"Sir, another letter has come in."
Damien turned, only half-listening to the man who'd just walked in, speaking to Douglas. Sierra was late. Damien watched as her father nervously looked toward the door, then the clock. Damien didn't miss anything, and he could see the fury brewing in her father's eyes. It seemed he didn't like his daughter taking her sweet time getting there.
Damien didn't like waiting on the girl, either, but his irritation was pushed down as he watched Douglas grow more upset.
Women were notoriously late, and Damien didn't see a reason for the rage behind Douglas's eyes.
Interesting, he thought.
"What are you talking about?" Douglas snapped at his head of security. The guy was huge and Damien had no doubt he could drop Douglas in the blink of the eye. He must be very loyal to take that kind of tone from the weak little man.
"Another threat against your daughter, sir," the man said, not showing the slightest reaction to the criticism in his boss's voice.
Suddenly, Douglas became nervous, his eyes darting toward Damien before jerking back to his security man. It seemed Douglas didn't want Damien to know about the letter, which meant that Damien really wanted to know. He hadn't been interested, in the least, until Douglas wanted to keep it from him.
"Just put it away. I'll look later," Douglas snapped.
"Wait," Damien interrupted, both men's eyes turning in his direction as he strode over to them. "I want to see."
"It's got nothing to do with you," Douglas said, his face flushing.
"Considering it's a threat against my newest employee, I'd say it has a lot to do with me," Damien countered, not backing down.
The security man looked from his boss to Damien, and then back again. He obviously didn't know what to do. He didn't want to defy his boss, but Damien's confident demeanor was hard to ignore.
"Whatever!" Douglas snapped, turning away with a wave of his hand.
The obviously relieved security man handed the envelope to Damien before stepping back. Damien walked to the couch and sat down, pulling out the contents of the envelope. His stomach dropped at what he saw.
"How long?"
"How long, what?" Douglas snapped.
"How long have these been coming in?" Damien growled, his patience gone.
"Oh, who knows? Months? Years? I've lost count," he said while dismissively waving his hand again, as if it didn't matter in the least.
"Are you telling me that your daughter has been getting death threats, and you don't think that's worthy of your attention?" Damien asked, his voice deceptively soft, not alerting the man to the danger he was in.
"You know how it is when you're wealthy – people send all kinds of crap. It doesn't mean anything," Douglas replied, brushing the matter under the rug.
Damien looked again at the picture, a close up shot of Sierra. There were holes poked through the photo and fake blood smeared on the image with a message that read, "just a picture of what you'll look like when I'm finished with you."
"This isn't something to be taken lightly. She should have twenty-four hour supervision on her," Damien snapped.
"Well, it looks like you'll be handling that, now, doesn't it?" Douglas snapped back. The two men glared at each other for several strained moments.
"Apparently in the nick of time, too," Damien goaded, knowing his words would upset Douglas.
"I could call this whole thing off…" Douglas threatened, to which Damien just smiled. He knew a false threat when he heard one. Douglas was the one who'd called him. Damien really had nothing to lose, other than curiosity and some strange need to solve the puzzle of Sierra Monroe.
"Go ahead." Damien had zero concerns about calling the man's bluff.
Douglas glared at him for a moment longer, before he mumbled something and then resumed pacing across the room, once again looking to the door.
Damien returned to the sofa and sat quietly, his eyes blank as he thought about the situation. Maybe this deal was all more than he wanted to get involved in. Was one woman worth all the trouble? He had an agenda to follow through on, a tightly controlled schedule to meet. Having Sierra around would break the ice with her best friend, Brianne, which in turn would make it easier for him to get closer to Joseph and George Anderson, the men who'd killed his father, Neilson, when Damien was only a baby, but he could do that on his own.
At the thought of the men who'd destroyed his life before he'd even said his first words, rage shot through him. Any time he thought of those men, he remembered why he was so dead set on revenge. He'd lost the opportunity of a normal life, with two loving parents, because they'd stripped his father of his pride, and robbed his mother of every dime.
He'd come too far to change plans now. He was so close to exacting his retribution, and he couldn't start feeling sorry for Sierra. His father deserved retribution for what those lying thieves had done. Sierra was just another tool – and a minor curiosity – nothing more.
∞∞∞
Sierra stood outside her father's study and took a few steadying breaths. She was nervous and didn't want to open the door. She still had no clue why her dad wanted to see her, but his formal summons were never good.
With fear practically dripping from her, she slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside the dreadful room. So many horrible events had happened in there. It was the first place he'd backhanded her, causing her to fall to the floor and nearly pass out. She'd worn a bruise on her cheek for over a week.
He'd kept her from school, telling them she'd come down with a nasty flu and he'd make sure homework was done before she came back. He'd threatened even worse punishment if she were to ever tell anyone about the abuse.
She feared him – hated him – and yet, oddly, still loved him. She wanted to get away, but she didn't want terrible things to befall upon him. The odd emotions caused such confusion inside her.
She stepped through the doors, immediately feeling the heavy tension lingering in the room. Her heart pounded as she feared what that would mean for her. She was safe as long as people were in the room, but the second he sent them away…
Sierra felt the shiver from the top of her spine to the bottom of her toes. With stress mounted so high, he'd surely be taking out his aggression on her later. She had to fight back the tears threatening to fall in trepidation of her night ahead.
She didn't even flinch anymore when he raised his hand. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop it, so she tried to let her mind take her somewhere else. Sometimes the beatings weren't as bad as others.
As she glanced around at the familiar faces of her father's employees, her eyes stopped at the couch. She could see the profile of a man she didn't recognize. Maybe he was new, and not working out, and that's why the room seemed so suffocating.
Her father's security detail, consisting of three men in suits, kept glancing nervously at the stranger, which was even more odd. The guy oozed confidence as he sat back in what seemed a casual way.
From the cut of his expensive suit, to the custom made loafers on his feet, even to how his legs were crossed, he seemed like a man not to be messed with. Maybe her father had done a lot of business with him, and that's why he seemed to be the one in charge.
She hadn't even seen his face yet, and still, his intimidation penetrated her skin in an unwelcomed intrusion.
Curiosity began eating at her almost instantly as the need to see his face, to know who he was. She felt somehow like he was her enemy, which made no sense whatsoever. She didn't know him, so how could he be a threat? Another shudder passed through her. Maybe she should listen to her instincts and just run as fast as she could.
Her father would never allow her to do that.
Sierra took a few more steps into the room, finally gaining the notice of the other occupants. She saw the slight movement in the stranger's shoulders as he shifted his weight. Slowly rising to his feet, his every gesture seemingly planned – coordinated.
Though his movement seemed to convey that he wasn't in a hurry, somehow she knew he did nothing without thinking it through, planning ahead with precise calculation.
He turned around and before she could divert her eyes, their gazes locked together. From within her own head, she commanded herself to turn around, dismiss him with nothing more than a look, but she couldn't seem to break the connection.
His gaze held her rooted to the spot, locked tightly to his, his expression almost a command for her to bend to his will.
Nonsense! This is nonsense, her brain was shouting, trying to take control of her frozen limbs.
His lips turned up the slightest fraction of an inch, as he sent a cold, arrogant stare her way. Finally, the egotistical look managed to break her from his spell. While her stomach turned over, and her skin felt like it was on fire, she shifted, glancing at her father, who looked slightly ill.
"Why did you need me, Father? It looks like you're busy," she asked, growing angrier at the breathless weakness in her voice.
Her dad gazed at her for a moment with an odd look in his eyes, one she'd never seen before, almost a look of regret mixed with anger. He said nothing for several seconds, and her annoyance over the spell the stranger had seemed to cast, faded as fear quickly claimed the forefront of her emotions.
Her glance quickly moved from her father, returning to the stranger, and he gazed back at her with a mixture of self-conceit, and something she couldn't identify. His lips contained a smirk that seemed to say he owned the world and could do whatever he pleased. His green eyes held a lifetime worth of knowledge in their depths, and his attitude was that of a man twice his age. She really wanted to know who he was and why he was staring at her as if she were his property to do with as he pleased.
She ripped her gaze back from his mesmerizing eyes to look around the room. None of the other men would meet her gaze. Again, her stare focused back on her dad.
"Take a seat, Sierra," her father eventually commanded, his gaze turning from her. For the first time she could ever remember, he seemed unable to meet her eyes. What was going on?
"But…"
"Sit!" he commanded, his tone that of a man barely holding on to the edge of control. She knew better than to defy him. She quickly sat on the couch the stranger had just vacated. Her legs wouldn't have held her up much longer, anyway.
Before she had a chance to say anything further, she felt movement beside her. She turned her head to stare into the dangerous eyes of the dark haired stranger. Her breath was snatched from her lungs. He was sitting far too close to be appropriate.
She didn't know how close to the mark she truly was in fearing him.