Chapter 7 - The Penthouse Sanctuary
By midnight, the fire at Pier 9 was extinguished, Russo’s men were either in police custody or fleeing the state, and Damian’s private medical team had taken care of Marco’s concussion.
A heavily guarded convoy brought Damian and Evelyn back to Manhattan.
They didn't go to Greenwich Village.
The car pulled into the subterranean garage of a soaring, glass-and-steel tower on Tribeca’s Franklin Street. A private elevator opened directly into the penthouse—a two-story sanctuary of dark wood, marble floors, floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and quiet, absolute luxury overlooking the Hudson River.
Damian led Evelyn through the grand living room toward a master suite.
“You’re soaking wet,” he said, opening the door to an enormous marble bathroom equipped with a walk-in rainfall shower and a deep soaking tub. “Wash up. I’ll have fresh clothes brought to you.”
Evelyn walked into the warm, steam-filled bathroom. She looked at herself in the massive lit mirror.
Her hair was plastered to her forehead, her mascara was slightly smeared, and her cream sweater was ruined with rain and dark mud. But her eyes were bright, clear, and burning with an intensity she barely recognized.
She turned on the hot water, stripped out of her ruined clothes, and stepped beneath the scalding spray.
As the water washed away the dirt and cold of Red Hook, her mind replayed the sight of Damian stepping out from the shadows to save her.
He wasn't just using her. He protected her. He held her in the rain like she was the most precious thing in his world.
When she stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later, wrapped in a thick white terrycloth robe provided by the suite, she found a set of soft black silk pajamas laid neatly on the bed.
She put them on and stepped out into the living room.
Damian was standing near the floor-to-ceiling glass window, looking out over the rain-drenched city. He had changed into a dark grey linen shirt with the top three buttons undone and black trousers. He held a crystal glass of bourbon in one hand.
The room was lit only by the warm glow of a gas fireplace and the ambient lights of Manhattan below.
“How do you feel?” he asked without turning his head.
“Warm,” she said, walking slowly over to stand beside him at the window. “Thank you.”
Damian turned his head, looking down at her. His eyes darkened as he took in her damp hair, her fresh skin, and the soft silk pajamas clinging gently to her frame.
“You shouldn't have been there tonight,” he said softly. “I brought you into my violence.”
“I chose to stay in the car,” she reminded him. “And I hit a hitman with a thermos. I think I held my own.”
Damian let out a low, rich laugh that resonated deep in his chest. He set his bourbon glass on the glass side table and turned his body fully toward her.
“You are extraordinary, Evelyn Vance,” he whispered.
Evelyn looked up into his gray eyes. The distance between them, constructed of legal contracts, fake dates, and fifty-thousand-dollar checks, seemed to evaporate into the warm air of the room.
“Damian,” she murmured, her pulse quickening. “What happens when the twenty-one days are over?”
Damian stepped closer, closing the last few inches between them. His hand reached out, his long fingers trailing gently down the side of her warm neck, stopping at the hollow of her collarbone where her heart was pounding fast.
“When the twenty-one days are over,” Damian said, his voice dropping into a thick, hypnotic register, “I clear your student loans. I buy your sister a house in Greenwich. And I spend the rest of my life trying to convince you to stay.”
Evelyn’s breath hitched. “Is that another contract?”
“No,” Damian whispered, leaning down until his lips were brushing against hers. “That’s a promise.”
He kissed her.
May you like
It was not gentle, but it was profoundly careful. His lips were warm, tasting of rich bourbon and dark fire, pulling her into an embrace that swept away every doubt, every fear, and every law she had ever studied.
Evelyn wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes, sliding her fingers into his dark, soft hair as she pulled him closer, surrendering completely to the Devil of the East River.
