Chapter 36 Chapter 36
Hailey’s POV
The party dragged on for what felt like an eternity, each minute stretching longer than the last as I sat alone in the guest room I’d retreated to, trying to calm my racing heart and stop my hands from shaking.
When I’d finally gathered the courage to return to the gathering, I’d stayed on the periphery, avoiding eye contact, making myself as invisible as possible. But I could still feel the stares, still hear the whispered conversations that stopped whenever I got too close.
Finally, mercifully, people began to leave. The penthouse slowly emptied until only staff remained, quietly cleaning up the remnants of the evening.
I was about to retreat back to my room when footsteps approached, and I looked up to see Damien walking toward me. He’d loosened his tie, and there were lines of exhaustion around his eyes, but his gaze was focused entirely on me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been all evening.
“Honestly?” I said, wrapping my good arm around myself. “I hated it. Every second of it.”
He nodded slowly, like he’d expected that answer. “What did you hate most?”
“The guns,” I said quietly, thinking of the bulges I’d noticed under several jackets, the casual way people had worn weapons to what was supposed to be a social gathering.
“Those guns are for protection,” Damien said, stepping closer. “This is my life, Hailey. Our life now. The sooner you accept that…”
“Accept that my baby will grow up surrounded by violence?” I interrupted, my voice rising slightly. “That they’ll never have a normal childhood, never feel safe, never know what it’s like to live without armed guards following them everywhere?”
“They’ll be protected,” Damien said firmly. “Always. Nothing will happen to them.”
“But what kind of life is that?” I asked, tears burning behind my eyes. “Growing up knowing your father runs a criminal empire? Knowing that people want to kill you just because of your last name?”
“A life where they’re alive,” Damien said, his voice hard now. “Which is better than the alternative. You don’t have to be afraid, Hailey. I won’t let anything happen to you or our child.”
“I’m not afraid for me anymore,” I said quietly, my hand moving instinctively to my stomach. “I’m afraid for them. For the life they’re going to have.”
Damien stared at me for a long moment, something complicated passing across his face. Then he took a step back.
“Get some rest,” he said, his tone dismissive. “We can talk about this later.”
“Damien…”
“Please,” he said, and there was an edge to his voice now. “Just… leave it for now.”
I watched him walk away, his shoulders tense, and part of me wanted to call him back, to make him understand. But I was too exhausted, too overwhelmed, too emotionally drained to fight anymore.
So I went to my room and closed the door.
Sleep didn’t come easily.
I lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing through everything that had happened. The party. The announcement. The way people had looked at me like I was something to be assessed and categorized.
And beneath it all, the constant, gnawing fear about what kind of future I was bringing my child into.
I thought about my own childhood, about growing up after my father died.
I woke to the sound of raised voices.
For a moment, I lay there disoriented, trying to place where the noise was coming from. Then I realized it was coming from downstairs, echoing up through the penthouse.
Curiosity and concern drove me out of bed. I pulled on a robe over my pajamas, being careful with my cast, and made my way out of the room.
The voices got louder as I descended the stairs, and I could make out two distinct tones, Damien’s deep voice, and another one, feminine, sharp and commanding.
When I reached the main level, I froze.
A woman stood in the entrance hall, and even from behind I could tell she was someone important. She was elegantly dressed in a tailored suit, her silver-streaked dark hair pulled back in a perfect chignon. She carried herself with the kind of authority that came from decades of being obeyed without question.
Damien stood facing her, and I was shocked to see genuine surprise on his face, an emotion he rarely showed.
“Mother,” he said, his voice tight. “What are you doing here?”
Mother.
This was Isabella Alejandro?
I should have turned around right then, should have gone back upstairs and hidden until this confrontation was over. But my feet kept moving forward, drawn by some combination of curiosity and the need to not appear like a coward.
Isabella turned at the sound of my footsteps, and I got my first good look at her.
She was striking, with sharp cheekbones and dark eyes that missed nothing. She had to be in her sixties, but she looked ageless, timeless in the way that only the very wealthy and very powerful could.
And right now, those dark eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made me want to shrink back.
“Good morning,” I said, trying to sound polite and respectful as I approached. “You must be Mrs. Alejandro. I’m Hailey, it’s nice to….”
“Stop,” Isabella said, holding up one perfectly manicured hand.
I froze mid-step, my greeting dying on my lips.
She turned to Damien, her expression furious. “Is this the girl? The one you want to smear our family name with?”
The words hit like a slap, sharp and stinging.
“Mother,” Damien said, his voice low with warning. “That’s enough.”
“Enough?” Isabella repeated, her voice rising. “I leave the country and I come back to find you’ve not only taken up with some random college girl, but you’ve announced her as your partner to the entire organization?”
“Who told you?” Damien asked, his jaw tightening. “Who was the snitch that leaked this information to you in Italy?”