Page 53 of Claim

The way heat flared in his irises, I wasn’t sure whether I should run or not.

“That depends on your answer to this question.”

“And that is?”

“Why did you call me Sophia?”

“I have no damn idea.” I shook my head. “No, that’s not true. I trust you, and I feel safe with you. So without thinking, I dialed you and not Lucian.”

He gestured to the sofa. “I want you to sit down and tell me everything that happened tonight and all that led up to it.”

I nodded, not knowing where to start. I’d never shared any of this with anyone. Could I go there? Could I relive the memories and reasons why I hated Keith so damn much?

I lifted my gaze and stared into Damon’s green ones. He watched me patiently as if he sensed I needed to gather my thoughts.

With a deep breath, I began, “My unwanted career as a tabloid headliner started all because of a lie created by Keith Randolph.”

I paused, waiting for a reaction, but he gave me none, so I continued.

“From childhood, I’d never fit the mold of a perfect Morelli daughter. Nothing anyone said nor the various types of discipline thrown my way could make me conform to the rules set out for me.”

“What do you mean discipline?”

I smirked. “Didn’t Lucian tell you about Bryant Morelli’s forms of discipline? Once he and Leo moved out, the remaining troublemaker in the house faced many challenges.”

Anger washed over Damon’s face. “Your mother didn’t protect you?”

“She couldn’t even protect herself. Besides, her place in society mattered more than finding ways to shelter her children from her husband’s wrath.” I shook my head. “That isn’t the story I want to tell tonight.”

“Okay. How does your past tie to tonight.”

“Around the time I turned eighteen, a designer who’d made a few custom gowns for my family asked if I’d walk in his runway show. Immediately, my parents refused, saying modeling wasn’t something a girl from polite society picked as a career.”

“Let me guess, you went behind their backs and accepted.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “It was childish, I know, but it was also my fuck you to my parents for trying to control every aspect of my life. I hadn’t expected it to lead to an agency deal and multiple shoots.”

I tucked a stray hair behind my ear and curled my feet underneath me on the sofa. “Then, not six months later, I was invited to walk the runway for an up-and-coming designer who thought I was the perfect shape for his creations. My agent said it was a great opportunity for me and that he planned to create a piece with me in mind. I was his new muse or some bullshit.”

“Let me guess, Randolph.”

Instead of confirming, I kept talking, “He had a reputation for dating his muses and assumed I’d jump at the chance. During a fitting, he asked me out, but I told him I didn’t have time to date with my schedule. He seemed fine with it, and I never thought about it. I should have known better. An hour after I walked his show, he locked me in a back dressing room.”

Closing my eyes, I dropped my head. In the next second, Damon tucked me against his chest with his arms wrapped around me tight.

“If I hadn’t used the self-defense moves Lucian forced me to learn to get away, he would have done so much more to me. That very night, he retaliated by having pictures taken of me leaving a building where he’d orchestrated a drug-filled celebrity party. All I’d done was spend the night at a friend’s place, crying my eyes out and feeling so helpless.”

“Okay. Now I need you to tell me how your assault connects to tonight.”

“He continued to corner other girls after me. Recently, I found one of his victims. No girl should ever feel that way. No girl should ever have her choices taken from her. No girl should ever feel so vulnerable. He threatened her with his power, money, and influence if she told a soul. He’d done the same thing to me. In the end, he ruined my reputation to get my compliance.”

I finally explained what I did this evening in Keith’s penthouse and the reasons why.

“So you destroyed his studio and featured pieces for his collection to make a point?”

“I wanted him to know that every time he touches someone, there is a price to pay.” Bile burned the back of my throat, having to relive the memories and recount the details of the past few years. “I hate that man. He was the catalyst for everything.”

A tear slipped down my cheek.

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