Chapter 73 Permanently
“Now,” I say, “let’s go to the kitchen, tesoro.”
A shy smile curves her lips. She rests her head against my chest, relaxing into my arms.
I carry her down the stairs.
When we reach the kitchen, I set her on the island counter. She sits there, legs dangling, watching me like I’m something precious she doesn’t want to blink away.
I start the coffee maker. The sound fills the quiet house. I pull two cups from the cupboard and return to her, placing them on the counter.
I step between her legs, bracing my hands on either side of her hips, trapping her gently against the island.
She lifts her hands and cups my face, rubbing the tip of her nose against mine. She giggles and kisses my nose. My heart stutters in my chest.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “I’m going to miss you.”
She runs her knuckles along my stubble, humming thoughtfully. “I might not miss you as much.”
I gasp. “What?”
She rolls her eyes, trying—and failing—to hide her smile. “I’ll miss the pastries you buy more than I’ll miss you.”
She closes her eyes dramatically and nods, as if sealing her verdict. “Oh really?” I challenge.
Before she can reply, I attack her sides with my fingers.
She bursts into laughter, thrashing lightly against the counter. “Damien! Stop!”
“Tell the truth!”
“I can’t breathe!”
“Truth first!”
“I’ll miss you! I’ll miss you so much!” she gasps.
I finally stop, letting her catch her breath. She clutches her chest and glares at me.
“You’re so mean.”
“You love it when I’m mean.”
She doesn’t deny it. She just looks at me.
I pour two cups of coffee, adding milk and sugar to hers without thinking.
She notices immediately. “How did you know?”
I shrug shamelessly. “I watch you. I’ve learned your preferences by heart.”
She stares at me, stunned. I place her cup in her hands.
We drink in silence.
The elevator dings. Two men in suits step into the room, followed by Richelle. They carry her bags. They greet us politely.
Richelle crosses the room and hugs Jasmine tightly. I send Marco upstairs to fetch my suitcase. While they discuss security arrangements, I turn back to Jasmine. She walks to me, her eyes heavy with sadness.
“I’ll miss you so much, tesoro.”
“Call me,” she says quickly. “Every chance you get. And be careful. And don’t get angry.”
I nod, pulling her into my arms. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in like I might run out of her if I don’t.
Letting go hurts.
It feels like something is tearing inside my chest.
I kiss the crown of her head, then address Richelle, explaining where the men will be stationed and how to contact them.
Richelle crossed her arms as the men moved through the living room, checking corners and speaking quietly into their earpieces. Damien turned to her, his expression serious now—no teasing, no warmth. Just command.
“Richelle,” he said, lowering his voice. “I need you to listen to me carefully.”
She lifted a brow. “That tone never means anything simple.”
“It isn’t.” His jaw tightened. “These men will remain outside the house at all times. Two at the gate. Two on rotation. No one comes in without clearance. Not friends. Not delivery men. Not neighbors.”
Richelle’s teasing expression faded. “You think Raymond might try something?”
“I don’t think,” Damien replied quietly. “I know he will if he gets the chance.”
Richelle swallowed. “Damien…”
He stepped closer. “Jasmine does not leave this house alone. If she needs groceries, medicine, anything—you call Marco or Luca. They will escort her.”
Richelle sighed, rubbing her arms. “You’re turning your house into a fortress.”
“I’m turning it into a shield,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”
She studied his face for a long moment. “And what about me?”
He looked at her then, really looked at her. “You keep her calm. You don’t let her spiral. You don’t tell her more than she needs to know. And if she wakes up at night scared—”
“I stay with her,” Richelle finished softly.
“Yes.” His voice roughened. “You stay with her.”
Richelle hesitated. “What if she asks about you?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Tell her I’m working. Tell her I’ll be back soon. Don’t let her think she’s alone in this.”
She nodded slowly. “And if something happens?”
His eyes darkened. “If anything feels wrong—even a little—you call me. Day or night. I don’t care if I’m in the middle of hell itself.”
Richelle gave a weak smile. “You’re terrifying when you’re protective.”
“I’m terrifying when I’m afraid,” he admitted.
Silence hung between them for a second.
Then Richelle stepped forward and touched his arm. “She’s stronger than you think.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I refuse to let her be brave alone.”
Richelle inhaled deeply. “I’ll watch her like she’s my own.”
His gaze softened. “Thank you.”
She tilted her head. “Just come back alive, okay? I don’t want to explain to her why you didn’t.”
Damien didn’t answer immediately. Then, quietly, “I will.”
Jasmine walks me to the elevator.
As the doors slide shut, she blows me a kiss.
I catch it and tuck it into my suit pocket.
Her sad smile is the last thing I see.
And I carry it with me into the unknown, into the grounds I had sworn never to return to. All for my tesoro, I would walk to hell and back, and I was well on my way. Richelle didn't know everything about my past, but she knew enough to know that she was here not just as Jasmine's emotional support, but as an assurance to me, that she would protect her from any fears that would torment her while I was away.
I needed to make sure I returned with good news about Raymond. Whether that meant I would end Raymond or not, I wasn't sure. But he needed to know what it meant to cross me, to touch what was mine, to touch my wife and learn he will.