Breaking His Rules (16 page)

He’d piqued my curiosity and I waited patiently for him to confess his reasons for meeting with my father. But I wasn’t going to let him off the hook. Inserting himself in the middle of my problems wasn’t cool, especially without talking to me about it first. Still, it was a forgivable offense since it came from a good place.

A minute ticked by without a word spoken and my brow knitted. Why was this so difficult for him? I bit my lower lip and studied his face. His intense stare sent shivers rippling along my spine.

“I offered to purchase Let It Rayne,” he finally said.

Our eyes connected as his words sank into my addled brain. I gaped at him with a thousand questions hurtling through my mind at light speed and then I closed my mouth, unsure where to start. I opened my mouth again, only to close it almost immediately. Confusion flooded me and I shook my head a little to clear the cobwebs. There was no way I had heard him right. Why on earth would he want to purchase my family’s restaurant?

“Come again?” I asked, my voice little more than a croak.

“I’m negotiating with your father to buy Let It Rayne,” he said in an even tone of voice. Reaching for my hands, he grasped them firmly in his and rubbed soothing circles in the palms. “You’re too young to remember this, but your father didn’t purchase Let It Rayne. He won the restaurant from my father. In a game of poker, to be exact.”

Let It Rayne had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. My father loved that place—almost more so than the rest of his dynasty. I pulled my hands away and stood, heading to the closet in the hallway where I retrieved a nightshirt, pulling it over my head. We needed to sort this out and I couldn’t think straight while naked.

Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “You’re mistaken, Damon.”

“No, I’m not mistaken,” he said, standing and pulling on his boxer shorts, watching me warily from the bedside.

I ventured into the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the tap. My gut clenched as I processed the information and a question burned a path to my tongue, demanding to be asked. How long had Damon been planning to make an offer on Let It Rayne?

“That restaurant has been in my mother’s family for generations,” he continued softly, but forcefully. “My father was a fucking bastard for gambling it away without a care.”

“Water?” I asked over my shoulder. My voice cracked and reverberated in my chest.

“Yes, please.”

I didn’t want to hear anymore…didn’t want to consider what this meant. Did Damon know who I was when he’d approached me that first night in Midnight Blue? He certainly knew before he fucked me senseless on his couch. My mouth felt unbearably parched as he padded over to me, keeping a respectful distance between us. This next part was not going to be easy and I dreaded his answer because a part of me already knew where our conversation was headed.

“What did my father say to your proposal?” I asked, turning to meet Damon face-to-face before sipping my water.

He took a deep breath and leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. “He was agreeable under one condition.”

I swallowed hard. “Which was?”

“If I can get you to move back home, then it’s a done deal.”

My shoulders slumped and he reached out to pull me into his arms.

“I’m not going back,” I said, burying my face into his chest. “I’m sorry, Damon. But you can’t ask that of me. Even if the restaurant has been in your family for generations. There has to be another way.”

Kissing the top of my head, he sighed and tightened his hold. “I’d never ask you to go back home given the circumstances.”

“My father is a fool to think you could convince me.”

I glanced up and almost flinched at the guilt and sorrow reflected in Damon’s eyes. There was more to this than he was letting on. What was he hiding from me? He averted his gaze and I stepped back, placing my hand over my stomach as a nauseating thought struck me. Fuck. My father couldn’t possibly have known Damon was my lover. But he knew I worked at Midnight Blue.

“He wanted you to fire me, didn’t he?”

Damon nodded and my heart shattered into tiny pieces. Chicago was hundreds of miles away from New York but I still couldn’t escape my father’s clutches. And now Damon found himself in the middle of it all—having to choose between me and his family’s restaurant.

“That’s not all,” he whispered. “He asked me to ruin your reputation. Make some calls so there was no chance you’d ever find another bartending job in town.”

Shock rocked through me and I slumped against the kitchen counter, the devastation engulfing me. Tears glistened in my eyes as I fought to bury my pain beneath a thick layer of callouses I’d built over the years. How could my father choose Giovanni’s side and do this to me?

“Oh, my God.” My head snapped up and I stared at Damon wide-eyed. “What if you’d met with my father before you knew about Giovanni? I shudder to even think about it.”

Damon cleared his throat, and then licked his lips. He couldn’t meet my gaze when he said, “I’ve been trying to buy Let It Rayne back from your father for several months.”

“You what?” My knees buckled and I stumbled. He caught me and swooped me into his arms. A few short strides later, he set me on the edge of the bed. And I was grateful because my head was spinning with the implications of his revelation.

“Tell me,” I demanded, my voice distant and wooden. There was no room for speculation. I wanted the truth…and I wanted to hear it from his lips. “Tell me everything. And
don’t lie
to me.”

He sat next to me and leaned his hands against the bed for support. “I first met your father about three months ago. He was completely against the idea of selling the restaurant. I begged. Offered an obscene amount of money. Told him I’d do or pay anything to get it back.”

My head lowered and I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “And?”

“And he said there was only one thing I could do to win him over.”

I bit my lip and gazed into his eyes. He was guarded. His body stiff. Like he was bracing himself for one hell of a fight.

“He asked me to hire you,” Damon continued. “Let you get your feet wet. And then ruin your reputation so you had no alternative but to return home.”

That sounded exactly like something my father would do. I ran a shaking hand through my hair and ambled to the window, needing to put distance between us. I stared unseeing at the courtyard below. It was dark so there wasn’t much other than the fountain running under the spotlights to distract me. A dull ache settled between my breastbones as I fit the puzzle pieces together. My hand rubbed methodically against my chest in an effort to ease the pain.

“Is that why I was hired at Midnight Blue?” I turned in his direction and didn’t bother to hide the sheen of tears misting my eyes. “Six months went by without a response to my résumé and then suddenly…”

What would I have given not to have to ask that question? Almost anything. But I deserved the truth, even though asking him made me feel like a complete bitch. Was Damon capable of treachery of this magnitude?

He strode to the window and leaned his shoulder against it, staring down at me.

“Yes,” he said, woodenly.

My stomach protested and I closed my eyes to stifle the urge to puke. Damon knew who I was from the moment he laid eyes on me at Midnight Blue. All of it was a game for him. Every minute we had shared meant nothing.

“Listen to me, Samantha.” He rasped. “It took me a long time to come to that decision. I didn’t want to resort to manipulation and to put myself in the middle of whatever was going on between you and your father. That felt wrong. But your father wouldn’t relent and I was becoming desperate. I convinced myself you were probably a selfish brat in need of saving.”

Anger replaced my pain and pushed my blood pressure through the roof. “You knew it was me on the first night in The Lounge when we met, didn’t you?”

His throat convulsed and I had my answer before he even said a word.

“Yes,” he said, rubbing my upper arm and pleading silently with his eyes for forgiveness. “Knowing what I do now, I would take it all back in a heartbeat. I’m so sorry. Please believe me.”

“Oh, my God,” I cried, lacing my fingers through my hair and tugging hard. “You’ve been using me this entire time.” I shoved past him and grabbed his pile of clothes, tossing them in his face. “When were you going to drop the ball on me? Get dressed and get the fuck out of here. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Tears streamed down my face and he reached for me, but I backed away. His clothes fell to the ground and he inched toward me, like a man chasing after a frightened kitten.

“Samantha, please,” he begged, finally backing me into the wall and grabbing my hands in his. “Hear me out. I know you’re angry. And you have every right to be angry. Just hear me out before you make any rash decisions.”

Gut-wrenching pain spliced through my heart and I had no desire to listen to any more of his lies. “You promised to take us to heaven and back,” I shouted, banging my fists against his chest. “But instead you’re dragging us through hell. You fucking bastard!”

“Please, listen.” Grabbing my shoulders, he shook me until I was forced to give him my attention. “I didn’t go through with it! Can’t you see? I could’ve fired your ass after we fucked that first night. It gave me all the ammunition I needed to bury you. But I didn’t.”

His voice trembled with fear and desperation but I didn’t want to care. He had come to mean a great deal to me in a short amount of time so his betrayal cut deep. Yet his words penetrated my haze of anger, snapping me out of my stupor and I glared at him.

“Why
didn’t
you go through with it?” I asked, disentangling myself from his grip. “The gun was loaded and all you had to do was pull the trigger. Fuck. I played right into your hands.” I poked my finger into his chest. “Why didn’t you fire me the morning after you fucked me?”

“Believe me,” he said, hands on his hips and head bowed, “I wanted nothing more than to go through with it. Getting the restaurant back means a lot to my mother. But I wasn’t kidding when I said you bewitched me, Samantha. I couldn’t go through with it. You’re a damned good bartender. A fantastic lover. And incredibly smart and witty. I didn’t know what the hell was going on with you and your father, but I knew enough that I didn’t want to kill your spirit. It’s rare that I find a woman as confident, determined, and resourceful as you. No doubt I can be a mean bastard when it comes to business. But this was personal. So I decided that I’d have to wear down your father some other way.”

He hadn’t fired me…but that didn’t forgive his actions…and now everything we had shared on that magical night turned to fairy dust. “You meant it when you said you
never
invite employees into your private apartment at Midnight Blue. Didn’t you?”

“I meant it.”

A sharp pain throbbed in my head and all I wanted was for this nightmare to end. “So you invited me in there only because you intended to ruin me?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t ruin me.”

“No, love, I couldn’t.”

My body collapsed into a heap on the floor as I accepted the truth, burying my face in my hands. I’d never felt so utterly defeated, so sad. Damon had broken through my barriers and convinced me he was honest and honorable. Leaning my head against the wall, I closed my eyes because I couldn’t bear the sight of him anymore. Nothing made sense. I couldn’t trust my instincts. Where had I gone wrong in this mess of a situation? I needed clarity so I could avoid falling into another trap.

“Why did you ask me out for a second night, Damon?”

He sank onto the floor next to me and leaned his back against the wall, resting his hands against bended knees. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Because I desperately wanted you.” He glanced at me. “And it pissed me off you were so eager to get out of my car to greet another man.”

A grunt of satisfaction lifted my shoulders at his honest admission. I recalled quite well his display of jealousy. Letting out a deep breath, I turned to gaze at him. Quiet resolve filled me and I summoned the strength to move on. Still, I needed all of the facts if I wanted to win the never ending battle against my father.

“So, what did you discuss with my father on Sunday?” I asked, sitting rigidly in place, willing Damon not to touch me. A girl could only be expected to handle so much and I was on the brink of breaking down.

“I told him all bets were off and he’s a crazy sonofabitch for encouraging Giovanni in his pursuit of you. I’ll find another way to convince him to sell the restaurant to me.”

I nodded and stayed silent for a minute, digging deep for the courage to address one of my biggest concerns. “Do I still have a job?”

His eyes narrowed on me. “Why wouldn’t you? Of course you still have a job. I told your father to go fuck himself. Why would I fire you after that?”

“Because you and I are over.” I shrugged and got to my feet. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to work at Midnight Blue after everything that’s happened.” Rubbing my arms to ward off the cold, I sighed. “I appreciate the gesture, though. You telling my father to fuck off. This isn’t the first time my father has pressured my employer to fire me, but you’re the first to say no.”

“We are not over.” Jumping to his feet, Damon wrapped me in his embrace and pulled me tight against his body. “There’s no reason we can’t continue on as we have been. I care about you, Samantha, and I enjoy spending time with you. Don’t you want to explore this thing we have going on? This attraction is rare and I think you know it.”

“Damon—” My voice caught in my throat and I turned away.

How could he expect me to trust him ever again after he plotted in such a cold way to destroy my reputation in exchange for a business deal? I had warned him that night in his penthouse about my disdain for calculating billionaires. He could’ve confessed everything in that moment but hadn’t. Didn’t that put him on par with Giovanni and my father? The thought soured my gut and didn’t feel quite right. They weren’t the same but Damon had proven he could be every bit as ruthless when the motivation was right. I turned and looked him square in the eyes. “I can’t trust you.”