Page 12 of Burned Dynasty: Part One

I growl low in my throat, frustration burning in my belly. He’s going to have to listen to me; that’s all there is to it. For the first time since arriving, I see beyond Damion and scan what is a cute little cottage with wood-beamed ceilings and a fireplace that is as grand as the one in the main house. It’s not a bad place to be holed up with the man I love, but there is too much on the line for that action to be appropriate.

Determined to get us moving and back home, I hunt down my swimsuit and cover-up, pull them into place, and then slide my feet into my sandals for extra measure. It’s not exactly what I would call dressed and in control, but it’s all I have right now. Put together the best I can be, I march into the kitchen to be greeted by an oversized island with fancy pans hanging from above, hanging low enough to obstruct my view.

I round the island and find Damion standing at a window on the other side of a table and chairs, his back to me, tension radiating off of him, almost as if he’s steeling himself for his next confrontation with me. Or perhaps just feeling as if he’s holding the world, and me, on his shoulders. And that feeling, that obligation I believe he feels in his mind, is where all the “end of us” feelings come from.

I join him, stepping to his side and taking in the view of the pool that would have allowed Damion to find me had I not found him first. It’s why Adam sent me to the pool, and I’m reminded that he seems to truly care what happens to us. We are not alone in our battle, and yet, Damion doesn’t seem to recognize this.

When he doesn’t speak or acknowledge me, I rotate to face him. “Damion, we have to talk.”

He turns to face me, his jaw set hard. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going to end this, and you’re going to stay here until it’s over. The end.”

“The end?” I ask incredulously. “Are you serious right now, Damion?” I don’t give him time to answer. “No. No, that is not how this goes. We end this together. We leave together. I’m not staying here.”

“You’re in danger, and you will stay here.”

“Yes. Danger. About that danger. Tell me about this threat against me.”

“My father won’t let what you did this morning go. He’ll lash out. He’ll hurt you.”

“So, there is no threat besides the perceived one in your mind?”

“I know my father,” he states firmly.

In other words, there’s no known threat, I think, but what I say is, “He can’t kill me right now. The attention would be too extreme, and you know it.”

“He can make it look like an accident.”

“Just like my father?” I challenge. “Don’t you think the timing would be damning?”

He catches my shoulders and drags me to him. “You’re staying here.”

“I’m not staying, no matter how many times you order me to do so. No. I need to be in front of the camera and keep the story I told this morning on people’s minds. And doing so has to make the board turn their backs on your father. They will vote you in as CEO.”

“And then he will come at you harder.”

“So, you have to kill him?”

“He’ll never stop coming for you, Alana. And me, too, for that matter.”

“Use Walker. Come up with a plan to put him behind bars. They just have to prove he killed my father.”

“He didn’t do it. He had someone else do it. He creates insulation.”

“You can’t tell me what I did this morning didn’t rattle him. A rattled, arrogant man will make mistakes, and you have Walker Security to maximize any exposure he creates for himself. But we have to keep the pressure on. I need to do a press conference. I need to be in his face. And I don’t think that can be you, Damion. The more press I get him, the less the board will want him at the helm.”

“And you think they’ll want me?”

“I think they already want you, but your father has them in a vise. That might just ease if he’s a disgrace in a very public way.” I step into him and wrap my arms around him, tilting my chin up to meet his stare. “You can’t kill him. They’ll think I did it.”

“Holy fuck, Alana. They won’t think—”

“No? Really? You don’t think not one single person will say that?” I don’t give him time to reply. “Let’s talk to Walker. Let’s come up with a plan together. If we go back, they can protect me. And you can, too.”

His eyes glint with a stubbornness that I watch soften and then fade. “After we eat the pizza,” he says, setting me away from him as he walks toward the stove.

“After the pizza we go back?”

He opens the stove door and glances over at me. “We talk to Walker. That’s all you’re getting from me right now.”

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