Page 17

Chapter Seventeen

M aya

Waking up to find Damian already gone from his side of the bed shouldn’t surprise me. Early rising is as much a part of him as his philosophical nature. The sound of the heavy bag from downstairs tells me where to find him.

The crack of fists meeting leather fills the gym as he works through combinations, each strike precise as a surgeon’s blade. His form has improved dramatically in the past week, modern boxing and martial arts techniques melding with whatever ancient training shaped him into a warrior.

My phone vibrates against my hip. Dad’s number. Again. Part of me wants to ignore it, but last night I let the last three calls go straight to voicemail. With Empire Gym looming tomorrow, whatever trouble he’s in must be serious.

“Take five,” I tell Damian, forcing myself to look away from the mesmerizing flow of his muscles. “Stay loose.”

After acknowledging with a slight bow that sends heat curling through my belly despite our awkward intimacy last night, he unwraps his hands with that deliberate grace that makes everything look like a ritual.

Ducking into my office, I answer just before my phone cuts the call off. “What’s wrong?”

“Baby, we got big problems.” Dad’s voice carries that familiar edge of panic that always means trouble. And when he’s in trouble, somehow it always becomes “we” instead of “me.” “Tony’s been talking to some serious people about the iceman. Research facilities—they’re offering stupid money just for tissue samples.”

My blood runs cold as the information hits like a series of depth charges—Tony knows Damian’s identity… he wants to profit from it… and big pharma is about to catch up to us.

I don’t know why my first response is, “What kind of money?”

“ Millions .” He drops his voice to a whisper. “And that’s just for samples. Whole bidding war brewing between these big companies. They’re desperate to study him. But Tony—he’s playing them against each other while still planning the fights. Says they can wait until after the gladiator proves himself at Empire.”

Tony seemed to be baiting me when he asked about Damian’s background. Shit! I’m losing my touch. I should have known he was playing with me. He must have known Damian’s history for a while.

Through my office window, I watch Damian move through a series of stretches, completely unaware that his very existence has sparked a corporate bidding war—or that my father is objectifying him as an “iceman” instead of a person.

“How do you know all this?”

“Been running errands for Tony’s crew in Reno. Overheard some calls.” He pauses, and I can practically hear him tugging at his collar. “Thing is, one of these companies approached me directly. Offered fifty grand just to tell them where to find him.”

“Tell me you didn’t—” Before my dad can answer, my mind shows me half a dozen scenarios of how my dad’s greed can get me and Damian killed.

“Course not! But baby, these guys aren’t playing around. They’ve got private security, government connections. Tony might think he’s in control, but he’s just made some powerful enemies.”

A sharp knock interrupts whatever else he was going to say. Damian stands in my doorway, concern etched on his features. Even now, after sharing my bed and having his mouth on my sex, he waits for permission to enter.

“Enter,” I say automatically, then wince at how easily my voice became commanding. “Dad, I have to go. Just… stay out of trouble.” And keep us out of the crossfire, I think to myself.

“That’s not all.” His words tumble out faster now. “Think I found a way out. Guy I know in Sacramento runs some underground fights. Says he can get us new papers, fresh start. If we can just—”

“No!” The word cracks like a whip. “No more schemes. No more fixes. Just stay put and let me handle this.”

Ending the call, I find Damian watching me with those too-knowing eyes. “Your father brings troubling news.”

Not a question. He’s too observant to miss my tension, just as he’s too intelligent to believe all the lies we’ve been telling him. Each day, I see the questions building behind his careful mask.

“Nothing to worry about.” The lie tastes bitter, especially after last night’s promise that I’d come clean. “Let’s work on your defense for tomorrow.”

He accompanies me to the training area, but I feel his eyes studying me. When we square off on the mats, his movements carry new intensity.

“You protect him,” he says between exchanges. “Even when his actions bring danger.”

“He’s family.” I throw a combination that he easily deflects. “It’s complicated.”

“Family obligations often are.” He shifts his weight, telegraphing a high kick that’s obviously meant to disguise his real attack. “But lies told from love can still draw blood.”

The comment catches me so off guard that I miss his sweep. My back hits the mat, driving the air from my lungs. He follows me down, pinning my shoulders with those massive hands, his face inches from mine. His expression sour, but his breath sweet.

“Perhaps,” he murmurs, “it is time for truth between us.”

Heat floods my body at his closeness, the warmth of his breath on my cheek. Just like last night in bed, the careful space between us feels charged with possibility. One shift of weight and I could close the distance, taste those lips that both mock and beckon…

The front door chimes—Tony’s men, right on schedule. Damian pulls us both to our feet with natural balance.

“Everything okay in here?” Marco surveys the scene with predatory eyes.

“Just training.” I keep my voice professional despite my racing heart. “Working on takedown defense for tomorrow.”

“Boss wants progress reports.” Marco’s gaze lingers on Damian’s bowed head. “Says Empire Gym better be impressed. Lot of important people gonna be watching.”

The threat hangs heavy in the air. After they leave, Damian and I maintain a careful distance as I wonder why I kissed him last night. We both know we’re playing with fire.

But his words echo in my mind as we finish training. Time for truth between us. He’s right, of course. The lies are becoming impossible to maintain, especially now that my dad confirmed the pharmaceutical companies have joined the hunt. Each day brings new complications, new dangers.

Tonight. We’ll take our showers and sit at my tiny kitchen table, and I’ll spill everything. If he hates me, well, damn it, I deserve it. I just hope it doesn’t spin him out completely.

As I nod my head, confirming my commitment to come clean, Damian’s gaze finds mine across the room. There’s something in his eyes—a mixture of hope and uncertainty that makes my chest ache. He’s been watching me closely tonight, sensing the weight of what I’m holding back.

He crosses to me with that fluid grace that still takes my breath away, even after weeks of training together. His fingertips brush mine, a question in the gesture.

“Tomorrow,” I promise quietly, the word feeling like both truth and betrayal on my tongue.

But as he turns away, satisfied with my answer, my throat tightens. Tomorrow he’ll face Rico’s fighters—men who fight without mercy, without rules. Men who’ve sent opponents to the hospital with injuries that ended careers. And I’m about to drop the knowledge of two thousand years of lost time on him right before he steps into that cage?

My fingers curl into fists at my sides. I need him focused, need him sharp. Need him to survive whatever brutal test Tony has planned.

The truth will have to wait.