Chapter 102 The goods
The quiet murmur of a movie drifted through the space. He slowed as he approached the living area.
Jasmine sat curled comfortably on the large couch, a blanket loosely draped over her legs. In one hand she held the oversized raspberry drink she had insisted on getting earlier that day.
The bright pink liquid caught the glow of the television screen. Her attention was fixed completely on the movie. Damien stopped a few steps away and simply watched her.
She looked comfortable.
Relaxed.
Safe.
Something about the sight made a strange warmth settle in his chest. On the television screen, a familiar scene played out.
“How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.”
Damien huffed quietly under his breath.
Of course it was. That was the second romantic comedy she had watched today. Jasmine suddenly sensed his presence and turned her head.
Her eyes lit up immediately when she saw him standing there.
“Oh—”
She grabbed the remote and paused the movie.
The screen froze mid-scene as she shifted slightly on the couch, looking him over carefully. Her gaze moved slowly from his shoes… up to his dark trousers… then the fitted blue shirt beneath the jacket.
Her brows knit together in curiosity.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
Damien slipped his hands casually into his pockets.
“The office,” he answered smoothly.
The lie came easily. He had rehearsed it earlier in his mind. “Last-minute meeting.”
Jasmine blinked.
“At this hour?” she asked, glancing toward the dark windows where the city lights blinked quietly in the distance.
Damien gave a small shrug.
“Unfortunately.”
She studied his face for a moment, as if trying to read something hidden beneath the calm expression he wore. Then she sighed softly.
“Okay,” she said.
Her fingers curled slightly around the drink cup.
“When will you be back?”
There was a brief pause. Damien looked at her, really looked at her. At the soft curve of her hair falling over her shoulder. At the way the glow of the television reflected faintly in her brown eyes.
At the quiet hope in her voice.
Something twisted faintly in his chest. But he kept his voice steady. “Don’t wait up for me.”
The words landed heavier than he intended.
Jasmine’s shoulders dropped slightly.
The change was subtle but Damien noticed it immediately. The small spark of excitement that had been in her expression dimmed just a little.
Still, she forced a smile and nodded. “Alright.”
She took a small sip of her drink, eyes drifting briefly back toward the paused movie on the screen. Damien stepped closer. He reached out gently, tilting her chin upward with his fingers before she could look away completely.
Then he kissed her.
Soft.
Quick.
But warm.
The kind of kiss meant to reassure.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured quietly.
Jasmine nodded again, though the faint disappointment in her eyes remained.
“Be careful,” she said softly.
A strange look flickered across Damien’s face at those words. If only she knew, he brushed his thumb lightly along her cheek before stepping back. "I love you, tesoro" the words came from his lips. She stared at him, like he was something out of this world. Those three words always grounded him, in situations where felt like he was loosing himself.
Then he turned and walked toward the elevator at the far end of the apartment. The quiet hum of the television filled the space again as Jasmine slowly unpaused the movie.
In front of him, the elevator doors slid open with a soft metallic whisper. Damien stepped inside.
As the doors closed, the last thing he saw was Jasmine curled up on the couch again, her attention returning to the glowing screen.
The elevator began its slow descent.
And Damien’s expression hardened, the night had only just begun.
The elevator descended in silence.
A quiet mechanical hum filled the enclosed space as the numbers above the door blinked steadily downward. Damien stood still, hands resting loosely in the pockets of his jacket, his gaze fixed on the polished steel doors in front of him.
But he wasn’t really seeing them. His mind was still upstairs, still in the living room. Still with Jasmine.
The image of her curled up on the couch lingered stubbornly in his thoughts. The soft blanket around her legs. The oversized drink in her hand. The faint glow from the television lighting up her face as she watched yet another romantic comedy.
He exhaled slowly.
And then there had been that look.
The small drop in her shoulders when he told her not to wait up. It had been subtle. Most people wouldn’t have noticed. But Damien noticed everything when it came to her.
His jaw tightened slightly.
The elevator reached the ground floor with a soft ding, the doors sliding open to reveal the quiet underground parking garage.
Damien stepped out.
The air down there was cooler, tinged with the faint smell of concrete and motor oil. The fluorescent lights overhead cast long shadows between the rows of parked vehicles.
His black car waited near the far wall.
Waiting.
Like everything else tonight.
Damien crossed the garage with steady strides and unlocked the car with a soft beep. The headlights blinked once in acknowledgment.
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
For a moment he didn’t move.
Instead, he leaned back slightly and ran a hand across his jaw.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Damien pulled it out.
A message.
Percival.
Just two words.
On route.
Damien glanced at the time again.
6:42PM. Right on schedule. He placed the phone in the cup holder and pulled the car out of the garage. The city at that hour felt almost surreal.
New York never truly slept, but the early hours before dawn carried a strange calm that only a few people ever witnessed.
Traffic lights blinked lazily at empty intersections.
Streetlights bathed the sidewalks in golden pools of light. A few taxis rolled past occasionally, their headlights slicing through the quiet streets.
Damien drove in silence.
His thoughts were already shifting toward the meeting ahead. Percival had secured the girls.
Three of them. The images he had received earlier flashed briefly in his mind.
Young.
Scared.
Recruited young.
Easily trained, Dominic had said.
The memory left a bitter taste in Damien’s mouth.