Page 22 of The Perfect Bargain

“Yes,” I respond, arching an eyebrow in surprise. “Better than ever, actually.” My tone is firm, underlining the solidity of my answer.

“You know you can always come to me if you’re running into any issues,” he offers, and as I raise an eyebrow in question, he hurries to clarify. “Financial issues, I mean.”

“Excuse me?” I can’t help the slight widen of my eyes, taken aback by his assumption.

“I just mean, with Robert’s schooling and all. I know it’s been a lot for you to handle by yourself,” he adds, his tone tinged with concern.

“We’re managing,” I assert, shifting my gaze away from his probing eyes to the dessert in front of me.

“Diana,” Damian’s voice softens, his hand stretching across the table towards mine. Instinctively, I pull back. “Listen, this might not be the time or the place, but I’m aware of the struggles you’ve been facing.”

“What are you talking about?” I counter, confusion knitting my brow as I look up at him.

“I know about the work you’ve been doing,” Damian says quietly, catching my silence as an opportunity to continue. “The things you’ve done to make ends meet.” At his words, my heart pounds, panic rising as the secrets of my double life threaten to unravel right here. I struggle to breathe, my throat constricted, feeling like oxygen has abandoned my lungs.

“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t come to me,” he adds, his tone gentle yet firm. “But I’m here now, for both of you. Come see me tomorrow, at my office or my home, wherever you’re more comfortable.”

I stammer, “I-I don’t need—”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he cuts in, leaving no room for protest.

Chapter Sixteen

Diana

Standing here, on the precipice of what feels like a monumental collapse, is the last place I imagined I’d find myself today. Well, perhaps that’s not entirely accurate. I knew I’d end up here; it was inevitable. But now that I’m standing at this door, every instinct is screaming at me to turn around and disappear into the anonymity I’ve so carefully maintained.

Reluctantly, I knock twice, my heart sinking with the realization that he’s undoubtedly there, waiting. My father-in-law, the man who has unwittingly become the architect of my unraveling. Here lies the fault line between the world I built with precision—a delicate balance of lies and necessity—and the stark reality that threatens to tear everything down, including the life Robert and I have tried so hard to sustain.

“Diana,” Damian says, his voice a low greeting as he swings the door open and hustles me inside with urgency. My gaze instinctively flicks across the living room, seeking out any signs of company. “Caroline’s out for the weekend,” he explains, catching the drift of my quick assessment.

The question burns too brightly, impossible to hold back. “Did you tell her?” The words tumble out, driven by a constant,nagging fear of my secrets spilling out further than they already have.

“Of course not,” he assures me, his tone firm as he locks the door. I follow the familiar path to the living room, sinking into the plush couch. “I’m glad you came,” he adds, his words wrapping the room in an added layer of gravity.

“You didn’t exactly leave me any options, Damian.” My voice is a mix of resignation and defensiveness. If I’d had my way, I’d have dodged this conversation indefinitely. “How did you even find out?” It baffles me—he shouldn’t have known anything. I’ve been meticulous, always so careful to keep my two lives distinctly separate to avoid precisely this scenario.

He sighs, a hint of discomfort flickering across his features. “Ava and I are acquaintances; she and I go way back. What I didn’t expect was to come across a photo of my daughter-in-law while flipping through her very private catalog.” His tone mixes surprise with a touch of betrayal, complicating the air between us.

My eyes widen involuntarily at the revelation and the implications of him perusing Ava’s catalog. That he was even looking suggests he was interested in booking someone—maybe even me. While it’s not my place to judge—after all, who am I to cast stones from my glass house?—the thought of my father-in-law seeking such services is more than a little jarring.

He interprets my stunned silence as an invitation to explain further. “Diana, I’m not here to pass judgment,” he begins, his voice calm and measured. “Clearly, if I discovered this, it’s because I was in the market for the same sort of… companionship. I would be hypocritical to condemn you for something I was also seeking. But, Robert is my son.”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice thick as I fight to keep the tears at bay. I take a deep, shuddering breath. “I never want him to find out, but things were so tight at home that there weredays we barely had enough to eat. I felt like I had no choice,” I admit, my voice cracking as I try to suppress a sob that’s clawing its way out.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Damian’s question is soft, probing gently.

“I couldn’t,” I respond quickly, the words tumbling out. “He would have dropped out of school, given up on everything he’s worked towards. You know how he is about his dreams.”

He nods slowly, understanding reflecting in his eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly what he would’ve done.” There’s a pause, heavy and filled with what-ifs. “Why didn’t you come to me?” His voice is low, a mix of hurt and genuine concern threading through his words.

“I couldn’t,” I exhale, the words barely a whisper as I bite my lower lip. “Robert would’ve been furious. He holds your opinion in such high regard that he wouldn’t have wanted to seem like he needed help.”

Damian’s response is immediate, his tone earnest. “It could have stayed just between us,” he suggests, and something about the simplicity of his words twists my stomach into knots. I’m trying to understand why. It’s not like they imply anything.

“Can this stay between us?” I plead, the fear palpable in my voice. I know in my heart that if Robert ever found out, he’d never look at me the same way again.

“Diana…” Damian begins, his voice heavy, and I brace myself for the worst.

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