Page 26 of Call You Mine

“Sense!?” he exclaims, losing his composure for just a split second before he’s back in control. “Oh, trust me, Princess, nothing about this makes fucking sense.”

In the next second he heads over to the end of the room, grabbing a bottle of liquor from behind the bar, not bothering to grab a glass from the counter. He twists it open, chugging the amber liquor straight from the bottle.

Walking over to join him, I reach out for the bottle and take it, taking a swig of it myself. The liquor burns down mythroat but I swallow it down, needing more liquid courage to go through with this next part of my idiotic plan.

A plan I just thought of right now and am determined to execute.

I lean back against the bar, my eyes drifting around the room and taking in the sleek modern decor of the pool house. It’s quite beautiful as is the rest of the newly built Silver Estate. When Stella’s uncle Stephan was arrested for kidnapping her—and submitting her to years of endless abuse when they entrusted him with her safety as her guardian after her parents’ death—her cousin Sebastian had the entire home demolished and rebuilt.

Now he and his fiancée Jade live here with their twins Onyx and Sapphire, and were adamant to host Stella’s wedding.

“My mother, she’s out of money,” I mutter, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. However, his posture tells me he’s listening as he leans back on the bar beside me. “She ran out of whatever she could take with her before all their assets were seized, and now she’s come to me for more.”

Damon grabs the bottle out of my hands and takes another drink but he doesn’t speak, instead silently urging me to continue.

“I won’t give her a cent of what is rightfully mine. Not after the hell they’ve all put me through.” I close my eyes, pushing back the tears that have been threatening to come out since I left New York. My response catches his attention and his gaze turns toward me only I’m not strong enough to meet his eyes.

I’ve been nothing but vulnerable in front of him since the moment I showed up at his doorstep. Any longer and he’ll see right through my lies, discovering every dark secret I’ve been hiding. I can’t let that happen.

I keep my gaze on the ring I wear on my middle finger, swirling the diamond band around. “But I also won’t give into her schemes. Willa wants me to find an old, rich husband thatcan financially give her what she needs, but I won’t allow her to manipulate me anymore.”

“What does this have to do with me, Wyn?” Damon mutters, but deep down I think he knows the answer.

I swallow my pride, determined to see this plan I’ve concocted in my mind through. “You’re the only one who can help me with this, Damon. What I’m trying to say is… I'm in need of your services.”

The moment the words leave my lips his body goes completely stiff and I almost regret having said it out loud.What was I thinking?

I’d heard rumors circulating amongst the women in my society before I left town, first hand by my mother’s posh group ofReal Housewifefrenemies. They spoke of a young man, hotter than any guy they’d ever seen, who went by the name of Draco. He’d recently joined the elite escort service they often used for private events and parties they attended. But it wasn’t until the week before I left I realized the rumors were true.

I showed up to my friend Kinsley’s graduation party, and my mother’s best friend Clarissa O’Neal—who was married to Kinsley’s dad—was sharing explicit photos of her liaisons with the illustrious Draco.

I caught sight of the man in the photo and there was no denying it was Damon, dressed in nothing but black leather pants, his face covered by one of those Phantom of the Opera half masks. But I recognized the tattoos covering his body, I recognized his body all too well.

And I couldn’t mistake the predatory look in his illustrious green eyes.

The one similar to the way he’s staring at me now.

Damon’s scowl deepens, his hand moving to grip my chin as he turns my face toward his. Like a child about to be scolded, he holds my chin in place. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and force myself to meet his daunting gaze head on. There they are again, feral eyes looking deep into mine searching for an explanation. Searching for a reason, answers he seeks as to what I’m up to. Answers he won’t find.

I stand up straighter and inhale a sharp breath willing myself to have courage. I won’t back down until I get him to agree. “Are you really going to make me say it, Damon?”

A dark and frankly disturbing smirk appears on his lips, thick, dark eyebrows furrowing in between his forehead as a pair of green eyes glower at me in disdain. “Spell it out for me Servite, because I have no fucking clue what you’re trying to imply.”

There’s a sharp bite in his voice as he spits out my last name like it is fucking poison. I roll my eyes in response, mustering the courage to just outright say what I want. I’ve never been this indecisive, but there's something about him that gets me so unnerved. I’m sick of it, so fucking tired of feeling so goddamn weak when I’m near him.

“I want to hire you, Damon Drake,” I blurt out, but his face remains stoic. “I want to hire you not only as my date, but I need you to be my fake boyfriend.” Damon’s face remains expressionless, like what I’ve just said has not affected him whatsoever. Maybe it’s a mask of indifference used to hide his genuine reaction, regardless, I need him to agree. “Please, I need your help.”

To sayDamon was pissed is like saying the sky is blue, the sun is hot, and the ocean is endless. A fact, obvious to anyone who can see it, yet the reality of it is much graver.

Damon Drake was disappointed in me—appalled I’d stooped so low and asked that of him.

Though, what truly threw me for a loop was the shock that was etched into the outer creases of his eyes. It took a lot of courage for me to come out and flat out say it, but his reaction made little sense.

Surely if this was something he was used to doing, I didn’t understand why was it so shocking I’d dare to request to hire him? His profession, if you could call it that, was no longer a secret. I’d found out, and his reaction only proved my suspicions were true.

Damon was a male escort, and although I didn’t know exactly what that title entailed, I knew he took money in exchange for the pleasure of his company, among other things.

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