Chapter 6 I hated that he was talking about the past

I didn't know how long I'd stood outside Damian's office, attempting to gather myself. My heart still echoed in my ears, and my fingers quaked at my sides.

But Nathan being here was all bad-bad, bad.

But worse was that Damian had not thrown him out.

What kind of deal could he possibly want from Nathan?

I had questions. Too many. And no answers.

But I wasn't stupid. I didn't want to jolt them into pushing too hard, too fast. Damian was not a man who put up with prying.

I took a deep breath, shoved away from the door and headed down the hall, vowing to get my mind on work. To forget Nathan.

Except that forgetting wasn't an option.

Because an hour later, as I walked into the main lobby, he was there waiting for me.

Nathan was propped against the receptionist's desk as if he owned the place, talking the ear off the poor girl behind the counter. When his gaze fell on me, his smirk widened.

"Ah, there she is. I was hoping for a real reunion."

I went rigid, my grip tightening on the folder I was holding. "I have nothing to talk about."

Nathan chuckled. "Come on, sweetheart. That is no way to treat an old friend."

My jaw clenched. "You were never my friend."

His eyes darkened, amusement flickering in his expression for an instant before he got himself under control. "Maybe not. But we had our moments, huh?"

I hated that he was talking about the past.

I hated that my heart still responded not in longing, but in fear.

Nathan had never been simply an ex.

He'd been my mistake.

One I'd barely escaped.

And now he was here, back again, in the beating heart of Blackwood Enterprises, and pretending as if he belonged.

I lifted my chin. "I don't know what game you're playing, but whatever you're doing with Damian it won't end well for you."

Nathan cackled softly, edging closer. "Oh, Elena," he murmured. "You still don't understand, do you?"

I stiffened.

"Damian and I?" His voice was almost teasing. "We're not so different."

My stomach twisted.

He was lying. He had to be lying.

Because if he wasn't if even a grain of truth existed in his words then I'd just stepped into the world of another dangerous man."

One I perhaps will not escape this time.

"You don't know nothing about him," I retorted.

Nathan tilted his head. "Don't I?"

He grinned wider and reached into his pocket, producing a sleek black envelope.

"Give this to Damian," he said, shoving it into my hands before I could say no.

I hesitated. "What is it?"

He winked. "Just a friendly reminder of who's really in charge here."

I wanted to throw it at him." To refuse.

But I didn't.

Because if this was something significant, something that might bring me answers, then I had to witness it.

Nathan leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Be careful, sweetheart. You would think you would be running from the past, but sometimes..." He ran his fingers through the hair behind my ear, and I shivered.

"Sometimes, it catches up."

And then he was gone, whistling in a casual way as he walked out the door, and I was left standing there, heart racing, hands gripping the envelope.

I swallowed hard.

I had two options.

One take it to Damian, the way Nathan wanted.

Two open it myself.

The alternative was risky. If Damian discovered I'd betrayed him...

I shivered.

But the alternative? Staying in the dark?

I couldn't do it.

I took a deep breath, then turned on my heel and marched toward the elevators, envelope in hand.

Because one way or another

I was going to discover the truth.

My heart racing, I took the elevator up to Damian's office.

The black envelope in my hands was heavier than it should've been-like it contained more than mere words. It carried secrets.

I kept hearing Nathan's words in my head.

"Be careful, sweetheart. You may feel like you're running for your past, but sometimes ... sometimes, it catches up."

I didn't trust him.

But I trusted whatever lay within this envelope even less.

The elevator doors opened and I stepped out and walked toward Damian's office. His assistant, Vanessa, hardly glanced up from her computer.

"You can go in," she said.

I paused for an instant, then grasped the handle and entered.

Damian was sitting at his desk and his penetrating eyes shot up to meet mine when I walked in.

I saw tension in his posture for the first time since I'd met him. Controlled, but present.

He knew already why I was here.

Gently, I set the envelope on his desk. "Nathan says to give you this."

Damian's face remained unchanged, but something sharpened in his eyes.

He lunged for it, peeling back the seal with his thumb. He moved slowly, deliberately.

He took out a single sheet of paper.

Read it.

And then?

His entire demeanor shifted.

The paper slipped through his fingers, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. A dark shadow passed over his face, something inscrutable flaring in his eyes.

He had never looked like this before.

Cold. Dangerous. Lethal.

The air in the room changed.

And then, I wished I had opened that damn envelope myself.

I swallowed. "What is it?"

Damian hesitated before responding. He folded the paper neatly, returned it to the envelope and put it down as if it were nothing at all.

But it wasn't nothing.

"Nathan is trying to play a game," he finally said, his voice deceptively calm. "So he believes I'm going to play by his rules."

My pulse spiked. "Will you?"

He glanced at me, his eyes unreadable. "No."

I shivered.

I didn't know if that was good news or bad news.

I took a slow step forward. "Damian... What does he know about you?"

His mouth twisted a little, but there was no humor in his face. "You think he knows something about me?"

I hesitated. "Doesn't he?"

Silence.

And then

"I wouldn't be standing here if I let men like Nathan Blackmail me.

His voice was quiet. But there was steel below that.

I should have felt reassured.

I didn't.

Because things weren't quite right.

Because if Nathan had nothing on him, why had Damian delighted in turning the table into a sieve?

How had everything about him changed because of that letter?

I swallowed, pushing a little harder just the same. "If you don't give a shit about whatever's in that letter, then what do you look like you want to kill him for?"

Damian didn't blink.

Then he relaxed in his chair, tapping a finger on the desk. "Because men like Nathan don't send warnings unless they have a purpose."

I exhaled sharply. "And what does he want?"

His eyes darkened. "Me."

My stomach flipped.

I wasn't stupid. Nathan always had a reason for everything he did.

He wasn't only here for Damian.

He was here for me, too.

I stepped back, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. "If he's dangerous, then-"

Damian pushed back his chair and stood.

"You don't have to worry about Nathan."

There was nothing comforting about his voice, though.

I looked at him, my heart racing.

"You don't know what he can do," I said in a whisper.

Damian cocked his head just a bit. "No." There was something dangerous in the curve of his lips. "He has no idea what I'm capable of."

I shivered.

Nathan had played with the wrong man.

And somehow I was caught right in the middle of it.

I should have felt more secure knowing Damian wasn't afraid of him.

But as I gazed into his cold, steadfast eyes all I felt was fear.

Because whatever they game they were playing?

I was just a pawn.

And pawns?

They never survived.