Chapter Eleven
A Dangerous Game
Gray's departure brought an oppressive silence to the café. I could not shake the weight of his words, his cryptic warning that I was just a pawn in a much bigger game between him and Damian. My heart pounded in my chest, not because I was afraid of Gray, but because I realized Damian had only told me half the truth up to this point.
I had trusted him. I believed in him. But now I was not sure.
I paid for my coffee and left the café, but as I walked through Paris, I could not shake the feeling that I was being followed. The city, which had once seemed so vibrant, now felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on me. The hum of traffic, the clinking of glasses, the laughter of tourists—it all seemed distant, as if I were trapped in a dream that was gradually unraveling.
I needed answers. I needed to find out what Damian had gotten himself into and why he was willing to keep me in the dark.
I did not immediately return to the penthouse. Instead, I wandered, losing myself in the maze of Parisian streets, my thoughts too heavy to ignore. My thoughts kept returning to Gray's words: Damian is not who you believe he is. What did that mean? What kind of man was he before we met?
My phone vibrated in my pocket, interrupting my rambling thoughts. I pulled it out, my fingers trembling slightly as I read the name on the screen.
Damian.I hesitated before responding.
"Naomi," he called out, his voice low and tense. "Where are you?"
"I needed some air," I said with a colder tone than I intended. "I am fine."
"Go back to the apartment. Now."
His tone left no room for disagreement. I did not fight back, though. I knew better. Damian was not just ordering me around; he was trying to keep me safe. But what will you protect me from? From Gray? Or from himself?
"I will be there soon," I replied, hanging up before he could say anything else.
The walk back to the penthouse was quiet. As I approached the building, I could feel a change in the air, similar to the calm before the storm. When I finally walked in, Damian was pacing back and forth near the window. When he saw me, his eyes darkened and his jaw tightened.
"You should not have gone out alone," he said, his tone tight. "I said you should stay inside."
"I could not just sit there," I said, firm but frustrated. "I could not just sit there," I said, firm but frustrated. And I need to know the truth.
He stopped pacing and turned to face me, his face hardening. "You are correct. I have not told you everything. But this is not the time, Naomi."
"The hell it isn't," I responded, my voice rising. "Gray is back, and he has made it clear that he intends to destroy you. You stated that you were not the same man as before. What exactly does that mean, Damian? "Who are you?"
He ran his hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "You do not want to know," he said softly, almost pleading. "You do not want to be involved in this."
"I am already involved!" I snapped. "You got me into this, Damian. I am here now, and I am not a bystander. I need to know what is going on. I need to know what is going on.
We had a brief moment of silence. His gaze was intense, as if he was contemplating something he did not want to share. Finally, he spoke, his tone low and gravelly.
"Grey and I..." We have gone through things you could not imagine. Things you would not want to know. Before becoming who I am today, I was someone else—someone I would rather forget. I did something. Horrible things.
His words hung in the air like poison, seeping into my veins and making my mind spin. His words hung in the air like poison, seeping into my veins and making my mind spin.
"Gray and I were more than just business partners," Damian explained, his voice quieter now. "We were brothers." We fought together and bled together. But somewhere along the way, we lost sight of why we were fighting. The lines blurred, and when it was finished, I walked away. I thought I could leave everything behind. Gray is not the type of man to walk away from. He does not forgive. And now he is returned to finish what we started.
I felt my heart drop. The man I had grown to care about, the one who had been my boss and protector, was a ghost of the man he once was. The man I had grown to care about, the one who had been my boss and protector, was now a ghost of his former self.
"Damian…" I whispered, barely getting the words out of my throat. "What does this mean for me?" "For us?"
He finally turned to face me directly, his eyes dark and filled with regret. "This means you are in danger. Both of us are. Gray will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. And I can not protect you if I am still bound by the past."
"Let it go," I said, my voice shaking from the weight of the decision. "Let everything go, Damian. We can leave. "We can run."
He shook his head, his eyes full of resignation. "I can not run from this. It is too late for that.
I took a step closer to him, my heart breaking. "So what do we do?"
Damian did not respond. Instead, he reached for my hand, gripping it tightly and warmly. "We fought. "We survive."
And I knew, with cold certainty, that the battle had only just begun.