Chapter 19

Laura’s POV.

I just walked into my cozy little apartment, tired and hungry. I was wondering what I could have for dinner when my phone flashed Damian Steels on the screen, my heart fluttered.

His sharp voice sounded over the speaker, carrying a non-negotiable tone that made me weak in the knees.

“Step outside. My driver is outside.”

I didn't even have time to change my clothes. I just threw on an oversized sweater over my shirt, I grabbed my bag, and went down the stairs of my apartment building.

Standing by the curb was a sleek, blacked-out Maybach. The driver opened the rear door silently nodding respectfully as I climbed into the back.

I expected the car to head straight toward Steels Tower or his grand city mansion. But as the minutes ticked by, the city lights faded into the background. The concrete streets gave way to dark, tree-lined roads winding deep into the countryside.

I wondered where he was taking me?

“Where are we going?”

Thirty minutes later, the car pulled through a massive iron gate.

At the end of the road sat a breathtaking glass house. It was secluded. I stared at the house in surprise. It was beautiful, quiet, and completely surrounded by trees. The huge glass windows made it feel open and peaceful, but private at the same time.

“Wow,” I whispered, looking around.

This was the house Brenda always mentioned.

The driver opened my door. "Mr. Steel is inside, Miss Laura."

I steadied my breath before walking up the stone steps.

He pushed the heavy front door open.

When I stepped inside, I breathed in that familiar smell. He was here, I could feel my heart flutter in a way that surprised me.

Damian was standing in the living room, he looked different. I gasped.

He was wearing a turtle neck with his hands in his trousers pocket. My eyes swept through the broadness of his back.

He turned his head as I stepped inside. His dark eyes swept over me, assessing every inch of my face with a serious look on his face.

"You're late," he said in a raspy whisper.

"I... I came as fast as I could," I stammered, crossing my arms over my chest. "Damian, why did you bring me here?"

He didn't answer right away. He turned back to the kitchen counter, picking up a heavy porcelain plate, and walked toward the high marble island.

"Come and sit down, Laura."

"I…”

"Sit," he repeated. He wasn't loud but there was authority in his voice that I did not want to disobey, though I hesitated, I walked over and pulled out one of the leather barstools, and sat down.

Damian slid the plate directly in front of me. On it sat a gourmet meal, tender braised steak, roasted potatoes, and warm, buttery greens. The smell hit me instantly, making my stomach ache with sudden hunger.

"You skipped lunch?" He asked, I looked up at him in confusion.

“How did you know?” I asked him.

“How did I know you don't like eating?” He asked me, looking at me, as if that was the most open information about me.

“Now, I won't want you skipping meals again.” He said, scooping food to my plates.

I glared at him, and opened my mouth to protest.

He turned his head away dramatically.

“I don't want to hear anything from you. You are not going to protest.”

“Fine,” I agreed reluctantly. I knew I would do what I wanted anyways.

Damien smirked, the smirk made me uneasy in a way that I felt he would make sure I eat all my meals.

He stood watching me pick up my spoon. His large hands on the edge of the marble counter as he leaned in slightly. His massive frame shadowed mine.

"My driver told me you skipped dinner at campus. And looking at you now, you look like a breeze could blow you over."

My cheeks flushed hot. "I wasn't hungry. I had things on my mind."

"What was on your mind," Damian said, his voice dropping an octave into a dark, possessive gravel. "When you're with me, you don't starve yourself. Eat."

"You can't just order me around like one of your employees," I muttered, trying to hold onto my pride.

Damian’s dark eyes narrowed into two dangerous slits. He didn't back down an inch. He simply stood there, towering over the counter, watching me with an unyielding glare that told me he wouldn't let me leave this stool until the plate was clear.

Realizing I was never going to win a power struggle against Damian Steels, I took a small bite.

The food was incredible. Before I could stop myself, I took another bite, then another. I hadn't realized just how exhausted and drained I actually was until warm food hit my stomach.

Damian didn't say a word. He just stood across from me, his intense gaze softened but was fixed on my face.

The heavy, intimidating tension in the room began to melt away, replaced by a quiet, protective warmth that made my chest warm.

When I finally finished, wiping my mouth with a napkin, Damian reached out and took the empty plate away.

"Better?" he asked softly.

"Yes," I admitted, looking down at my hands. "Thank you."

Instead of demanding anything from me, Damian walked over to a plush, oversized sofa facing the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the woods outside.

He picked up a thick, plush cashmere blanket off the armchair.

"Come here," he commanded gently. He beckoned over.

I stood up from the barstool and walked over to him. I sat near him.

He pulled me closer to him, my head resting on his shoulder.

He didn't try to touch me inappropriately or force me into his bed. Instead, he wrapped the heavy blanket over my shoulders, tucking it securely around me before taking a seat on the far end of the couch.

He opened an iPad resting on the coffee table, settling in to review some documents, leaving a little space between us.

"Rest, Laura," he said, not even looking up from his screen, though his voice was entirely focused on me. "No questions. Just sleep."

I pulled the warm blanket tighter around myself, leaning back into the soft cushions.

Out there, in the real world, everything was complicated. I had college stress, I didn't want to think about how Brenda will feel when she finds out, Gabriel completely showing up whenever he wants.

But inside this hidden glass house, surrounded by the quiet hum of the night and the towering, protective presence of Damian Steels, I felt something I hadn't felt in a very long time.

I felt a sense of complete safety.

My eyelids grew heavy. As I drifted off to sleep, the last thing I saw was the quiet, ruthless man who held the city in his hands, sitting silently beside me, keeping watch over my sleep.