by Measha Stone
But doing that would make her hesitant to accept Jae’s calls in the future, and he needed that lifeline. Instead, he dialed in a favor and put eyes on her apartment. Until he was positive Bertucci had dropped the issue, he wanted her safe.
And then, once it was over, she’d have to deal with him.
Chapter 10
Angelica successfully avoided her phone for two days, but on the third day her father called. Ignoring him would only result in an actual visit, so she picked up before it rolled over to voicemail.
“Angelica.” His stern voice reeked of disappointment.
“I know, Daddy. I’m sorry.” She sank down onto the kitchen chair. She had one job: Be a good daughter. And she’d failed. “I was trying to save the family from trouble with him.”
A heavy sigh. “How many times have I told you? You get into trouble, you come to me or your uncle. Right away. Don’t handle it yourself,” he chastised. “Michael Bertucci is a hard man; he can be a monster, but he would not chance a war between the families over a car accident.”
“What?” She pressed her phone harder to her ear.
“He was playing with you. Humiliating my daughter was a game to him.” Anger rattled his voice. “And you let him. Playing whore in that damn Annex.”
“I didn’t—”
“How many, Angelica? How many men touched you?” he demanded.
“None, Daddy. I swear. Hunter’s friend saw me there. He took me out. No one touched me.” She wasn’t going to recount the time she’d spent with Damien. Her father didn’t need to know those things, and she couldn’t take the pain of thinking about it yet.
She’d half expected Damien to knock down her door, but he’d kept his distance. He even stopped trying to call after a few hours. Instead of telling him what was bothering her, she’d run away, and he’d let her. He probably never wanted to hear from her again. Falling for Bertucci’s lies and then compounding everything by letting Damien touch her. She’d been a complete idiot.
But that stopped now.
“I know it was stupid. My actions were naive, but I really was trying to protect the family. Maybe if just once you treated me like an actual adult and clued me in to the reality of your work, of what our family does, I would have been prepared for this. I would have known better. But you stuck me in a bubble my entire life.” She managed to keep her tone, even though the dam was getting close to bursting in her chest.
“You don’t belong in the family business, Angelica. You know this.” Her father heaved a heavy sigh into the phone. “I’m out of town until next weekend. Your uncle requested your presence at dinner on Sunday. I expect you to be there. Offer your apologies. Damien is a good man, Angelica.”
“What?” she said softly. Of course, he would know Damien, since he worked with Hunter.
“I hear things.” Her father chuckled. “He’s a good man, and if he took you out of that place, he has my blessing.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” she said softly.
“I have sheltered you too much if you believe that. Your mother knows nothing about all of this unpleasantness, and we’re going to keep it that way.”
“And Mr. Bertucci?”
“He won’t be a problem going forward. Your uncle dealt with it.”
“He didn’t—”
“Bertucci, the scum, is alive and well, Angelica. Don’t worry about those things. When I get home, we’ll have a family dinner.”
“I’m thinking of getting a job,” she announced.
“Good. I think that would be good. Get out in the world, but not too far, understand? Your mother would have my head on a platter.” He chuckled.
“Really?”
“Yes. Of course. I never wanted you to live a glass box, but you seemed comfortable with the way things were.”
She wished her father wasn’t on the phone but rather in her kitchen. Why had she been so afraid to go to him with her trouble? He’d always been there for her. But her overwhelming need to make it on her own had caused her to act irrationally. Maybe it wasn’t her family keeping her from the real world. Perhaps it was herself.
“I’ll see you when you get home, then.” Angel smiled into the phone.
“Good. Don’t forget dinner with your uncle.”
“I won’t.”
Uncle Elliott wasn’t a worry. He’d forgive her just as easily. It was Damien she worried about. He’d ordered them both to dinner.
How could she look at Damien after how she’d behaved?
Chapter 11
Elliott Janson sat behind his desk, swirling an ice cube around his glass. Damien folded his hands in front of him, keeping his gaze level with Janson’s. He dealt with the old man on a few matters over the years, but mostly he liked to keep clear of him. There would be none of that this evening.
“My niece is late.” Janson finished his drink and put his glass down on the desk with a clank.
“I’m told she left her apartment twenty minutes ago. She’ll be here momentarily,” Damien reported. Hunter had agreed with him about leaving men stationed outside her apartment until the entire matter had been settled, and those men answered to Damien. It seemed the only person involved in the mess who didn’t understand she belonged to him, was her.
But that would change tonight. Damien would not leave without her in his car. No matter the cost.
“How invested are you in Angelica?” Janson leveled a steady glare on him. He held little regard for the well-being of most others, but he guarded his family with a fierceness to be envied.
“Fully invested.” Damien rolled his shoulders back. If this was to be an inquisition into his character or intentions, he wouldn’t back down.
“Marriage?”
“If she’ll have me when the time is right. I don’t want to rush her.” They’d just found each other, and as determined as he was to make her his forever, he wouldn’t shove her to the altar. Yet.
“She’ll have you.” Janson nodded firmly.
“I won’t have her bullied.” Damien stepped forward. She would not be forced by her family to do anything anymore. She deserved to have a life outside the wills and wants of other people.
Janson tipped his head and tapped his fingers on the edge of his empty glass.
“She’s caused the family some embarrassment with this entire fiasco. Something must come of it.”
“Uncle! I’m so sorry I’m late.” Angelica breezed through the study door, purse dangling from her arm, a set of white gloves gripped in her opposite hand. She was the vision of the past in her black pinup dress, large white lace lapels, and large white buttons trailing down the front of the dress. A thick white belt fit around her waist.
“It’s nothing new with you.” Janson rose from his desk and walked toward her, arms outstretched and a smile warming his otherwise cold exterior.
She hugged him briefly then stepped back, smoothing her skirt with her hands. “Traffic was horrible, and the driver went the wrong way at first. We got all turned around, but I’m here.” She smiled brilliantly.
“Driver?” Damien asked. He hadn’t been told she’d taken any other car but her own.
“Yes. I took a taxi.” Her smile slipped, just a fraction, when her gaze met his. But she recovered nicely and dug into her purse. “I sold my car.”
“What?” Damien stepped toward her, ignoring Janson’s glare.
“Why would you do that, Angelica? You loved that car,” Janson protested. “Did you want a different car? I’m sure your father or I could have gone with you to choose another.”
Damien noticed the tightness in her jaw at her uncle’s words. She didn’t want him or anyone else stepping in to save her day. She was stepping out on her own.
Angel pulled out a thick envelope and handed it to her uncle.
“What’s this?” He opened it. “Angelica, what is this?” he demanded, pulling out a stack of bills.
“Repayment. That’s the money you had to give Michael Bertucci fo
r his car. To fix my mess.” She snapped her purse closed and slung it back on her arm.
“You sold your Maserati to pay me back?” Janson’s eyes narrowed, tone hardened. “I didn’t ask for repayment.”
“I know you didn’t. And I mean no disrespect to you, Uncle. It’s about time I started taking care of myself. I don’t need such a flashy car. I really don’t need a car at all in this city, so I sold it.” She swallowed and turned her attention to Damien. “And I’ve gotten a job.”
“A job?” Janson’s voice lowered. She might as well have told him she was moving back into the Annex.
“Yes. I have a degree in library sciences. A position opened, and I applied. I start Monday.” She took a deep breath and straightened her spine. Damien’s pride for her bloomed.
“I suppose having a hobby is fine,” Janson said.
“Not a hobby. My job. A career if I work hard enough at it. It’s time I stop letting Father pay my way through life.” She kept her gaze locked with Damien’s as she spoke.
“A job at the library isn’t going to pay for that apartment,” Janson pointed out.
“No, it won’t. I’ve already begun looking for something smaller. Something more affordable.”
“Your mother won’t like this.” Janson tossed the pile of cash on his desk.
“She’s fine with it, Uncle Elliot. I spoke to her this morning, and to Father a few days ago.” Angelica didn’t move her focus while she spoke to her uncle.
“Boss.” One of Janson’s men walked in, nodding apologetically for interrupting. “We have a situation…downstairs.”
Janson sighed. “I’ll be there.” He turned to his niece. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to reschedule dinner.”
“That’s all right.” Angelica smiled.
“And you.” Janson turned to Damien. “Do what you can with her, but keep her safe and make her happy.” He jerked a finger in his direction then marched out of his office like a general heading into battle.
Damien slipped his hands into his pockets and tilted his head. “Sold your car and moving,” he recapped.
“Yes,” she said with a small nod. “I owe you an apology.”
He huffed. “Oh? For what, exactly?” He wasn’t going to make it easy for her; it seemed she was finished with the easy road.
“Everything. My dishonesty, my childish behavior—running away from you like that and then ignoring your calls.” A light blush touched her cheeks. “I don’t blame you for giving up on me.” She lowered her gaze.
He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath.
“I never gave up on you, Angel.” He fisted his hands in his pockets, not sure he could touch her yet without wanting to shake some sense into her. Give up on her? Never. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her over the past days. He may not have been with her in body, but she never left his mind. He drove the men crazy asking for details of her day. He had to fight himself to keep from marching over to her apartment and banging down her door. He’d given her space, wanting her to come to her own decisions. And she had.
“You stopped calling,” she said just above a whisper.
“You didn’t answer me. I thought you wanted space and, to be honest, I wanted you to come to your own conclusion of what the next step was. If I’d had my way, I would have knocked down your apartment door and dragged you back to my house. But that wouldn’t have solved anything.” He still didn’t make a move toward her. Among her decisions was the choice to come to him. He wouldn’t take the first step. It would have to be her.
“You’re right. It wouldn’t have.” She raised her chin, bringing her eyes back to his. “If you aren’t too off put by my behavior, I’d like to see you, really see you. Not a contract or for protection. But just you and me.”
“I don’t think there is very much you could do that would put me off wanting to be with you.” He removed his hands from his pockets and stretched out one. “You’ll need to come to me though.”
Her lips parted as she exhaled softly. Her shoulders dropped, and she stumbled forward, into his arms, crushing herself to his chest. Damien hugged her tightly to him, swaying with the impact of her hurry, and kissing her forehead. “It has been the longest week of my life, Angel.”
“For me, too,” she whispered, tilting her head back to look up at him.
“Since your uncle is busy, let’s go back to my place for dinner. We can pick up a pizza on the way.” He ran his knuckles across her cheek.
“I was too nervous to eat today,” she admitted. “Pizza sounds amazing.”
Chapter 12
Angel tucked her feet beneath herself and snuggled closer to Damien on his couch. An empty pizza box lay open on the coffee table along with his empty beer bottle and her half-drunk glass of wine. He’d let her pick the movie, but she was too busy enjoying the feel of his arms around her to enjoy the drama.
“I still can’t picture you in a Maserati. It seems like a lot of muscle for you.” Damien’s chest rumbled with his chuckle. He’d made similar comments on the way home from her uncle’s.
“It was cute.”
He let loose a hard laugh. “Cute? It’s a serious car, not cute.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Mine was.”
“Don’t tell me it was pink.” He tugged on her hair, to get her full attention.
“Of course not. It was silver.” She placed a kiss on his lips, a quick peck. He picked up on the invitation and cupped her head, pulling her closer and taking her lips in a deep kiss. Warm desire ran through her body, and she pressed her hands to his shoulders.
“I don’t want you to go home,” he muttered against her lips.
She sighed and sank back, putting space between them. “I don’t, either. I suppose a sleepover would be fine.” She grinned.
“Not just one sleepover, Angel. I want you in my bed every night. All nights.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
She pushed away. “Damien.”
“What?” he asked, scooting to turn around. She felt less sure of herself with the way his full attention landed on her, but she needed to stick to her ground. She wouldn’t trade one caretaker for another.
“I’m doing this on my own. If you take care of me like that, it’s just changing my father’s money for yours, and that’s not—” His finger pressing against her lips stilled her lecture.
“I never said I was going to let you live here like some princess.” His eyes darkened. “You said yourself you can’t afford your apartment, and this place is too large for just me. We can do this together. You’ll have your expenses, and I’ll have mine. I won’t encroach on your financial freedom unless you ask. Although, I will do whatever I want with my money, which includes buying you a present from time to time, or taking you out to dinner.”
She grabbed his wrist and pulled it down into her lap. “So, I’ll pay utilities and rent? You’ll take my money?”
“Take it? I expect it on the first of the month.” He grinned, softening the hard angles of his features.
“What if I can’t afford what you pay? This is a very nice house, and it’s in the center of the city—”
His finger stilled her once more.
“You’ll come up with a budget for yourself, and you’ll pay what you can afford. Not a penny more. If you overextend yourself, I won’t be happy.” He trailed his finger over her bottom lip, sending more warmth flooding through her body.
“And if you’re not happy with me?” she asked with a hint of seduction in her voice.
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
“And this will work? You still being, well, the dominant force, and me taking care of myself?” she asked softly.
He cupped her chin and raised it. “Just because I spank you for being naughty, doesn’t mean you aren’t independent and brilliant and fully capable of taking care of yourself.”
She searched his eyes while he spoke, trying to find a crack in his resolve. There was none. Damien meant it. He would never suffocate h
er with his power, but rather lift her up with it.
“Okay, then.” She slid into his lap. “Besides, I’m sure it was getting expensive having those men hang outside my building all the time.” She laughed.
“You knew?” he asked, pinching her hip through her dress.
“I do watch my surroundings, Damien. Of course I noticed them.” She snuggled deeper into his chest. “Do you think we can skip the rest of the movie and go to bed?”
“Are you tired?” he asked with a wry smile.
“Not in the least.”
“I think I can remedy that.” He hoisted himself from the couch, carrying her in his arms all the way up to his bedroom where he tossed her in the center. “Leave the dress on,” he directed and reached for his belt.
“Yes, sir.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and helped him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Reaching into his boxers, she wrapped her hand around his thick shaft.
“Are you wearing panties?” he asked.
Tucking her lip between her teeth, she looked up at him and shook her head. “I was sort of hoping you’d take me home tonight.”
He laughed. “A dangerous game.”
“Worth the risk.” She kissed his stomach once his shirt was off.
“Hmm, bend over the bed.” He stepped back and helped her slide off the bed and get situated. When he had the skirts of her dress kicked up over her ass, he blew out a long breath. “Fuck, Angel.” His fingers skated along her garter straps. “Spread your legs, baby,” he ordered.
His hand slipped between her thighs, finding her clit and gently touching it. She arched her back, lifting her ass, and moaned.
“Have you touched yourself this week?” he asked, sliding his finger through her wet folds and teasing her entrance.
“Yes,” she answered. Every time she thought about his strength, his dominating authority, she’d found herself slipping her hand beneath the covers at night.
“Not tonight though. Tonight, I’m going to be the only one touching this pussy.” He thrust a finger into her, and she grabbed at the blankets, fisting them.