Chapter Seven
The Safe House
The car arrived within twenty minutes.
It was a sleek black Jaguar with bulletproof glass and no driver identification. The windows were so darkly tinted that I felt swallowed by silence the moment I slid into the back seat.
We drove for over an hour, out of the city, through the suburbs, and into a secluded estate near Fontainebleau, where the trees appeared to breathe secrets.
The gate opened after a biometric scan.
The house beyond was minimalist and cold. All white and gray, built like a fortress. Security cameras were stationed on every corner, and two armed men in black stood at the door.
Damian was waiting inside.
His hair was slightly damp, his sleeves were rolled up, and he was holding a drink. No tie. No mask.
Simply raw, exhausted silence.
"You disobeyed me," he explained quietly.
"I followed the trail that you left."
He looked at me with something between admiration and regret.
"I did not mean for you to find Gray," he admitted finally. "Not like this."
Then tell me the truth. "All of it."
Damian's jaw flexed. He turned and walked to the massive glass window that overlooked the woods.
"I met Gray Chapman when I was 21. He saved my life in Morocco during an unsuccessful arms negotiation. Since then, he has been more than just a friend. He has been my shield. "My conscience."
"What happened with him?"
"We were executing a black-tier operation via TitanLux's private channel. Someone has leaked our itinerary. The ambush was brutal. "I barely escaped."
"But Gray did not die."
"No," Damian replied slowly. "He vanished."
He turned back to face me.
"He has returned, but not as he was before."
We sat silently for a while. The fire crackled between us, casting shadows across the marble floor.
"He is watching me," I admitted finally.
"I understand."
"Why?""Because he wants to understand who you are to me."
I swallowed. "So, what am I?"
Damian bridged the gap between us.
"You are the only person I have let through my walls in years. And this makes you a liability.
"To you?"
"To him." His voice lowered. "Naomi, gray is dangerous. If he believes you have replaced him, he will not stop."
I stood up, and the air between us became charged.
"Did you love him?"
Damian's jaw twitched. "In a way. Not in the way he preferred. "Not the way I love you."
My breath caught.
"What?"He moved closer.
"I should not. I promised myself I wouldn't. But I felt it from the first night of the Gala. You came in as a challenge I did not want. And now I can not let you go.
His hand touched my cheek. My skin burned.
"But if you stay," he whispered, "you must understand that this is not a game." Gray is alive. And he does not want me to have anything that he cannot have.
That night, I did not sleep.
I lay in the room Damian had given me, with cold sheets, white walls, and a loaded Glock on my nightstand.
At 3:17 a.m., the house alarms went off.
Security was put on high alert within seconds.
I dashed down the hall, heart pounding, right into Damian.
"Stay behind me," he instructed.
A shadow moved out of the glass doors. Then another.
The lights went out.
And, just before everything went black, I noticed a face through the window.
Gray Chapman.
Smiling.