Chapter 109

Chapter 109
Eloise – First Person POV

I couldn’t stop replaying Jadeline’s voice in my head.

It wasn’t even the exact words she’d said, although those were bad enough, it was the way she’d said them. Smooth, almost velvety, but with that undercurrent of something sharper.. The smile she’d worn the whole time hadn’t reached her eyes, and the way she’d lingered on certain words… It was almost like she wanted me to catch something she wasn’t saying out loud.

By the time the sun dipped behind the high-rises that night, my stomach had been in knots for hours. The city lights below my apartment window flickered on one by one, blinking against the violet dusk. My phone sat on the coffee table like a silent accusation. I could’ve called Mike earlier, but I hadn’t. I hadn’t even told him about the meeting until he walked in and found me curled up on the couch, hair still damp from the shower, staring at the same spot on the wall.

“You look like you’ve been auditioning for a ghost movie,” he said, dropping his keys into the bowl by the door.

I tried to smile, but it came out lopsided. “Just tired.”

His eyes narrowed the way they do when he knows I’m lying. He didn’t press, though—Mike’s never been the type to pry. Instead, he set his jacket over the back of the armchair and crossed the room, sinking onto the couch beside me. His cologne wrapped around me before he even touched me.

“Talk to me, El.”

So I did.

The whole conversation with Jadeline spilled out of me, word for word. How she’d called out of nowhere. How she’d asked to meet. How she’d wasted no time telling me to drop all charges against Jennifer, because, apparently, sharing some DNA and being a sickle cell survivor suddenly erases a laundry list of betrayal.

Mike listened in that quiet, steady way of his, one arm slung along the back of the couch, his gaze fixed on my face. But when I told him about the way she’d said certain things, how it almost felt like she was hinting at something bigger, his jaw ticked.

“She’s playing you,” he said finally.

I exhaled. “I know. I just… it’s like she wants me to be scared of something, but I don’t even know what it is.”

“You’re not scared,” he countered, sliding his hand down to capture mine. “You’re annoyed. Which means you’re still in control.”

I shook my head. “I wish I believed that.”

“You can believe it,” he said. “Or I can make you.”

The corner of my mouth twitched despite myself. “Make me?”

He nodded, expression solemn but his eyes warm. “Yeah. I’ll start with… this.”

His thumb brushed over my knuckles, slow and rhythmic, and then he leaned in to press a kiss to my temple. The touch was so light it almost didn’t register, until it did, and I realized how badly I’d been holding myself together all day.

“Mike…”

“Hm?”

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“Obviously,” he said. “And I’m doing a great job. But, just to be safe…”

Before I could protest, he tilted my chin toward him and kissed me. Not urgently, just long enough for my thoughts to stop, for the tension in my shoulders to ease. His lips were warm and certain against mine, and when he pulled back, he kept his forehead pressed to mine like he didn’t want the connection to break.

“Better?” he murmured.

I nodded, because anything more than that might have cracked me wide open.

That night, he stayed. He didn’t ask; he just made himself comfortable, pulling me against his chest while we lay tangled in the sheets. His fingers traced lazy shapes on the back of my hand until my eyelids grew heavy, and the last thing I heard before sleep claimed me was his voice, low and sure, promising, “No one’s getting to you, El. Not Jadeline, not anyone.”

.

Morning came too quickly.

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the soft gray light spilling through the blinds, diffused by a thin veil of clouds outside. The second thing was Mike’s arm draped over my waist, solid and grounding. I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing at my back, the warmth of him keeping the early chill at bay.

For a second, I considered staying there. Letting the world wait. But the clock on my nightstand glared at 8:07 a.m., and reality snapped me back.

By the time I’d showered, dressed, and gathered my work bag, Mike was up, leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee in hand. He’d made one for me, too—black, just the way I like it.

“You okay to drive?” he asked, watching me over the rim of his mug.

I smirked. “You’re not my dad.”

“No, but I’m the guy who’s going to be pissed if you text me later saying you hit a lamppost because you were thinking about your evil step-aunt.”

“She’s my aunt,” I corrected. “And technically my stepmother.”

He made a face. “Even worse.”

I laughed under my breath, took a long sip of coffee, and grabbed my keys. “I’ll see you later.”

“Lunch?” he called as I headed for the door.

“Text me,” I said, pulling it shut behind me.

The building’s lobby was quiet, the hum of the air-conditioning and the faint scent of freshly polished marble filling the space. Outside, the morning air was damp, carrying the smell of wet asphalt and overlooking distant traffic. My heels clicked against the pavement as I crossed to where my car was parked along the curb.

I had just unlocked the door when a voice cut through the stillness.

“Eloise.”

Every muscle in my body went taut. I turned, and there he was.

Damon.

He looked exactly the same, and somehow worse. His hair was slicked back, but there was a slight greasiness to it, and the faint shadows under his eyes made him look like he hadn’t slept in days. He was wearing a dark jacket over a black shirt, but it hung on him differently than I remembered, like he’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, taking a step closer.

I shifted my keys in my hand, angling my body toward the driver’s seat. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“It’s about Jennifer.”

That stopped me—but only for a second.

“I don’t care what it’s about. Get out of my way.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking agitated. “You think I wanted to be involved in all that? You think I wanted to help her with Max’s kidney situation? She forced me, Eloise. She made me—”

I laughed, but it came out brittle. “Do you really think that works on me? Playing the victim?”

“I’m telling the truth!” His voice rose, and a couple walking their dog across the street glanced over. He lowered his tone, leaning in slightly. “You don’t know the kind of pressure she put me under. You don’t know what she’s capable of.”

“Oh, I know exactly what she’s capable of,” I said. “You forget—I’ve been on the receiving end. And you? You made your choices. You don’t get to rewrite history now because it’s convenient.”

His mouth tightened. “If you’d just listen—”

“No.” I yanked the car door open. “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and dump whatever guilt you’re carrying onto me. That’s not my problem.”

“Eloise—”

“Move,” I said, my tone flat.

For a long second, he just stood there, the morning light catching the tension in his jaw, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. Then, slowly, he stepped back.

I got into the car, shut the door, and locked it. He was still watching me as I started the engine, but I refused to look at him again. My hands were steady on the wheel as I pulled away from the curb, but my chest was tight, my pulse loud in my ears.

The whole drive to the office, his words clung to me like smoke.

She forced me… You don’t know what she’s capable of.

I told myself I didn’t believe him. And I didn’t—mostly. But the unease from last night, the one Jadeline had planted like a seed, was still there. And now, thanks to Damon, it has started to grow.