him to join me.

  He stepped out of the bathroom in just his boxers, his muscled frame so perfect, he seemed to be chiseled from stone. His back was the most impressive, every single muscle prominent to create beautiful lines on either side of his spine. He had narrow hips that led to muscled thighs. He turned off the fireplace so the flames disappeared, then returned the booze to the wet bar.

  I stared at him, watching him turn around and walk toward the bed. His strong pecs mixed with his powerful shoulders, and the beautiful abs of his stomach were the topography of a mountain range.