The Man Behind the Name

Chapter Twelve

I couldn't stop thinking about Damien's last words.

You.

He trusted me.

I didn't know what to do with that.

Trust wasn't something I expected from a man like him. Not after everything I'd learned about his family, his business, his enemies.

And certainly not from someone who had built his entire life around never trusting anyone.

Yet he'd said it without hesitation.

One person.

You.

I sat alone in the library long after he had left, staring at the book I'd forgotten I was holding.

My wedding was in three days.

Three days until I became Lena De Luca.

Three days until everyone who mattered in Damien's world knew exactly who I was.

And apparently, someone was already waiting for it.

I closed the book.

I needed air.

I walked through the mansion until I found the terrace overlooking the gardens.

The doors opened automatically.

Cool evening air touched my face.

I stepped outside.

The garden was beautiful.

Too beautiful for a place where men carried guns beneath their jackets.

I walked down the stone path.

A guard watched from a distance.

Another stood near the entrance.

I was beginning to get used to them.

That scared me.

I had spent my entire life being independent.

Now I couldn't walk twenty feet without someone watching.

I stopped beside a fountain.

For a moment, I closed my eyes.

I thought about the club.

The music.

The lights.

The stage.

The nights when I had danced because my father needed medicine.

I had hated every second of it.

But it had been mine.

My decision.

My way of surviving.

Now even that was gone.

"Missing it?"

I opened my eyes.

Damien stood a few feet away.

I hadn't heard him approach.

"The club?"

He nodded.

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

I shrugged.

"Because it was the only thing I could control."

He looked at me.

"You won't have to work there anymore."

"I know."

"Your father's treatment is covered."

"I know."

"And you can finish university."

"I know."

He waited.

I looked at him.

"That doesn't mean I know what I'm supposed to do with my life now."

Something softened in his expression.

"You'll figure it out."

I laughed quietly.

"That's easy for you to say."

"Why?"

"You've already figured out who you are."

He looked toward the gardens.

"Have I?"

I studied him.

"I think so."

"I haven't."

His answer surprised me.

"You seem very sure of yourself."

"That's different."

"How?"

"I know what I have to do."

"Not what you want?"

His eyes returned to mine.

"No."

The honesty between us was becoming dangerous.

I looked away.

"What did you want before all of this?"

He was silent.

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember?"

"I remember."

"Then?"

"I don't talk about it."

I smiled.

"That's not the same thing."

"No."

I turned toward him.

"You can ask me something too."

"I already know enough about you."

"That's not fair."

"What?"

"You know everything about me."

"I know what you've told me."

"You know where I work, where I live, where my father is, where I went to university..."

"I know more."

I frowned.

"How much more?"

He didn't answer.

"Damien."

His eyes met mine.

"I know you hate coffee without sugar."

I blinked.

"What?"

"You always order tea when you're nervous."

My mouth opened.

"You've been watching me."

"Yes."

"That's creepy."

"I know."

"You know what else?"

His expression changed.

"What?"

"I noticed you don't sleep when you're worried."

He stared at me.

I smiled.

"Got you."

"I sleep."

"No."

"Lena."

"You were awake last night."

His eyes narrowed.

"So were you."

"Because I was having nightmares."

"And I was working."

"At two in the morning?"

"Yes."

I smiled.

"You're terrible at lying."

His mouth twitched.

"Maybe."

We stood there in silence.

Then Damien said quietly:

"Your father asked to speak with me."

My smile disappeared.

"When?"

"Before dinner."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

I stepped closer.

"What did he say?"

Damien looked at me.

"He told me to leave you."

My heart sank.

"And?"

"I refused."

"Why?"

"Because I can't."

"Because I'm leverage."

"No."

His answer was immediate.

"Then why?"

He stared at me.

"Because every time I imagine letting you walk away, I think about what happened to the last person I failed to protect."

I stopped breathing.

The woman he'd loved.

The one who died.

"You think protecting me will make up for her?"

"No."

His voice was almost a whisper.

"Nothing will."

I didn't know what to say.

He looked away.

"That's why I don't let people close."

I took a step toward him.

"Maybe you don't have to be alone."

His eyes returned to mine.

"You don't know what you're offering."

"Maybe I don't."

"You should."

"I'm not offering forever."

His jaw tightened.

"I'm offering tonight."

Something changed in his face.

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then he stepped closer.

Not touching.

Just close enough that I could feel the warmth of him.

"You're making this difficult."

I swallowed.

"What's difficult?"

"Remembering this is supposed to be a business arrangement."

My heart beat faster.

"Maybe it isn't anymore."

His gaze dropped briefly to my lips.

Then returned to my eyes.

The moment stretched.

I thought he might kiss me.

Part of me wanted him to.

That realization frightened me.

Damien seemed to notice.

He stepped back.

"We should go inside."

I nodded.

"Probably."

We walked toward the doors.

Neither of us spoke.

Then my phone rang.

I looked at the screen.

Hospital.

I answered immediately.

"Hello?"

A nurse spoke.

"Miss Moretti, your father asked for you."

"I'm coming."

I hung up.

Damien was already reaching for his coat.

"I'll take you."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

My father was awake when we arrived.

He looked better.

Stronger.

But when he saw Damien behind me, his expression became serious.

"Lena."

"Hi."

He looked at Damien.

"Can we talk?"

Damien nodded.

"Of course."

My father looked at me.

"Alone."

I hesitated.

Damien stepped back.

"I'll be outside."

He left.

I sat beside my father.

"What is it?"

He looked at me for a long time.

"Do you love him?"

The question hit me so hard I couldn't answer.

"What?"

"Do you love Damien?"

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

My father noticed.

He smiled sadly.

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not."

"Then why did you hesitate?"

I looked down.

"I don't know what I feel."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Dad..."

He squeezed my hand.

"He's dangerous."

"I know."

"He'll tell you he's protecting you."

"He is."

"He'll tell you he doesn't want to hurt you."

"He hasn't."

"He'll make you believe he's different."

I frowned.

"Maybe he is."

My father's eyes filled with sadness.

"You sound like your mother."

I froze.

"What does that mean?"

He looked away.

"Your mother believed everyone had something good inside them."

"She was right."

"Not everyone."

"But Damien?"

He didn't answer.

I squeezed his hand.

"What happened between you and his family?"

My father was silent.

Then he whispered:

"I didn't tell you everything."

My heart sank.

"What didn't you tell me?"

"The ledger wasn't the only thing I took."

I stared at him.

"What else?"

"A name."

"Whose?"

He looked toward the door.

Then back at me.

"Damien's."

I frowned.

"What?"

"I took evidence."

"What evidence?"

"Evidence that could destroy the De Luca family."

My blood went cold.

"Does Damien know?"

"No."

"Then why did he marry me?"

My father closed his eyes.

"He doesn't know the truth."

"What truth?"

My father looked at me.

"The man Damien killed wasn't the only person who owed money."

I waited.

"There were three men that night."

I remembered the warehouse.

The man on his knees.

Damien's gun.

The darkness.

"Three?"

My father nodded.

"One died."

"What happened to the others?"

"They disappeared."

I stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because Damien wasn't there to collect money."

My stomach tightened.

"What was he there for?"

My father looked terrified.

"Revenge."

I swallowed.

"For what?"

"Those men were responsible for your mother's death."

Everything inside me stopped.

"My mother?"

My father nodded.

"I never told you the whole story."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to have a normal life."

I laughed bitterly.

"Normal?"

"I'm sorry."

I stood.

"Did Damien know?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I paced the room.

"If he didn't know, why did he kill that man?"

"Because the man was part of the same organization."

I shook my head.

"This doesn't make sense."

"It will."

My father reached beneath his pillow.

He pulled out a small key.

I stared at it.

"What is that?"

"The truth."

He placed it in my palm.

"Where does it lead?"

"A locker."

"Where?"

"I'll tell you when you're safe."

I looked at the key.

"You can't give me something like this and then tell me nothing."

"Listen to me."

His voice became urgent.

"Whatever happens, don't give this to Damien."

My heart stopped.

"Why?"

"Because if he gets it..."

He looked toward the door.

"He'll finally know what his father did."

I stared at him.

"And what happens then?"

My father whispered:

"He'll destroy everyone."

The door suddenly opened.

Damien stood there.

His eyes immediately went to the key in my hand.

Silence.

He looked at my father.

Then at me.

"What is that?"

My father went pale.

I closed my fingers around the key.

"Nothing."

Damien's gaze hardened.

"Lena."

I had never heard my name sound like that.

Not angry.

Not threatening.

Worried.

And somehow that was worse.

He stepped into the room.

"What did he give you?"

I looked at my father.

Then at Damien.

For the first time since I'd met him, I had something he desperately wanted.

And my father had just told me never to give it to him.

I slipped the key into my pocket.

"Nothing."

Damien stared at me.

He knew I was lying.

And for the first time, I realized that his one rule had never been about obedience.

It had been about trust.

Never lie to Damien.

I had just broken it.

And I had no idea what would happen when he discovered why.