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“I did pretty well for a mere club owner, don’t you think?” I smiled.
She blushed. “Yes, you did.”
The two-story house was white and elegant. Upstairs, a wide balcony overlooked the manicured lawn and hedges. The warm glow of the lights inside made the house welcoming.
Despite the serenity that the house may offer, armed and dangerous men were hidden strategically around the property, prepared to take out any unwanted guests. Whether they were seeking Delilah or those who had been threatening my business.
As we stepped inside, Delilah drank it all in. The entrance hall opened up into a grand space. To the left, there was a doorway that led to the kitchen, my office and three guest bedrooms. But what made Delilah’s jaw drop was the intricate double staircase that curved gracefully toward the master bedroom and three additional guest rooms.
On the ground floor, behind the staircas,e was an open area that led to the dining room, which had another entrance through the kitchen. The chandeliers glowed on the tiled floors and the walls were adorned with family pictures.
I led Delilah up the stairs to one of the guest rooms, my hand lingering on the small of her back. I wanted nothing more than to have her sleep in my bed tonight. But, after everything she’d been through—finding her place trashed, tumbling down the stairs, revealing her secret and accepting my help with demands of her own—paired with my guilty conscience for how I treated her when we were kids, I didn’t want her to panic and back out. Even though she was under my roof, I knew there was still a possibility of her backing out of the arrangement, so I had to play my cards right.
“This will be your room.” I pointed to the door on the right. “That’s the bathroom, and that’s the walk-in closet.” I pointed to the door on the left. “When you leave this room, my room is the first door on your right. If you need anything, just let me know.”
At the center of the room was a king-sized bed, draped in a champagne duvet. The headboard was upholstered in cream leather, framed by dark wood. The walls were painted pearl grey and two floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the bed were covered by blinds. There was a rug on the tiled floors and matching nightstands on either side of the bed with lamps. Next to the bed was a brown armchair, while in the corner of the room was a brown sofa and a marble coffee table. Mounted on the wall in front of the bed was a large TV and an electric fireplace.
“Don’t worry about your things, I’ll bring them up to you in the morning. There are robes in the bathroom. And anything you may need to get ready for bed tonight.”
“Thank you.” She placed a hand on my chest and my heart raced at her touch. I covered her hand with mine. “I know the deal is weird and all, but honestly, if this had happened when I hadn’t met you, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
Her gaze dropped and I lifted her chin so she could look into my eyes.
“I’m sorry that this has happened to you. I promise you that you’re not going to go through this alone. I’m glad that I can be here for you.”
I pulled her into my arms, and held her tight, loving the warmth of her skin pressed into me. After a few minutes, I reached into my shirt pocket, pulled out her bottle of medication, and handed it to her.
“Get some rest. Tomorrow, don’t go to the office. We’ll sort out a few things okay?”
She nodded and I kissed her forehead.
“Good night, Delilah.”
“Good night.”
By seven a.m. the next morning, Vega had sent me information on all the people who were involved in Dean’s business before it went under. The file included pictures and detailed information about each person. Some of them were high-profile individuals, while some were ordinary citizens. Not wanting to overlook anything, I printed the pictures, including one of Obsidian.
At seven-thirty a.m. I stepped into the kitchen, where Deliah was already sitting. She held a cup of coffee in both hands and the table was littered with candy wrappers. There were dark circles under her eyes. It was clear she hadn’t slept well the night before.
“Get any sleep?” I asked as I sat next to her, pictures in hand.
Startled, she spilled some of the coffee on her robe and the table.
“Shit!” She jumped up and tried to clean it with the candy wrappers.
I went to the counter, gathered some paper towels and handed her a few to wipe her robe while I dealt with the mess on the table.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to have your table looking like a garbage dump. I eat candy bars when I’m nervous,” she blurted out.
“Delilah, it’s fine. It’s not like you got a permanent marker and scribbled all over the table.”
I collected the used tissues from her, tossed them in the bin and sat next to her.
“So, did you get any sleep last night?” I repeated.
“Hardly,” she sighed.
“I’ll get you some sleep medication to help. I’m sorry I have to do this now, but I need to get this out of the way.”