Chapter 60 *
Scarlett’s POV
"You know what's crazy?" Icarus continued. "I actually saw him once. At an Iron Circle meeting."
"And?"
"Dude's ridiculously good-looking. Like stupidly handsome. Perfect build. Intense presence."
My ears got hotter.
"Your point?"
"Just saying. With looks like that?" He smirked. "Guy probably has an insane sex drive."
My face flushed.
"You're disgusting."
"What? I'm just making observations!"
"Make different observations."
Icarus laughed. "You're so uptight sometimes."
I was about to respond when I heard it.
The door handle turning.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
The door opened.
Damon walked in.
Oh shit.
I whipped my hand behind my back. Tried to hide the phone.
Stood up awkwardly. Too fast.
"Damon! You're home early!"
He looked at me. His expression was neutral. But his eyes were sharp.
"Early?"
He glanced at his watch.
"It's six-thirty."
Right. Normal people get home around six.
I smiled. Tried to look casual.
"Right. Of course. I just... lost track of time."
He didn't respond. Just walked over to the window.
Grabbed the curtain.
Pulled it open in one smooth motion.
"Why were the curtains closed?"
"I... was taking a nap."
His eyes flicked to my fully-dressed state. My shoes still on.
Yeah. That lie didn't work.
Then Icarus's voice came through the phone. Crystal clear.
"Is that your husband? Let me see him!"
Damon's head turned toward the sound.
His eyes found me. Then found my hand behind my back.
"We've known each other for years!" Icarus continued. Completely oblivious to the disaster he was causing. "We grew up together!"
Oh my God. Shut up.
"We used to sleep together. Eat together. Do everything together."
ICARUS. STOP TALKING.
"Why are you hiding him from me? I've earned the right to see your husband!"
Damon's expression changed.
His eyes went cold. He walked toward me.
I backed up. Still clutching the phone.
"Damon, it's not—"
He reached out. Fast.
Plucked the phone from my hand before I could react.
I watched in horror as he stared at the device.
His eyebrows went up slightly.
The phone looked like absolute garbage. Cheap plastic casing. Scratched screen. The kind you buy at a gas station for twenty bucks.
In reality? This thing cost more than a luxury car.
It was military-grade tech disguised as trash. Explosion-proof. Fireproof. Solar backup. Satellite connection. Could double as a remote detonator if needed.
The ugly exterior was intentional. Nobody steals a phone that looks this shitty.
Damon turned it over in his hand.
"Where did you get this?"
"I bought it."
He looked at me. Then back at the phone.
"Why?"
"I... needed a backup phone?"
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Scarlett." His voice was gentle. "If you need a new phone, just tell me. What kind do you like? iPhone? Samsung? Any color preference?"
Oh.
Oh no.
He thought I couldn't afford a decent phone.
"No, I have a phone." I pulled out my regular smartphone from my pocket. "See? This is my normal one."
He stared at both phones.
"Then why do you have this?" He held up the burner.
I scrambled for an explanation.
"My friend from Montana is... really into gossip."
Damon's expression didn't change.
"He's nosy. Constantly asking questions. Wanted to video chat so he could see what you looked like."
I gestured at the burner phone.
"So I used this old one. That way he couldn't see any details about our house or anything."
Damon looked at the phone. The call had already disconnected.
He tried to unlock it.
The screen stayed black. Biometric security locked.
He couldn't get in without my fingerprint or retinal scan.
Thank God.
"He needs to get a life," I continued. Rambling now. "All he does is gossip about everyone. It's exhausting."
Damon set the phone down on the desk.
His expression had softened slightly.
"He's got that much time to gossip?" Damon's mouth curved. Just barely. "Tell him to send me his resume. We're always looking for people at the factories."
"God, no." I shook my head. "He'd probably try to unionize your entire workforce within a week. The guy's a professional troublemaker."
I rolled my eyes.
"He's been 'finding himself' in Montana for the past decade. Let him keep finding. Some people are allergic to real work."
Damon almost smiled.
Then his expression changed again.
Became serious.
He stepped closer. His eyes locked onto mine.
"Why didn't you tell me about Rocco?"
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
"Rocco." His voice was quiet. Controlled. "Why didn't you tell me he was bothering you?"
Shit.