𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗔𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ☏︎

𝟏𝟕 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐊

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐞𝐡 ☁︎

The ride to his penthouse is silent, but breathable. It's 7 p.m. and the sky is slowly darkening.

It's peaceful until my stomach releases the loudest rumble I've ever heard.

Crap, I hope he didn't hear that.

But to my horror, he lets out a deep chuckle. This was so embarrassing. "Hungry?" He teases. I simply nodded, and he turns to look at me. I don't look at him. "There's a lil restaurant in the building. I can take you there."

"Thanks." I say softly, still feeling a bit embarrassed. Then I remember I can barely walk. I don't say anything though.

He pulls up into the parking lot of the apartment building, where his penthouse sits proudly at the top. "Wait there."

He exits the car and advances to my side, opening the door for me and supporting me in getting out of the car. I undo my seatbelt and put my good foot out first, and then my sprained one. He grabs my waist, his face dangerously close to mine, and I place a hand on his shoulder. He pulls me up, and I put my weight on his shoulder forcing myself up too.

He gets my crutches for me as I watch him, biting my lip. His touch still lingered on my waist. He turns to me, passing the crutches over and I take them, then we begin to walk to the building, past his receptionist and into the elevator.

Who knew crutches could take up so much energy? Damien presses the button for the sixtieth floor, then swipes his key card to unlock it. "The people cleaning up his body are also going to bring your essentials, like your clothes, toothbrush, sanitary products-"

"I know what essentials are." I cut in. It sounded a bit rude, but surely he wouldn't mind. "Do you have a pool?" The question randomly pops up into my head, and I turn to look at him. He solely nods, and I get excited.

I love pools, I love swimming too. I could just lounge all day the pool, I doubt I'd have to work when my foot is barely functioning. "Tell them to bring my swimsuit."

The corner of his lips lift up in amusement. He doesn't respond, and I'm not sure what that meant, but it stirs something mischievous in the air.

"Aren't we meant to be going to the restaurant?" I ask, remembering that we're headed to the sixtieth floor. The elevator doors open, and we enter the foyer of his penthouse.

"Not yet. The best time go is at 8 p.m." He responds, taking his shoes off and putting them on the shoe rack. I do the same, being careful with my injured foot and he continues. "We have time to relax and you to get your things."

"Do you have men to clean up your bodies?" I ask, remembering how he casually said he'd have people clean up the body. "Are you a murderer?" I gasp.

"You ask so many questions, and no. I'm not a murderer, I only use my gun when I really have to." He answers, strolling out of the foyer and into the living space. I follow him into the living room. "I've only killed 3 people."

"Why?" Normally I'd be freaked out, trying to escape but interest and curiosity fills me instead.

"That," He begins, sitting down on the sofa and reaching for the remote. "Is confidential information." I roll my eyes, peeking to see what he's putting on the TV.

"You are the most boring person I have ever met." I mumble, narrowing my eyes as he puts the news on. The reporter is going off about the fire that occurred yesterday, and potential suspects.

He hums at my observation. "And you're clearly uneducated." He replies, unfazed. He's back to his cold and arrogant self.

I spin on my heel and hop to the guest bedroom, setting down my purse and taking my phone out. I check for any new notifications, and see a few from Joanne and Isabella.