The Dark Bargain

Chapter 004

Revealed Objectives

Lily's POV

Every stride I took down the hall seemed to be dragging me farther into a maze I hadn't decided to visit. The world around me felt like it was splitting. Again, Damien had misled me. Every glance, every deliberate phrase, was only a mask covering the truth he had buried under his polished appeal. I had assumed our arrangement was basic—a mutual transaction meant to safeguard his empire and my mother. But with every breath, I felt the weight of Hargrave's words weighing down on me.

I hardly knew where I was headed until I came to the vacant library at the far end of the house. I closed the heavy door behind me and inhaled deeply, attempting to calm the turmoil inside. Thick with all the unspoken accusations and worries I had pent-up since the day I had signed that contract, the quiet seemed nearly oppressive.

Still, the silence did not last long.

The door opened, and Damien entered with a look that combined annoyance with something else—almost vulnerable.

"What are you looking for, Damien?" I said, my voice shrill, tinged with the hurt and resentment I had kept bottled up. "More lies?"

He moaned, but his eyes never strayed. "Lily, it's not as straightforward as you might think."

I laughed—a hollow, nasty sound. You have made that plain. Just business, right? That is all I am to you, a pawn in whatever twisted game you are engaged in.

His voice tense, he said, "It's not a game." You have no idea how hazardous Hargrave is.

Then tell me, I said, stepping forward and heart thumping. "Stop hiding everything from me if you want me to trust you, Damien!"

He hesitated, his eyes darting with a wariness I had not observed before. You don't know what you are asking for.

Try me.

He just stared at me for a minute, his face a tempest of contradictory feelings. Then, at last, he breathed, his shoulders lowering ever so gently as though he were caving in response to an invisible weight.

"Fine," he responded silently. "Do you desire the truth?" Hargrave is not only a competitor here. He makes a threat. One that has been evolving over the years. Once close to my family and a reliable friend, he turned on us for his benefit.

I scowled, my fury briefly replaced by interest.

Damien's eyes clouded, and his jaw tightened. He struck a deal with my father that ought to have benefited both sides in a partnership. Rather, he turned against us after using that link to crawl his way into our company and understand our shortcomings. He aimed to knock down what my family had created. And he vowed he would get it even if he failed.

His voice carried a raw edge that suggested years of sorrow and betrayal. I wanted to be sympathetic, to think he was speaking the whole truth this time. Still fresh, though, the wounds of his dishonesty persisted, and I couldn't ignore the persistent doubt about more he wasn't sharing.

And in regard to you? I pressed and crossed my arms. What part did you contribute to all this?

He hesitated, and I could see the conflict in his eyes—the resistance to expose a truth more profound than he would have wanted to acknowledge. "I... chose." decisions that safeguarded my family but harmed others in the course of events. Looking back, maybe I was wrong even though I felt I was acting as required.

The admission startled me, and for a brief while I saw the man under the armor—the man molded by years of guilt and treachery. Still, it was insufficient.

"Damien," I murmured, my voice still hard but quieter now. I need honesty if you want me to be by your side or part of this. Entirely honest.

He stared at me with a sharp, almost begging expression. Lily, I have done things I am not happy about. Things that would cause you to doubt all you currently believe about me.

Holding his stare, I said, "I'm already questioning everything." Tell me the truth, then. All of it.

He moved closer, his face inscrutable, and for a second, I thought he might open out and destroy the barriers he had erected around himself. Then the mask slid back into position, and his eyes turned frigid.

"You're better off not knowing some things," he replied, his voice tightening. Let me handle this for you.

The words felt like a smack, and I withdrew, fury raging once more. Trust you? Following everything, have you subjected me to?

Lily.

"No," I said, my voice trembling. I object to your false promises and half-truths. I am entitled to more than that.

I went to brush past him, but his hand sprang out, clutching my wrist, his touch both strong and gentle. "Don't let go of me."

His voice sent a shudder down my spine, but I jerked my arm free to refuse to let him rule me anymore. "Maybe it's time you learned, Damien, not everyone will play by your rules."

His dark and menacing eyes fixed on me, and for a brief, exciting moment I considered he could indeed lose control. Instead, he let me go back, and his countenance turned blank once more.

"Very well," he replied softly, his voice icy. You are free to go if that is your desired outcome. Lily, though, keeps in mind that stepping away does not equate to safety. Hargrave won't stop until he has wrecked all I have—including you.

The threat stayed in the air, and even with my rage, a chill crept over me, reminding me I was caught in something much beyond my reach. Still, I pushed myself to be tall and meet his appearance.

My voice is calm. "Then maybe it's time I stopped letting you decide what's best for me."

My heart hammering, my head whirling with a rainbow of feelings, I turned and exited the library without another word. But I couldn't get rid of the sensation that someone was watching me as I walked through the dark hallways.

I returned to my suite later that evening and attempted to absorb all Damien had told me while pacing the floor. All the rage, the treachery, the residual attraction simmering under the surface—all of it twisted together in the tempest that left me disoriented and doubtful.

But I froze as I turned toward the window; my heart shot into my throat.

A shadow moved outside, little perceptible against the blackness, but there. Someone was observing me.

Approaching closely and staring into the darkness, the figure had disappeared, leaving only a terrible silence in front of me. Every impulse in my mind screamed that something was amiss.

Taking my phone, I dialed Damien's number, my fingers shaking as I pushed it to my ear. It rang twice, and then he spoke tensely.

"Lily?."

"There's... someone outside," I said, my voice hardly audible. "I sense someone observing me."

There was a little silence, then I heard movement at his end—the quiet intensity of his voice shivered my spine. Stay where you are. I'm visiting.

The line went dead before I could reply, and I was left standing there, the stillness weighty on me.

A few minutes later, the door to my suite exploded open, and Damien strode in, his acute eye evaluating the space. "Where would you have seen them?"

I said, pointing to the dark glass outside the window. "I knew someone was there; I couldn't see who it was."

His posture was rigid as he moved to the window, and for a minute I could see the great protectiveness in his eyes—a glimpse of the guy who would stop at nothing to guard me. But the moment faded rapidly, and the cold, calculated stare I had come to know took the front stage.

More to himself than to me, "It could have been one of Hargrave's people," he said. He has been known to turn to intimidation strategies.

What, then, does that mean for me? My voice just whispered, I asked.

He turned to me, his face insensible. You should not travel anywhere alone going forward. I will designate someone to always be with you.

Though I knew he was correct, the words seemed like a jail sentence. Whatever this was, whatever game Hargrave was engaged in, I have participated in it now and I enjoyed it.

And I felt an odd, disturbing warmth go through me as Damien approached, a reminder of the perilous attraction still simmering between us. His hand brushed mine.

"Lily," he said, his eyes softening just so slightly. I may have committed mistakes, but I won't let anyone suffer.

His voice's genuineness startled me, and for a split second, my fury vanished and was replaced with a sliver of hope. Then, though, his phone buzzed, and his face stiffened once more as his fingers tightened around mine.

He looked at the screen, his jaw closing as he read the message. It's Hargrave. He's about to move next.

What does that imply?