Chapter 8 I didn't sleep that night.

Even knowing, from Damian, that Nathan wouldn't have the chance to get his hands on me, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. That any moment, I would glance back and he would be there - smirking, waiting.

I locked every door. Checked the windows. I lain in bed and stared at the ceiling and my heart went a pump pump pump.

And in the morning?

I had walked to Blackwood Enterprises, a shadow of a woman.

As I passed Vanessa's desk, she raised an eyebrow at me. "You okay?"

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

She almost opened her mouth to say one more thing but before she did, the office door opened.

Damian had turned up, pristine in his black cutaway, his brazenness palpable. He spotted me, and didn't hesitate.

"Elena. Inside. Now."

A shiver ran down my spine.

I didn't argue.

I entered his office, and the door clicked shut behind me.

A moment later, Damian spun. He leaned on the desk, arms crossed; it was as if he was trying to figure me out.

He only began to speak when the silence became unbearable.

"How long was he watching you?"

I swallowed. "I don't know."

His gaze didn't waver. "Try again."

I hesitated. "A while."

His jaw clenched.

I expected anger. But what I saw in his eyes? Wasn't just anger. It was something darker. Colder.

"You could have told me sooner."

I stiffened. "And what–sorry, what should you have done?"

His head tilted slightly. "Handled it."

I gave a short, sharp laugh and shook my head. "You don't understand. Nathan doesn't play fair."

"Neither do I."

The air between us tightened.

He was serious. Deadly serious.

I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "This isn't your fight."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "It is now."

I started to argue, but before I could my phone buzzed.

I dug it out, breath stopping in my throat when I saw the message.

Unknown: You're tired, honey? "Maybe next time I'll tuck you in."

My stomach dropped.

Before I had a chance to protest, Damian snatched the phone from my hands. His body went stiff when he read the message.

And then?

Something snapped.

He exhaled slowly. Controlled. Too controlled.

He took his own phone and dialed in silence.

A beat. Then

"Find him."

That's all he said before he clicked off.

I shivered.

For Damian hadn't just been watching over me.

He was preparing for war.

And I wasn't sure if I was going to make it.

My heart raced as I glanced at Damian. His hands clutched my phone tight, his face stony but I knew what was happening under the surface.

He was furious.

Dangerously furious.

"Damian"

"Pack a bag." His voice was cold. Absolute.

I blinked. "What?"

"You're not going home tonight.

I stiffened. "That's not your decision."

He took a sharp breath and gritted his teeth. "Elena, he's watching you. He knows where you live. You still think it's a good idea to remain there?"

I swallowed and folded my arms. "And just what is your solution, then?"

"You're coming with me."

Those words gave me chills.

I pictured immediately his penthouse: dark, sleek, menacing - like him.

I should have fought the allure. But I did.

I lifted my chin. "I can take care of myself."

His eyes darkened. "No. You can't."

The air between us crackled.

I resented the way he said it, the certainty that fluff padded his voice. But I knew in my heart he was right.

Nathan was getting bolder. Through my new lens, he wasn't just lurking in the shadows anymore he was watching over me.

And that there were always warnings before something worse."

Dami rubbed his face and inhaled deeply before leaning in closer. "Elena," he said, softer this time. "Let me protect you."

My heart twisted.

He didn't say it like an order, the way he said it. He said it like a promise.

A pie-in-the-sky, irresponsible promise.

I should have said no.

I should have walked away.

But instead I said, "Okay."

Something inscrutable passed through his gaze, and he nodded once. "Good. I'll have someone come to pick up your things."

I shook my head. "I'll do it myself."

A muscle in his jaw quivered, but he did not resist.

He pulled out his phone and typed in a number instead. I couldn't hear much of the exchange, just a few stuttering words. Security. Surveillance. My address.

When he hung up, he came back to me. "We're leaving at ten."

I was panting and gasping for air, trying to comprehend what was going on.

Damian Blackwood was bringing me home with him."

And the worst part?

I didn't know if I was heading toward safety

Or straight into the fire.

In the elevator to Damian's penthouse, it was suffocating.

I sat stiff as a board next to him in the backseat, my hands taut in my lap. His being heavy, overwhelming saturated every square inch.

Neither of us spoke.

But I felt it. The tension.

Thick. Unspoken.

As a wire that is pulled at the edge to snap.

As we reach the hotel the driver opens the door and Damon steps out. His glance darted back toward me once again.

"Elena."

It wasn't a request.

I exhaled and followed him.

The moment I stepped into the penthouse, I gasped.

Dark. Cold. Stunning.

Silver light poured into the modern, minimalist space through the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

A place of power. Control.

Just like its owner.

Damian yanked his suit jacket off and threw it over the couch. "Yes you will be sleeping in the guest room."

I swallowed. "For how long?"

His jaw tightened. "Until I say otherwise."

Something snapped in me. "That's not an answer."

His eyes locked said with mine - focused, unblinking. "Because I don't have one."

I hated that feeling of my stomach flipping.

I was supposed to hate him.

I was meant to resist this.

But now, with him this close, his scent wrapping me in its grasp - I was losing.

"You don't get to tell me how to live my life," I whispered.

His mouth turned wily and shadowy. "I already do."

The air thickened.

A sort of thrilling, dangerous pull between us."

I should have stepped back.

Instead, I stood my ground instead.

And then

His phone buzzed.

He took a breath, rubbed the top of his head and spoke. "Blackwood."

Silence.

Then he stopped moving altogether.

A cold something streaked across his face.

A pause.

Then

"Find him."

The call ended.

A beat of silence.

Then Damian spun around, caught my glance; his face inscrutable.

"What?" I whispered.

He exhaled slowly. "Nathan's in the building."

My heart stopped.

Damian yanked my wrist and pulled me to the bedroom a second later.

"Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone except me."

Panic clawed at my chest. "Damian-"

But his eyes.

They weren't just angry.

They were deadly.

"This isn't a game, Elena."

And then, before I could object 

He was gone.