Chapter Twelve
The Calm Before the Reckoning
As I lay in the dark, staring at the penthouse ceiling, I could not get rid of the weight in my chest. The weight of Damian's words haunted me as they replayed in my head. He and Gray were brothers bonded by treachery and bloodshed. Damian was dragging himself and me back into the deadly clutches of the past he had worked so hard to escape.
I reflected on his words: We fight. We make it through. However, how much of this was genuinely survival-related? To what extent was it about retaliation? And how could I escape being caught between two men who were out to destroy each other if Gray wanted me to be a pawn in his scheme?
The calm of the city outside seemed to mock me. Unaware of the storm that was building beneath the surface, people were going about their daily lives. I sensed it. The burden of the betrayals, the secrets, and the decisions we still needed to make. However, I was no longer merely a spectator. I was so engrossed in this game that I was forced to continue playing.
After a brief moment of hesitation, I grabbed my phone and sent Damian a message.
> "Everything must be known to me. I will no longer remain in the dark while I sit here.
It was not long before he responded.
> "Don your clothes. We must meet someone.
---As soon as I stepped outside, the chilly Parisian air hit me. The driver was waiting for us at the building's entrance, his posture formal and his eyes obscured by dark sunglasses. Damian was wearing a dark suit with a determined expression on his face. I could feel his tension even though he was not looking at me—his thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
I said, "I am not going to sit in the dark anymore, Damian," in an attempt to end the quiet that had descended on each of us. "That is how much you owe me."
His lips were tight as he gave me a quick glance. "No, Naomi, I am not attempting to conceal anything from you. However, you do not have to know everything at this time."
"Then when?" I fired back. "After the fact?"
His jaw was clenched as he climbed into the SUV's backseat without replying. Unwilling to abandon the issue, I followed, but the city seemed to drown out our mutual silence. We both had to hold it like a long, drawn-out breath while we awaited the inevitable.
The brief drive seemed to go on forever. Damian's presence at my side caused me anxiety as well as comfort. I had no idea whether he was the man I believed him to be or if he had never been.
At last, the vehicle came to a stop in front of an ancient structure hidden away in a less visited area of the city—the kind of location that visitors would not even be aware existed. There was a subdued eerieness about the building, its windows boarded up and dull.
"This is it," Damian uttered softly. "Remain near."
I did not have time to inquire as to who we were meeting with or what sort of meeting this was. As we walked into a dimly lit hallway, I followed him inside, my heart pounding. In addition to dust, there was a metallic, blood-like odor in the air.
At the end of the hall, Damian paused in front of a door and knocked twice. A tall, slender man emerged as the door creaked open. His eyes were calculating and his face was sharp, and I could see the calculation in his expression as soon as his eyes met mine. He was not a mere onlooker. He was a knowledgeable individual.
The man said, "Damian," in a firm but low voice. "And the lady." Before he continued, his gaze shifted to me and lingered for a little too long. "I assume that she is the person he is pursuing?"
Damian took a moment to respond. Rather, I followed him as he entered the room. I was not going to remain outside, but the man did not extend an invitation to come in.
There was not much room for imagination because it was a minimalist space. A wall covered with pictures and maps, a table, and a couple of chairs. They were all connected to Gray.
Pictured were Gray's last known movements, his associates, and the network of people who had been working with him in the shadows, and I froze when I saw them. Everything was here, meticulously laid out, like some strange riddle Damian had been attempting to solve.
The man narrowed his eyes and turned to face me. "So, you are the woman who has successfully drawn both men's attention. What a mess.
I glared at him, growing impatient. "Who are you?"
Damian's face grew serious. "I am Leo. It is he who has been monitoring Gray's whereabouts. He is aware of Gray's objectives.
He is aware of Gray's objectives. "And you believe that you can prevent him?"
Simply put, "We have to try," Damian said.
Leo laughed, his voice mocking and icy. "Do you not comprehend, Damian? Gray wants more than just retribution. He is not supporting you. He is available to her. His eyes gleamed with something dark as he pointed at me. "And you will all be dead before you know it if he gets what he wants."
The words struck me like a slap, sending a shiver down my spine.
Damian's fists balled at his sides and his jaw tightened. Leo was not finished, though. He moved forward, speaking once more as the room's shadows surrounded him.
"Gray is ahead by a number of moves in a chess game. Damian, you are already under control. What about Naomi? The queen is you. You do not realize how dangerous you are."
His words were like a vice pressing down on my chest. I had joined something much more significant and dangerous than I had ever imagined. There was no getting away from it now.
---Anger and frustration tightened Damian's face, but he remained silent. I could see the struggle going on inside of him—the need to protect me, the fear of what lay ahead, and the knowledge that he could not do it by himself.
I would not let him do it by himself.
Despite the fear that roiled in my stomach, I said, "I am not backing down," in a steady voice. "Gray will have to confront me if he wants me."
Damian's eyes darted to mine, searching my face with an unreadable expression. Words we both knew we could not take back weighed heavily on the silence between us for a brief moment.
At last, his voice was low as he spoke. "Naomi, you are more than a piece in this game. The prize is you.
And as that reality weighed down on us, I realized that we were all engaged in a risky game, one in which losing meant more than simply dying.