Chapter 32 Chapter 32
Hailey’s POV
The next morning, I woke up earlier than I’d expected, my body still adjusting to the unfamiliar bed and the weight of everything that had happened. The pregnancy, the danger, Sophia’s threats, all of it swirled in my mind before I’d even fully opened my eyes.
I got dressed carefully, struggling with my broken arm, and made my way downstairs to find Benita already awake and looking surprisingly refreshed considering everything we’d been through.
“Ready for school?” she asked with a brightness that felt forced but appreciated.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I muttered.
We headed to the dining room for breakfast, and I was surprised to find Damien already there, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, looking like he’d been awake for hours. A newspaper sat beside his plate, and a cup of black coffee steamed in front of him.
“Good morning,” he said, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that made my stomach flip.
“Morning,” I replied, sliding into a chair across from him.
Benita sat beside me, and within moments, staff brought out breakfast, eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and coffee that smelled divine.
We ate in relative silence for a few minutes before Damien spoke again.
“There’s going to be a small gathering here tonight,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes watching my reaction carefully. “I’d like you to attend.”
I nearly choked on my orange juice. “What? No, I can’t, I have homework and…”
“It’s important,” he interrupted smoothly. “These are people who need to see that you’re under my protection. It sends a message.”
“A message to who?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“To everyone who needs to know,” he said, his gaze unwavering.
I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him I wasn’t some trophy to parade around at his business gatherings, but the intensity in his stare made the words die in my throat. This wasn’t a request. This was an order disguised as an invitation.
“Fine,” I said quietly, looking down at my plate.
“Good,” he said, and I could hear the satisfaction in his voice.
Breakfast finished quickly after that, and Benita and I rushed to get ready for class. As we headed toward the door, I noticed something different.
There were more men than usual in the foyer. Large men in dark suits with earpieces, watching us with professional detachment.
“What’s going on?” I asked, turning to Damien who had followed us to the door.
“Your security detail,” he said simply. “They’ll accompany you and Benita to campus and back.”
“Damien, no,” I protested. “We talked about this. I don’t want everyone at school knowing…”
“They won’t know anything,” he interrupted. “The guards will keep their distance.”
I looked at the men, then back at Damien, and realized arguing was pointless. He’d already made up his mind.
“Fine,” I said again, hating how often that word was becoming my default response.
Marco stepped forward from the group, and Benita’s face lit up immediately.
“Marco’s with us?” she asked, her earlier anxiety melting away.
“He’s your personal guard,” Damien confirmed. “He won’t leave your side.”
Benita looked thrilled. I felt suffocated.
The drive to campus was surreal. We rode in a sleek black SUV with tinted windows, Marco driving while two other guards followed in a second vehicle. At school, students stared as we pulled up, their eyes wide with curiosity and speculation.
I hated it. Hated the attention, the whispers, the way people looked at us like we were suddenly different, dangerous even.
Benita, on the other hand, seemed to be loving every second of it. She walked with her head high, Marco a respectful few steps behind her, and I could see the jealousy and curiosity in other students’ eyes.
Class was torture. I couldn’t concentrate on anything the professor was saying. My mind kept drifting to the baby growing inside me, to Damien and his world of violence, to Sophia’s threats, to the Morellis who wanted me dead.
When the professor called on me to answer a question, I completely blanked.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?” I asked, my face flushing with embarrassment.
He did, but I still didn’t know the answer. The words on the board might as well have been in another language for all the sense they made to me.
“Miss Hailey, are you feeling alright?” the professor asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired.”
He didn’t look convinced but moved on to another student.
The rest of the day passed in a similar blur. By the time classes ended, I was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained in a way that had nothing to do with my broken arm.
The guards drove us back to Damien’s penthouse, and I immediately went to my room, collapsing onto the bed with relief. I just needed a few hours to rest, to clear my head before this gathering tonight that I was dreading.
I must have dozed off because when I woke up, the sun had shifted lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. I checked my phone and realized I only had a couple of hours before the gathering started.
With a groan, I forced myself up and started getting ready. I’d been provided with a dress, elegant and expensive, clearly chosen by someone with impeccable taste. It fit perfectly despite my cast, and I wondered briefly if Damien had someone estimate my size or if he’d just guessed.
I was doing my hair one-handed, which was proving nearly impossible, when I heard it.
A crackling sound. Like static or breaking glass.
It came from somewhere down the hallway, sharp and out of place in the quiet penthouse.
My heart started racing immediately. I set down the hairbrush and moved toward my door, opening it carefully and peering out into the hallway.
Nothing looked unusual. The hallway was empty, lit by the soft glow of recessed lighting.
But then I heard the sound again.
Against every instinct telling me to stay in my room and call for help, I stepped out into the hallway and followed the sound.
It led me down a corridor I hadn’t explored before, past several closed doors, until I reached one that was slightly ajar.
Through the crack, I could see movement.
I pushed the door open slowly, my heart hammering in my chest.
Kai stood in the middle of what looked like a study, his back to me, a gun raised and pointed directly at an elderly man who was on his knees, hands tied behind his back, blood trickling from a cut above his eye.
The old man was pleading, his voice hoarse and desperate, speaking in rapid Spanish I couldn’t understand.
Kai’s finger was on the trigger.
“No,” I gasped, the sound escaping before I could stop it.
Kai’s head whipped around, his eyes widening when he saw me.
For a split second, we just stared at each other.
Then my survival instincts kicked in, and I ran.
“Wait!” Kai shouted behind me. “Miss Hailey, stop!”
But I didn’t stop. I ran down the hallway, my broken arm bouncing painfully against my side, Kai’s footsteps pounding behind me.