Page 50 of Scorned Queen

“Kill or be killed,” Savage replies dryly.“I don’t believe for a minute you’re operating on fear or threats.Anyone of our caliber welcomes another one of us to come at them.I damn sure do.Why do you think I’m here right now?”My cellphone buzzes with a text and Savage says, “You’ll want to read that message, Damion” to me, obviously wearing an earbud or mic, and already in the know.

Curiosity that matches mine sparks in Caleb’s eyes and I remove my phone from my pocket and read the message from Blake:Caleb has a daughter.She’s two.He met her mother, Sara, while she worked for your father, and he shipped her off to an island in Hawaii where she changed her name.They don’t speak.Word is that she found out what he does for a living, really does, and wanted nothing to do with him.I’d say he’s too cold to care, but he keeps tabs on them.He paid to move her and change her name.Those actions say you will know what he wants no one to know.Show him this photo.It was taken today.

A photo of a pretty little brunette girl and a mother fill my screen.

Of course, there’s a moral question to what I’ve been offered for personal use, but I won’t kill his daughter and neither will Walker Security.He’ll know this.Just as I know hewillkill Alana.I use the gift I’ve been given in the only way it works in this situation and set the phone in front of Caleb.“Does my father know about them?”

Caleb eyes the phone, heavy seconds ticking by, his expression unreadable but there is a pulse to his energy, a darkening of his mood.When his eyes meet mine, he says, “This changes nothing.He’s already set actions in motion.”

“There’s a way to stop this,” I say, and tap the photo, reminding him what’s at stake.“If you think I won’t tell him, you’re wrong.Alana is a game changer for me.Telling him pits you against him and links your survival, your daughter’s survival, and Alana’s survival together.”

His eyes glint.“It also pits you against me.And if you think we have some bond that means I won’t kill you myself for no reason other than you pissed me off, you’re wrong.”

“I feel we’ve forgotten I’m here,” Savage interjects.“And as I hear all that you are saying Caleb, you’re just lighting me up inside with excitement.I get to kill you.”He rubs his hands together.“Let’s do it.”

“That wedding ring says you have a reason to stay the fuck out of this,” Caleb snaps at him.

“That wedding ring says I’m not even a little fucking scared of you.It also says I don’t think you’ll be around long enough to matter.”He leans forward.“And maybe, just maybe, my wife is a dude as big and bad as me.”

Caleb just stares at him, his attention slowly sliding to me.“Your father’s smarter than you seem to ever give him credit for being.He knew you’d come to me.He made sure I’d deliver the messages he planned.It’s your move, man.”He stands up and starts walking.

Chapter forty-one

Alana

SomepeoplemightthinkI should call Damion over and over and beg him to come home for fear he will do something rash.But I know that man and all I will do is drive home my fear over our situation, and my fear is exactly what he wants to end.It may actually push him to do more, to act harsher.

So I resist and it’s not an easy task.

I spend the first two hours Damion is gone trying to busy myself.

I organize my things, walk the apartment, search cabinets to get the lay of the land, and finally take the long bubble bath I wouldn’t be able to back at my apartment and do so for me and him.It will please him to know I did something I love that I could only do because I’m now living here.When I’m thoroughly spiced up with the smell of bubbles, I dry off, and dress in a silk gown and robe.At this point, I have no choice but to cave to the grumbles of my belly.Entering the kitchen, I turn on the radio that’s built into the wall.Once Luke Combs is attempting to fill my mind with his lyrics, not worry, I hunt down food.I end up sitting on a barstool at the gorgeous granite counter to eat a small bowl of Rice Krispies, which Damion apparently still loves, since he has three boxes.He used to eat them every morning back in Jersey.Well except for the mornings I made him pancakes.I limit myself to my one serving of cereal, still holding out for Damion so we can eat a real meal together, but with each passing moment, my unease scratches a little harder in my mind, and the music works against me, singing about love and breakups, and honky tonk hookups.Damion’s in a bad headspace, I think, and his first reaction is always to walk away from me.He never stays.He never brings me into the solution.I’m just hoping it’s nothing but a bad habit.

The problem is, bad habits are hard to break.

My bowl is empty, and I’m on my feet, when my cellphone rings I snatch it up anxiously from the island to find Lana’s number on caller ID.I set my bowl in the sink and answer.“Do I really want to know what this is about?”

“Probably not.When you and Dierk talked downstairs in front of the building, the press snapped photos.”

At this point I’m at the window and I sink down in the chair where I’d found Damion earlier and press my hand to my face.“Tell me no.”

“Well, I’d say I wish I could, but it’s going to deliver scorching ratings.”

I open my mouth to object when she adds, “But I don’t want to screw things up with you and Damion, for somewhat personal reasons.You don’t think you two will be a problem for the show.I’m not convinced.I don’t want him upset.”

“But I don’t matter?”

“You know the difference.Google the stories.They’re everywhere.They’ll be even broader by morning.You better warn your man.”

“Right.Thank you.”

We disconnect and I don’t google to see the story myself.I just can’t right now.I pour some of the whiskey into Damion’s glass, the act of sharing, comforting in some undecipherable way.After a sip burns my throat and warms my chest, I decide I have to look at what is being said before Damion does.I down the remainder of the whiskey I’ve poured, and the burn has me panting.A head rush follows but I doubt I’ll regret my decision considering what I’m about to do.I google my name and there I am, talking with Dierk, and the headline reads:Dierk or Damion?Who Will Win the Heart of the Queen of Real Estate and TV Ratings?I refill my glass and a text buzzes on my phone from Dierk of all people:Should we tell them you turned me down?

Sorry, I type in reply.I don’t know why I’ve become such tabloid fodder.

You should pay me back by letting me take you to coffee.

I grit my teeth.You know I’m with Damion.

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