Lena's POV
I stared at Damien from across the sleek glass coffee table in his penthouse, feeling as if I had just stepped into the lair of a predator.
The room was silent, save for the faint hum of the city lights below and the distant ticking of a grandfather clock. Damien's piercing gaze locked onto mine, his expression cool and unreadable.
"Let's get one thing straight," I said, crossing my arms. "I'm not here to play games. You said you'd help me find Ethan. So talk."
Damien leaned back in his chair, his posture as effortless as it was imposing. "And I will. But only under certain conditions."
My jaw tightened. Of course, there were conditions. "What kind of conditions?"
"You follow my lead," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "No sneaking around. No asking questions you're not ready to hear the answers to. And most importantly, you do exactly as I say. No exceptions."
I narrowed my eyes. "You can't be serious."
"I'm always serious, Lena," he replied, his lips curving into a faint, humorless smile. "Especially when lives are on the line."
The weight of his words hung between us, suffocating the room. I couldn't shake the image of Ethan, somewhere out there, alone and in danger. If Damien was my best shot at finding him, I didn't have a choice.
"Fine," I said, my voice tight. "But if you think I'm going to sit here and blindly follow your orders like some obedient little soldier, you're delusional."
Damien's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you."
"Good. Now, where do we start?"
He studied me for a moment, as if weighing whether to trust me with whatever came next. Finally, he said, "First, we need to get you off their radar."
"Their radar?" I asked, frowning.
"The people who took Ethan," he said. "They're watching you, Lena. Every move you make, every question you ask—it's like waving a red flag in front of a bull. If they figure out how close you're getting, they won't hesitate to eliminate the threat."
I swallowed hard, trying not to let the fear show on my face. "And you think staying here with you is going to keep me safe?"
"For now," he said. "But it won't be enough if you don't follow my rules."
I shook my head, letting out a bitter laugh. "You're unbelievable. You act like you're doing me a favor, but you're just as much a part of this as they are, aren't you?"
Damien's expression darkened, the faint trace of amusement vanishing from his face. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Then enlighten me," I shot back. "You keep telling me to trust you, but you haven't given me a single reason why I should."
"Because I'm the only one who can keep you alive," he said, his voice low and lethal. "That's reason enough."
I wanted to argue, to push back against his arrogance, but the raw intensity in his eyes stopped me.
"Fine," I said, after a long pause. "I'll play by your rules. For now. But if I find out you're lying to me, Damien, I swear—"
"You'll what?" he interrupted, his tone almost amused again. "Throw me out of my own penthouse?"
I glared at him, biting back the retort on the tip of my tongue.
"Let's just get this over with," I muttered, sinking back into my chair.
Damien nodded, satisfied. "Good. Then we'll start tonight."
"Tonight?"
"You wanted answers," he said, rising to his feet with the grace of a predator. "I'm giving them to you. But you'll have to trust me when I say you won't like what you find."
Before I could respond, he turned and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
"This isn't just about Ethan, Lena," he said, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. "It's about something much bigger. Something you're a part of, whether you realize it or not."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demanded, standing up.
Damien turned to face me, his expression unreadable once again. "It means you need to be careful. There's more at stake here than you understand. And if you're not ready to face the truth, you're better off walking away now."
I stared at him, my mind racing. "I'm not walking away," I said firmly.
"Then you'd better be prepared for what's coming," he said.
The room fell silent again, the tension so thick I could feel it pressing against my chest. Finally, Damien spoke again.
"Follow me," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I hesitated for a moment before following him out of the room and down a long hallway. The air seemed to grow colder the farther we went, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was walking straight into the lion's den.
We stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, and Damien turned to face me.
"Before we go any further, you need to promise me something," he said.
"What now?" I asked, exasperated.
"No questions," he said, his gaze boring into mine. "Not until I say it's safe."
I clenched my jaw, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "This is insane."
"It's the only way," he said. "Do you trust me or not?"
The question hung in the air, taunting me. Did I trust Damien? Hell no. But did I have any other choice?
"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "No questions. For now."
Damien nodded and pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with high-tech monitors and surveillance equipment.
"What is this?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Damien shot me a look, and I quickly shut my mouth.
"Consider it a war room," he said, gesturing for me to step inside.
The air was thick with tension as Damien began typing something into a console, the screens lighting up with images I couldn't quite make sense of.
"This is where we'll start," he said, his voice calm and steady. "But you need to understand, Lena—once you step into this world, there's no going back."
I didn't respond, my eyes locked on the monitors. Whatever Damien was involved in, it was bigger than I'd imagined. And it was only the beginning.
Later that night, after Damien had gone to another part of the penthouse, I found myself pacing the room again. His words kept playing over in my head, warning me of dangers I couldn't comprehend.
But something about the way he'd spoken earlier, the way his voice had softened when he mentioned Ethan—it didn't add up.
I was about to head back to the kitchen when I heard voices coming from the hallway.
"I don't care what she thinks she knows," Damien was saying, his tone clipped. "What matters is keeping her out of their hands."
"She's more dangerous than you realize," another voice said. It was low and gravelly, belonging to someone I didn't recognize.
"She doesn't even know what she is," Damien said.
My blood ran cold.
What I am?
I pressed myself against the wall, straining to hear more.
"Then we need to make sure she never finds out," the other man said.
Damien's reply was too quiet to hear, but the weight of their conversation settled over me like a storm cloud.
What were they hiding from me? And what did Damien mean by "what she is"?
I didn't know, but one thing was clear: whatever secrets Damien Cross was keeping, they were about to change everything.