My Safest Danger

The Devil at my Table

Skylar's POV

I couldn’t stay in my own house after everything that had happened yesterday.

Every time I closed my eyes, the scene came rushing back. Even the slightest sound made me tense. And the funniest thing?

I don’t even know what’s going on. The cops are on it. Fingers crossed for a positive result.

I settled by the window in a restaurant. The place was nearly empty, with only Joan and me inside.

My eyes kept returning to the entrance, waiting for my secretary to walk in. Joan’s loud chewing snapped me out of my thoughts.

“What?” She looked up at me, still chewing on her pizza.

“Are you taking your last breath? Why the rush?”

“Skylar,” she called, dropping the slice onto her plate. “We don’t know what we’re up against. The best thing you can do right now is to fill your stomach. Who knows what that Damien guy…” She paused, and averted her gaze over my shoulder.

The mention of Damien made my stomach twist. I didn't want to ever see that guy or hear his name. Every time I saw him, I was either in trouble or about to be.

Zack strode in, his eyes sweeping across the restaurant before landing on us. He crossed the room and dropped into the chair beside Joan.

“So, I’ll go straight to the point. You need to find a strange guy, right?” He raised a brow, his gaze moving between us.

We both nodded in unison.

“I tried to look up the name you sent. I even hired a private investigator.” He leaned closer. “We found no suspicious person named Damien Rodriguez.”

How is that possible? I leaned closer, watching him pull something from his briefcase.

He held out a file. “Recognize anyone?”

I snatched it from him, my eyes scanning every detail.

“The Damien Rodriguez we're looking for isn't here.” I reached for the drink on the table, and gulped it down. “Can't this whole s**t just be over?”

I was supposed to be at the office, burying myself in work and silently cursing myself for giving Jace that car.

But my mind was only on Damien. Speaking of Jace, my gaze snapped back to Zack.

“What did the lawyer say? Can I get it back?”

He shook his head. “You already signed it over to him. It was a gift, so getting it back will be difficult.”

Then I’ll just call it charity. Maybe that’ll make me feel less pissed about it.

“I told the detective everything I could remember from yesterday. The dash cam in my car, the CCTV cameras... still nothing?”

Zack adjusted his glasses and shook his head. “The detectives are suspecting your guards planned the attack. They disappeared just before it happened, which makes them the prime suspects.”

I let out a dry laugh. “So after everything I explained yesterday, they still didn’t believe me.”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m arranging a meeting with an ex-military officer to guard you. In the meantime, stay at a hotel until we get this sorted out because Joanne's house isn't safe either.”

I rested my head against the table, closing my eyes for a moment. Why me of all people? After a minute, i lifted my head and faced them.

“Actually...” Zack lowered his gaze to the table. “I thought it was a prank when Joanne called until I went to your house.”

“Prank?” I hit the table loudly, ignoring the water spilling onto the floor. “Remember when I won Entrepreneur of the Year? Someone actually sent a dead cat to our office, and you told me to brush it off. I did... but this is different, Zack.”

Joan reached for my hand on the table and patted it. "Calm down,” she mouthed. Her eyes shot up to him.“You never take me seriously.”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead before pulling out a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. “If we can apprehend Damien, we can catch the other guys. I need a composite sketch of him. Who can sketch him?”

Joan snatched the paper from him.

“There’s a small mole on his nose.” I pointed to the spot on the sketch.

Joan’s eyes shot toward me. Her mouth parted for a second before she lowered her gaze and continued sketching.

Zack took the sketch from her and studied it for a moment. He snapped a picture and handed it to me.

“I’ll still ask around at the club where you said you met him.” He leaned back. “Do you, by any chance, know anything else that might help us get a hold of him?”

“His cologne and clothes… they don’t look regular. Also, his accent is kind of strange.”

He scribbled it down, setting the pen aside. “Shouldn’t we tell your aunt?

“What should I tell her? That I went to a club and kissed a stranger. Now the stranger doesn't want to leave me alone and might probably be playing a game with my life. I’ll handle it myself.”

“If you say so. Mr. Salvatore’s team reached out to us a few days ago. He declined the partnership and Mr. Dante hasn’t sent a reply.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m already late for work. I’ll send you the details. Do you want a ride?”

I shook my head. Everything wasn't going as planned. Mr. Salvatore and Dante were two important investors I needed for our new product launch.

“I need to eat. Zack, will we meet later?” I rubbed my temples, heaving a sigh.

I shouldn't fight on an empty stomach, like Joan had said. My hand reached for a spoon, digging into the meal before me.

“Can you drop me off?” Joan clutched her bag and rose from her chair.

Zack stood, gathering the files into his briefcase. “I don’t think he meant any harm, though.” He paused. “If he didn’t hurt you, then he...”

I shot to my feet, already slipping off my shoe, ready to fling it at his head.

“Oh, s**t!” he yelped, bolting for the door with Joan chasing after him.

He might not mean any harm? What kind of nonsense is that? He broke into my house without my permission. Got my number without asking for it.

What if he was the one behind all of this? Trying to make himself look like the knight who would save me? To make me feel powerless until I had no choice but to surrender to him?

Take a deep breath, Skylar. Don't think about that bastard.

I glanced at the keys sitting on the table before picking them up and slipping them into my pocket.

Joan was supposed to drive me, and I'd sent Zack away without a second thought. Just great.

Movement near my table caught my attention. At a table not far from mine, someone sat with a newspaper raised over their face.

I dropped the spoon. My hand went straight for my bag as I shot up from my seat.

The newspaper disappeared from the person's face.

I blinked, convinced my eyes were playing tricks on me. How had he walked in without us noticing?

The bastard I had been trying so hard to escape was sitting at the table, his eyes fixed on me with a blank expression.

He got to his feet and made his way toward me. I swerved to the side, but he cut me off, stepping directly into my path.

Gritting my teeth, I shoved him out of the way.

He grabbed my hand and yanked me forward, forcing me back into the chair. His fingers locked around mine, making it impossible for me to slip away.

Lowering himself into the seat Zack had occupied earlier, he crossed one leg over the other, still not willing to leave my hands.

I struggled to rise from my seat, sinking my nails into his hand. “Leave me or...”

His hand flew to my mouth, muffling my scream. I bit down hard on his hand, spotting the waiter at the counter.

Her head shot up. “What is it, ma'am? She asked from across the counter, her eyes darting between me and Damien.

Damien kept his palm over my mouth, his thumb slowly moving across my cheek in a way that could easily be mistaken for a caress.

"Don’t,” he whispered, then turned to the waiter. “Bring me your most expensive wine.” His eyes flickered toward me. “Can we talk?”