Beneath His Sheets

Fifteen

Damien's POV

I was on my way to my office to grab the paperwork I needed to finish at home.

Another distraction.

Because the blonde woman clearly didn’t work.

In fact, it backfired.

Grace saw us—saw her—clinging to my arm, leaning in to kiss my neck.

And the look on Grace’s face…

It was like being caught doing something wrong. Like a child caught stealing.

I hated that feeling. I hated that she could make me feel it.

I needed work. Work was simple. Work didn’t look at me with hurt eyes.

But I didn’t expect Grace to be waiting by the steps.

She had class tonight. She should’ve been gone.

Paul shut the passenger door and I made him hand me the keys.

“Take the night off,” I told him. My voice was flat, final. “I’ll drive her.”

He just nodded and wished us a safe drive.

I tried to apologize—I don’t even know for what. For being an i***t? For letting someone touch me? For hurting her when we aren’t even…

Whatever we are.

Grace never makes it easy. She never makes anything simple.

At least not with where we stand now—whatever this distance is, whatever this thing between us has become.

The car ride was quiet.

Just the hum of the engine and her breathing—steady, controlled, like she was refusing to feel anything.

I should’ve said something before she got out.

Do good in class.

Listen to your professors.

Don’t talk to boys.

But what came out was, “I’ll pick you up later.”

Not a question. Not a request.

An order.

And then he appeared—Cian Frederico.

Ferdinand Frederico’s grandson.

We have tie-ups with their business. Nothing major.

If I wanted to, I could squeeze them dry.

I could destroy their entire family with a phone call.

But right now?

I’m the pathetic one.

Because he made her laugh—actually laugh—in a way I haven’t seen in a long time.

She turned her head, met my eyes briefly.

I looked away first.

I drove off.

Tof was asleep at his desk when I arrived back at the office.

Most employees were heading home. Some stayed to finish overtime.

“Go home,” I told them. “Rest. Work can wait.”

Hypocrite.

I knocked on Tof’s desk and he jolted up.

“Why are you here?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “I thought you were going to be… deep in Daniela today.”

Ah. So that was her name.

“I need some work done,” I said.

Tof stared. “Dude. You’ve been working yourself to death for a week. You look more beaten up now than when you were actually sleeping around.”

I glared at him.

He wasn’t wrong.

I hated that he wasn’t wrong.

When I picked up Grace, they were there again. Not laughing this time—just talking casually. Something in me finally snapped. I got out of the car and called her name.

“Let’s go,” I said flatly.

Grace’s face fell. She looked at me, then back at Cian, who was now smiling politely.

“Hi—you’re Damien. Damien Valentini, right?”

I didn’t answer.

“I should go. Cian, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Grace tried to grab my arm.

“You’re a Frederico, right?”

“Yes, sir.” He offered his hand—too politely. “Cian Frederico.”

I might’ve squeezed too hard, because he winced. “Nice meeting you,” I muttered and walked away with Grace.

I caught the apologetic look she threw him.

Once we were inside the car, she let me have it. “What was that?”

“I introduced myself.”

“God, you are impossible.”

“Why do you care so much about what he thinks?”

“I don’t.” She glared at me. “And why do you even care? You can have blond girls all over you, and I can’t have a human being to talk to?”

“Please. He was all over you too.” I scoffed.

She twisted in her seat, fully turning toward me as I drove. “So what? Am I not allowed?”

“No. You’re not,” I said simply.

“Why? Why am I not allowed to have a friend? Another connection? Why should I be tied only to you? To my job? To being alone?” When I glanced at her, tears were streaming down her face.

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.

“And if this is about that night—I’m sorry! I’m sorry if I didn’t give you the satisfaction you needed. I’m sorry if you didn’t get what you wanted, if you didn’t get even with me.”

“Grace—”

“You said it yourself—forget it. I’m trying. So please, just let me go. Let me do my job. Let me live my life. Because you were right—we should forget it. We’re miles apart, Damien! I shouldn’t even talk to you like this, but you just keep pushing. Pushing us somewhere we shouldn’t go!”

I pulled the car over.

“I don’t want to be one of them, Damien. I don’t want to be just another name on your list. Because I don’t belong there. Look at me. Look at—”

I crashed my lips onto hers to shut her up. She was frustrated—I was too. And everything coming out of her mouth was something I didn’t want to hear, because part of it was true… and the other part hurt.

She softened under me for a moment, kissing back. But when she realized what we were doing, she pulled away, wiping her face.

I hooked my finger under her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“You’re not one of them. You never were. That’s the problem.”

Her breath hitched, but I held her gaze.

“You have every right to be angry. Or scared. But don’t twist this into something you’re not to me.”

I inhaled, steady but strained.

“I just… can’t explain it right now.”