Elina looked at me from her corner of the dark brown couch, shutting her book closed—the cover had a bare chested man on it—and setting her wine glass on the table. I eyed her over my own book, one I'd stolen from her library, and put my bookmark in.
"What?" I asked, setting my book on the table. Mine had a cartoonish illustration of a man and a woman on it, far more innocent. On the outside, at least.
She sat up, rested her head on her hand and looked at me for a while longer. Her blond hair looked almost red in the shine from the fireplace we'd lit, to gain some of the same atmosphere from the backyard. It was way into fall, almost winter already, and far too cold and wet to sit outside after sundown. I didn't mind it, though I missed the sweet smells of the flowers.
"Nothing," she said eventually, shaking her head a little. "I just think you're glowing lately. James says the same about Damian. He's much less grumpy when there's just the two of them."
I took a sip of wine. "I don't think I've seen Damian grumpy," I told her, even if I did see an angry, borderline mad, man on our first date. I wondered silently if that was what he was like all the time—just not with me.
Elina choked a laugh. "That's because he's completely in love with you. He was from the first time he saw you, I think. He's soft for you."
It may have been the wine, but I blurted out, "He's definitely not soft for me." Elina couldn't hold her laughter, and changed her position to be on her knees, and I sat up straighter while I laughed with her.
"I've always wanted to know," she said, biting her lip a little as her dark eyebrow raised, "is he big?"
Even if I wanted to disappear into the couch cushions, I nodded. "The first time I didn't think it would fit." My voice was lowered, even if we were completely alone in the house.
There was a situation somewhere, and Damian dropped me off to stay with Elina while he and James went out to take care of it. As far as I knew, it wasn't anything dangerous, so I wasn't too scared. Elina seemed calm as well, so I enjoyed my time there.
She giggled and picked her wine glass up. "He's hot, without a doubt, but I'm a little surprised. I thought his distant and angry personality would match a small dick, but I guess not. Lucky girl." She winked at me and picked up the chilled bottle from the table to top off her glass.
I held out mine and she filled it up as well. "What about James?" I asked, filling my mouth with the sweet dessert wine we'd picked out from her special fridge just for wine, tasting it thoroughly.
Her eyes darkened a bit with mischief, and if she was embarrassed to answer there was no hint of it. "He's big," she said, lifting her eyebrows suggestively. "We're lucky girls, Isabelle. What's the odds of two best friends having big dicks?"
We both giggled for a while, letting the lovely buzz from the alcohol take over our minds, relaxing for real. I'd had trouble relaxing lately, if Damian wasn't spoiling me with his skilled mouth and hips, or holding me in his arms. I'd been looking over my shoulder everywhere, even at work. I blamed the taxi driver and the men who followed me and held a gun to my temple for my new anxiety. It wasn't easy, but right there, in Elina's house with her, I felt safe.
"Damian's great with his mouth as well," I said as I kept my eyes up at the ceiling, smiling as I remembered the low grunts he always provided when he went down on me. "I've never had better sex."
Elina giggled again. "Me neither. Maybe they share tips and techniques when they're out all night."
We fell into a fit of laughter. I almost spilled my wine, and then laughed a little more after I noticed, until the glass was pulled from my hand and placed on the table. We both stopped laughing. A warm hand found its way to my thigh, another rested on my shoulder, and chills went down my spine as an all-too familiar dark voice said, "Hello, sweetheart."
In the corner of my eye I saw James walk around the couch and sit down next to Elina, putting his arm around her and pulling her into his embrace. Damian stood behind me, his hand sliding up my body until he started massaging my shoulders lightly. I let out a moan, both from surprise and how good it felt.
I didn't even hear them come back.
"What were you girls laughing about?" James asked. I saw him pick up Elina's book, look at the cover and raise his eyebrows at her with a mischievous grin.
"We were just wondering if you two share your bedroom secrets when you're out all night," Elina said bluntly, taking the book from her husband's hands and smiling widely at him.
"We can't do that anymore," James said, before looking at me and back at his wife with his grin wider than before. "You two would just talk about it and find out we do the same stuff to make you moan."
I moaned again as Damian increased the strength on his massage, before he climbed over the back of the couch and sat down next to me, pulling me in against his chest. "Isabelle would be too embarrassed," Damian said, his eyes on me, before he looked over at the table where an empty bottle stood, and another almost empty one. "Unless she's drunk."
Elina giggled. Damian kissed my forehead gently, and smirked at me. He was in a good mood, which meant whatever they'd done wasn't too bad. I'd learned that much already. Whenever he needed to do something bad, his mood would be equally bad for a while.
So I deemed it safe to ask, "What do you do when you go out at night like this?"
Damian's fingers ran through my hair. I met with his eyes and he smiled, tilting his head to one side with slightly narrowed eyes, as if he were thinking. Then James said, "We took care of a shipment issue for the night club. Some of the wares didn't come, and too much of other things, so we just made sure they knew we wanted it all next time, in the right quantity."
Damian nodded. "Sometimes it's nothing, too, just being present in the back, show our faces here and there," he added, his fingers still running through my hair. "Prevents theft and other crimes."
"Why don't Michael do it?" I asked, not even knowing if he did or not, but something told me he kept mostly to himself and the golf tee I'd spotted behind his house.
"He's this close to retiring," James said, holding his thumb and index finger up to signal a very small space that looked like nothing from where I sat. "He wants to know Damian can keep it all in check on his own before he officially steps down."
I nodded my understanding carefully as it dawned on me that my boyfriend was that close to being an actual mafia boss—yet he was the warmest and kindest man I knew, save for my dad. Elina had told me he used to be grumpy and angry, but I'd seen none of it. Maybe I truly was his light in this dark world. The thought made me smile, and I leaned in closer to breathe in his earthy cologne.
"I bet it's yours by New Years," James said, grinning towards us, as if I was included in his bet.
"I'd say by Christmas," Elina supplied, winking at Damian.
"I'm sure he'll do something way too extravagant to do the hand off," Damian said, shrugging like he didn't care for that idea. "He loves Isabelle, so maybe he'll do a Valentines party for us and surprise everyone by giving me the empire."
He kissed the top of my head, probably noticing the shudder that ran through my body as he talked about it. I knew it, of course, but it seemed suddenly real—like everything before, all our shooting range practice and talks about the hotels and properties, wasn't. I sobered up at the topic, thinking about how I could possibly live with Damian once he'd have that much power, but I reminded myself he practically did everything now and Michael did nothing. Maybe being the boss meant he'd be safer, further away from the actual danger?
"That would be amazing!" Elina practically squealed with excitement and clapped her hands. "Maybe you could propose to her at the same time."
Her suggestive wink made me almost choke on my spit. We'd only been together a month and a half, maybe two. To be honest I hadn't counted, it had all just been so amazing and heart wrenchingly beautiful around every turn that I didn't even care that I wasn't with him from the first time I saw him. If anything, I wished I could have more time outside in both the lovely backyards before winter came, but that only made me seem materialistic, so I didn't say it out loud.
"We've barely known each other a few months, Elina," Damian warned, as if a proposal was the last thing on his mind. I didn't complain, I wouldn't be ready for that kind of commitment with him; Not because of him, no, but because of who he was.
I still wanted an easy way out if something went wrong. Even if my heart told me time and time again I'd rather die as his, than live without him, my rational brain told me the opposite.
"So? James proposed to me the first week!" She looked at us expectantly, but then she rolled her eyes and added, "But I didn't take that seriously, of course. He proposed several times before he actually had a ring and went down on one knee."
"You demanded it, baby," James said as he pulled her up into his lap. "I remember very clearly that you told me to stop fucking around and get you a ring if I was serious."
"And you did." She grinned, holding her hand up to show off her big engagement ring and the wedding band on top.
"Of course."
They kissed, and Damian turned his head to me as if he didn't want to watch, and he lifted a brow. "Should we get out of here?" he whispered, pressing his lips to my brow with such softness I felt like I was about to melt.
"Let's," I replied, smiling at him. I kissed his stubbly cheek, and got to my feet with his help. I picked up my stolen book and waved at the lovebirds on the couch, but they were too busy with each other to notice.
My phone started vibrating on the floor somewhere, so I went down on all fours to find it. It had fallen down under the couch and I thanked whoever was calling for it, because otherwise I would've forgotten. When I fished it out I saw it was William, and then I checked the time and furrowed my brows.
"Hello?" I said, a little confused as to why he'd call me at half past ten in the evening.
"Isabelle? I'm sorry to call this late," he said, his voice quick and nervous, "but I didn't know if I should call the police or not, I figured maybe he was with you."
"Slow down, please, I'm way too tipsy for this," I complained, putting a finger into my free ear and closing my eyes to hear better. I felt Damian's hand on my back as he slowly guided me through the house.
"Is your dad with you?" William asked, a little clearer now.
"No, why?" Lead dropped down into my stomach, as if I knew.
"He's not at home," he explained, "his car's in the garage and the doors are unlocked everywhere. I was just dropping off some power tools for the new doors that are coming tomorrow, but he's not here. I was even rude enough to go inside and check all the rooms, even upstairs, because I got a bad feeling. Should I call the police?"
"Oh, God," was all I could get out, and my feet wouldn't go any further. Damian ran his hand down my back, and I heard his voice talk to me through the finger in my ear, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. My ears were ringing. "Yes, call the police."
My phone left my hand and when I opened my eyes I saw it was because Damian had taken it. His voice was full of calm and safety as he said, "No police, we're on our way."
Then it hit me.
This could be mafia. The mafia could've taken my dad, now that I was involved with them. James and Damian had both been out earlier that night. Busy with the shipments, so maybe someone saw their chance to hurt the Strac's. Everyone and their mother knew Damian and I were together now, and it wouldn't be hard to track down my dad.
Tears stung behind my eyes as the realization slowly hit me.
"You said he'd be safe!" I practically screamed before I could think twice. My fists collided with Damian's hard chest two times, three times, four, before he caught my wrists and shushed me, pulling me into his arms.
"We're gonna find him, sweetheart, I promise." His voice was softer and full of the promise he made. I trusted him. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't my fault. But my dad was nowhere to be seen, and I found myself hoping he'd locked himself in the basement or the attic, and didn't have his phone with him to call for help.