by Anna Antonia
What kind of woman does that?
It wasn’t exactly Damian’s fault for suspecting a history of bad behavior from me. I’d think the same if I heard it from someone else.
Maybe I deserved this for all those years of taking what I wanted from men, knowing they were putty in my hand, playing with them, and justifying it by the pleasure I’d given them.
It wasn’t the sex. It was the power I’d held that was unfair.
“I made you feel good, didn’t I? We’re just having fun, right?”
I’d robbed them of their right to have feelings or to be angry. I’d left them like that, uncaring and off to find the next great ego-stroke.
Karma never forgot even if you did.
Standing in front of Damian, seeing the disruption I’m made in his hair from fingers pulling his face closer, I could deny Damian’s ugly accusation.
I could do more than that.
I could tell him succinctly just how wrong he was when it came to me. I could tell him the filthy story of our courtship. I could tell him how I’d tried to leave him and he was the one who drugged and kidnapped me. I could show him the healing scar on my leg from when I leaned into a pair of scissors and let it slice me as apology.
I could do all that and more, but I wouldn’t.
I kept my mouth shut, turned around, and left his office without a single word.
15
DAMIAN
“Damian, you are looking well.”
“So are you, Thomas. Long trip?”
“Long enough.”
“Elaine?”
“Busy as ever.”
My guardian, the man I could’ve called father if ours was a normal relationship, directed me to a flanking chair in front of the lit fireplace. His study was just as I remembered it. Dark mahogany paneling, antique Aubusson rug, leather books in pristine condition, blood-red leather chairs, and dim lighting.
It was the perfect gentlemen’s lair for smoking a cigar and discussing murder.
I took the drink Thomas poured. Scotch.
“Where are we?”
My guardian’s near-colorless gaze flattened. It was the only glimpse of his true emotions.
“The Konstantinovs are dissolving.”
Frozen, I processed those four words. Words I never thought would be uttered in my lifetime. The Konstantinovs, noble in blood, had managed to escape massacre, survived imprisonment, and rose from the ashes of Communism to gain power once again.
They could not fall.
“Impossible.”
“I’m afraid not, Damian.” Thomas’s fingers tightened around the crystal tumbler. “It’s happening as we speak.”
“How?”
“Your father wanted it.”
Hollowed from shock, I trekked through my memories. Grigor Konstantinov retained centuries of aristocratic arrogance even though his hands were stained with 20th century corruption. Tall, blond, still striking in looks and carriage, he wasn’t a man who’d allow his power to dissolve. Much less dismantle it purposely.
“I don’t believe it.”
Thomas nodded as if in agreement.
“It’s true. Ever since your mother died, Grigor carried a vision to be free of that world. He finally succeeded.”
Free? What did that mean? Was he going straight? If so, he couldn’t just walk away. No one walked away from that world clean.
No one.
If that was the case then he would’ve welcomed all the help and money he could’ve got from me. My father barely allowed himself to take the few snippets of code I created to track his shipments because he was adamant that I stay clean.
Something wasn’t right.
“He will have to tell me that himself.”
“You know the rules, Damian.”
“Rules should be circumvented in times like these.”
“It’s not happening, Damian. Your father was very clear on the matter. You won’t find him and if you try, you’ll only undo what we worked so hard to create.”
Frustration gnawed at me. Times like these made me feel like a child to be protected and not a grown man more than capable of taking care of himself.
“How does this affect me?”
“Minimally.”
At least there was something. I relaxed a bit. Soon I’d be able to dispense with the charade with Gretchen. Then I’d be able to move forward with Risa by finding a way to compartmentalize the risks of my past with my future with her.
Even though she’s my PA?
Could I break my rules and get involved with an employee?
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the smirk from my face. Did I dare ask that of myself after knowing just how sweet Risa tasted? Obviously, it was time for that fight to end.
Another one was on the horizon. Especially after how I treated her this evening. My sins were long, but I was confident she would forgive me. Eventually.
“However, it’s still not done.”
My goodwill dissipated.
“Explain.”
“Your identity seems to be intact but there are rumors. I’ve run them to ground, but it’s still not complete.”
I didn’t need further explanation. Thomas, along with his connections, were fatally silencing the bearer of tales.
Thomas wasn’t finished. “Elaine told me of the breach with your PA. You’ve managed to divert much of the traffic, yes?”
“Yes.”
I injected the gossiper’s site with a subversive redirect. Undetectable, it kept the flow of traffic coming to her site, but it rerouted visitors from my post and fed it to others. Already my item seemed to be forgotten in the rush for juicier tidbits.
“Forward me the logs.”
“Consider it done.”
Thomas’s skillset was primarily intelligence. Information—its meaning and how it could be used. After his sleeper status deactivated and he was presumably free to do as he wished in this country, Thomas’s abilities served him well in Wall Street.
For me, he would analyze the site visitors, seeing if there were patterns of note and investigate further if necessary.
I waited, recognizing my guardian wouldn’t have brought up Risa if there wasn’t more. I was right.
“You should send her away, Damian. Somewhere far from here but safe. I can have her out of the country tonight.”
The glass in my hand broke. The pain was nothing.
“You’ve spoken to Elaine already. You both know how I feel about it. I won’t send her away.”
“Why?”
“I won’t justify my reasons to either of you. Nor am I asking permission. Find another way.”
Thomas assessed me, gaze probing for answers I wouldn’t give him audibly.
“You’re compromised. Your feelings for her will only cause you problems.”
Of course, this man would see it that way.
His loyalty to the Konstantinovs was unquestionable, but his lack of tender emotion could be frustrating. Logic and action ruled Thomas Black-Price completely.
Although it never bothered me before. I was the same way.
Past tense. Telling.
“Risa Kelly is my concern. Yours is to keep security.”
“Keeping security means your tie to any woman needs to be severed until this is over. Your exposure is contained but until we are sure, no vulnerabilities.”
This wasn’t what I wanted to hear or accept.
“Why the fixation on Risa? As far as the world is concerned, Gretchen Smith is my serious girlfriend. Isn’t she the most vulnerable one in this situation?”
Thomas didn’t answer. Instead, he took another sip of his Scotch. “You’re bleeding on my chair, Damian.”
“It’ll clean up.” The alcohol burned the lacerations on my palm, but it wasn’t enough to erase the frustration lashing me. “Send Gretchen out of town. Keep her safe with everything you have.”
“And the one in your house?”
“There’s nothing to worry about. Risa
is my PA. Nothing more. Nothing less. Sending her away will give her position more significance than warranted.”
“She will be safest with Leon. Far from here they can pass as lovers. No one will suspect a thing.”
I barely kept my fingers from curling into a fist.
“That’s not necessary for Risa. This can work well for Gretchen.”
“Another man stealing your woman. I didn’t think you’d ever allow the rumor to exist.”
It was true. Once.
No longer.
“Gretchen is not my woman. She is going through this ruse as a favor to me. She doesn’t need to know why she’s being sent away.”
“She’ll suspect. Women aren’t necessarily stupid, Damian.”
The door opened and Elaine breezed in.
“In fact, they’re not stupid at all. You gave him my suggestion, Thomas?”
“Yes. However, Gretchen goes with Leon.”
“And Risa stays here.” She noted my bleeding hand. “Damian, you’ll stain the leather. Throw the glass away and put a handkerchief on that.”
My guardians would kill for me, but neither of them would coddle me. Especially over a perceived weakness of the heart.
I didn’t care. I wasn’t budging from my position.
I’d keep my distance from Risa but I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.
She was mine. Even if she didn’t know it yet.
16
RISA
Damian came home last night deep after midnight.
When he opened my bedroom door, I pretended to sleep. He stood over me for a long time before leaving as quietly as he came. As I cried into my pillow, I wondered what he thought.
I hoped whatever it was carried regret. I hoped Damian regretted the nasty question he asked me. I hoped he regretted letting me walk away.
I hoped he didn’t regret me in his life.
Today was different.
Today gave no sign to what happened between us in his office or the words left unspoken.
Today Damian was intolerable.
It was very much a repeat of Switzerland but worse. He had me tied to his side in a way that was far from romantic. Any minute I expected him to shove my desk and equipment in his office so he could stand over me and watch me work.
I had no space from him. He micromanaged me, questioning my flow of tasks and how I went about completing them. I was a jack-in-the-box, popping up from my chair as soon as he opened his mouth.
“Risa, come into my office.”
“Risa, get back in here.”
“Risa, do this again.”
“Risa.”
“Risa.”
“Risa!”
By lunchtime I was emotionally exhausted. Every time I got up from my desk, Damian wanted to know where I was going. Precisely. And the bathroom? Well, I got an upgrade.
“Use mine.”
Great. I couldn’t even use the stairs to burn off my excess emotion. Not only that, I could tell Damian timed how long I was in there.
Crazy bastard.
His control didn’t stop there. Damian ordered my lunch and had me eat it with him. When I let the ham and cheese sandwich sit there longer than thirty seconds, he fixed his gaze on me.
The command was clear.
Back when we were together, I didn’t mind the attentiveness. It made me feel cherished and spoiled. Most men were uncommonly interested in their girlfriend’s weight through caloric deprivation. Any man who’d tried to insert himself in my eating habits was promptly dismissed and never thought of again.
Damian wasn’t like that. He wanted me full and satiated. Underfed women held no appeal to him. He did it because he cared.
This was a perverted recreation lacking sentiment.
“Risa, you’ve got more than half your food still on that plate. Finish it.”
I could tell he was displeased when I’d only managed to consume another quarter, but I wasn’t ignoring my food to defy him.
I didn’t want to eat because I was unhappy. Because of him.
Damian wiped my mouth with the corner of his napkin, so much like before, and my foolish heart bled a little more.
By late afternoon, I’d begun making real mistakes. Damian’s exasperation bled through. My pride took a bruising, but I couldn’t seem to avoid the sloppy errors.
Wrong usage of words. Transposition of numbers. Uploading yesterday’s London numbers instead of today’s.
Damian soon called me into office. Wearily I trudged in there. This time he didn’t offer me a seat. Instead, I had to stand in front of him like a naughty child sent to the principal’s office.
The bizarre thought of Damian having a paddle on the wall with my name etched into it slid through my mind. I choked back an inappropriate giggle. This did not go unnoticed.
“Are you trying to get me to fire you?”
Completely sober again, I dutifully murmured, “No, Sir.”
“Then how do you explain this?” He pointed to the screen. I leaned over just enough to see London’s incorrect spreadsheet.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t, Sir.”
He observed from beneath a bloodless stare. I didn’t even have the strength to shiver. I just wanted to crawl into bed and start all over.
“Your retaliation won’t get you what you believe it will.”
“I’m sorry.”
Damian bit out, “Don’t be sorry. Do better.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Dismissed, I went back to my desk, tail tucked firmly between my legs. Exhausted from the day, I let my head fall back against the chair and took a tiny breather. Self-pity wormed inside.
This wasn’t the kind of work I’d trained for. I didn’t know shit about being a PA. I knew how to sell things and I fucking couldn’t even do that. I couldn’t sell myself as a backwoods PA, much less a C-level PA.
Damian was going to fire me and then what? I was going to go back home to Austin and go right back to where I started from.
No way.
I’d start over. All my stuff from Austin was in storage anyways. There wasn’t much I needed. I could go stay with my parents in Houston. No. Farther. Somewhere far from where I’d fallen in love with a beautiful cold man who couldn’t even remember me.
Other than the fact I’m a fuck-up.
“Napping?”
Damian walked into my office and managed to get behind me, all without me hearing him.
Great. Now I’d just proved my uselessness beyond a shadow of a doubt.
His arms a cage and his lips right by my ear, I had nowhere to go. I could apologize but instead I opted for the truth.
“I’m tired. I needed a break.”
“Didn’t get enough sleep last night, Risa?”
I wouldn’t turn my head and look at him. I didn’t dare risk him seeing more than I was willing to give.
“I’m just tired. That’s all.”
Damian didn’t say another word. He walked to the front of my desk and picked up a chair. Mute, I watched as he placed it next to me and sat down.
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Upload the correct numbers from London.”
“Right now?”
Damian raised a brow.
“Right.”
My hands slicked with nervousness. I moved my cursor to open the file when Damian said, “Control O.”
I closed my eyes and let a tiny sad smile appear. It was like our first meeting in my office. I wanted so hard to impress him even then, instinctually feeling Damian was unlike any man I’d ever met.
“Yes, Sir.”
I completed the task within five minutes, showing no hesitation as I imported the correct data and manipulated the pivot tables.
Once I sent it to him, Damian stood up.
“The focus you just displayed is what I need. Give me that, Risa, and nothing less. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
&
nbsp; Damian cupped my chin for too-brief a moment. “Be good for me, Risa. Understood?”
Sadistic man. Didn’t he understand how tightly he tied me to him with this kind of attention?
“Understood.” I bit my lip and then blurted out, “What happened to your hand, Sir?”
He didn’t give his bandaged palm any notice.
“Nothing important. Now be a good girl, Risa. Make me proud.”
“Yes, Sir.”
How could I walk away from Damian when he held my heart so tightly?
Push and pull.
Heaven and hell.
Damian and Risa.
17
DAMIAN
An early-morning brunch with a Brussels investment group finished early, freeing me up to head back to the office. I’d left Risa behind due to the venue and circumstances. However, I picked up a box of her favorite pastries to tide her over until lunch.
Risa’s empty desk greeted me.
One glance told me she wasn’t away. She wasn’t coming back.
Less than a minute later I was in front of reception. I managed to calmly ask, “Where’s Ms. Kelly?”
Mrs. Benton, my receptionist for the past ten years, smiled and cheerfully answered, “Ms. Kelly is gone for the day.”
Considering I wanted to keep her services, I didn’t yell “I know that, idiot!” but instead clarified, “Did she say where she was going?”
“Well, no.” Her frown eased when she added, “Ms. Kelly did say she left you a message on your cell.”
Of course. I should’ve checked that first.
“Thank you, Mrs. Benton. Here. These are for you.”
She accepted Risa’s box of sweets with a delighted smile. “Thank you, Mr. Black-Price!”
“You’re very welcome.”
If Risa wasn’t here, then she damned well didn’t deserve a reward for it. I made for the elevator and impatiently checked my voice mail. Hearing Risa’s girlish voice would ease my irrational fear she’d just disappeared because I pushed her too far.
Once again I’d been a bastard, pricking, prodding, and clawing her until she’d become a mess yesterday. I couldn’t blame her for deciding to quit on the spot.
Except I would.
“Mr. Black-Price, I’m so sorry to do this over the phone like this but—”