Chapter 6 - THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST
The afternoon sun cast long, amber shadows across the Ravenscourt gardens as I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of my suite, staring out at the manicured hedges where I had spent yesterday afternoon hanging fairy lights for ungrateful donors. How strange it was that twenty-four hours could completely shatter a person's reality and rebuild it into something unrecognizable.
The door behind me clicked open.
Damon walked in, having changed into a crisp charcoal suit that accentuated his towering, lethal frame. The harsh lines of his face softened slightly when he saw me standing by the glass.
"Marcus briefed you?" he asked, walking over and stopping a few feet away.
"He told me about the Mayor's Ball tomorrow night," I replied, turning to face him. "He told me Rossi is going to try to break me in front of the entire city."
Damon’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek. "Rossi won't get close to you. I’m placing a personal detail of four men around you twenty-four hours a day until this is resolved."
"That’s not living, Damon," I said, taking a step toward him. "That’s being a prisoner in a very expensive cage. Why did you really pick me? Out of all the rooms in this massive estate, why did I have to stumble into yours?"
Damon didn't answer immediately. He walked slowly toward me, closing the distance until I could feel the heat radiating off his body. He reached out, his scarred hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
"You didn't stumble, Vivian," he whispered, his voice rough and deep. "The west wing is locked to everyone. The staff knows never to enter it. But the security logs showed you bypassed the biometric scanner because the system recognized your cleaning clearance from three years ago."
I blinked, confused. "My clearance? I've only worked for GalaTech for six months."
A ghost of a smile touched Damon’s lips. "Your mother worked for the Castellano household when you were a child, Vivian. Her clearance code was grandfathered into the Ravenscourt mainframes. You walked into my bedroom because, in a way, you were always meant to be there."
The revelation hit me like a physical blow. My mother? Working for the Castellanos? Why had she never told me?
Before I could ask another question, a frantic knock sounded at the suite door.
May you like
Marcus pushed his way inside without waiting for permission, his face pale and sweating.
"Boss," Marcus panted, looking directly at Damon. "We have a major problem. The North End faction just firebombed one of our primary warehouses down by the docks. And they left a message written in blood on the front gate addressed to your fiancée."
