Avowed (The Manipulation Trilogy Book 3) (12 page)

I shake my head no and he frowns. “It's not what you think. I'm not hiding it from him. Damon knows what’s inside, and I told him what Lydia wrote. He chose not to read it.” I pause to see if he believes me, and when his face relaxes I continue. “If he asks to read it later down the line I will give it to him, but he hasn’t. I'm not going to shove it in his face and make him read it. He has been through so much and it would be like rubbing salt in his already bleeding wounds.” 

“What do you mean?” he asks full of confusion. I don’t think Tom ever really understood Damon. He has never seen what I see in him. Not many people can see his pain.

I waver for a second, wondering if I should spill Damon's secrets.  It's Tom, he is like my brother. I know I can trust him with my life but they’re Damon’s to tell. I feel like I can share the parts that include Lydia and Pops, but the rest aren’t mine to disclose.

“Damon knew me from before, years before,” I say, waiting and letting that sink in. “When he was younger he lost someone important, and Spencer saw he was on a path of self destruction, drinking heavily. To make sure he didn't see his brother wrapped around a tree Spencer hired a driver for him. That driver was Pops.” Tom’s eyes widen at my words, shock at what I just said is evident on his face. I don’t wait for him to say anything, I just continue.

“The night that Pops died he had been working for Damon. Pops hadn't been well. He had been complaining of a headache all day and when Damon told him to go home, Pops refused. He claimed he was fine and would stay until his shift was over.” I know my Pops, he was such a proud man, and I know he would have refused. He would never slack off so I know he wouldn’t have left early.

I let out sigh as I remember Damon’s words. The guilt he feels for the death of my father has been an unnecessary burden on him for years. “He blamed himself for Pops’ Death.”

I know Tom understands from the look of compassion in his azure eyes.

“He believes if he had forced him to go home earlier the accident wouldn't have happened, but that's what it was, an accident.” I say. “I know my dad well and I know with one hundred percent of my heart that no matter what Damon did, my Pops wouldn’t have left early. He wasn’t weak and to him, leaving early would have been a weak move in his eyes.”

Tom grasps my hand and gives me a gentle squeeze, encouraging me to continue.

“That's why Damon gave Lydia a job as his PA. He felt like he owed it to Pops to look after us.  It's also why he didn't go to the police when Lydia attacked Abbi.” Tom’s eyes widen and I give him a small nod, letting him know it was Abbi. I’m surprised he didn’t recognise her, but then again I don’t know the full extent of Abbi’s injuries. Maybe there was too much blood? I shudder at the thought.

“Shit,” Tom whispers.

“Shit indeed,” I reply. “He was trying to do the right thing by Pops, by helping Lydia.  He was trying to protect her from getting into trouble. He knew Lydia needed help, not jail time.”

“Has he told you about Leona? What his reasons were for always leaving and helping her?” he asks.

I nod my head yes at him.

“It’s bad. Not my place to say but I understand. I can’t say I agree with his reasoning and I can’t honestly say I believe the story. Not that I disbelieve Damon, I don’t believe Leona.”

“Damon hates himself Tom. He blames himself for some terrible things but none were his fault. He believed he was a monster but he’s not. He was just carrying a lot of unnecessary guilt. Leona hasn’t helped the situation and I’m sure she’s used his guilt to get him running to her,” I say bitterly.

Tom has only ever seen strong Damon, the one who is always so sure about everything, and at my words he looks shocked. “All he saw when he looked at himself was a monster. To the world he is confident and successful, but deep down he is broken. Everything that happened after nearly destroyed him,” I say, my voice breaking slightly with emotion.

Tom picks up his drink that is probably now cold and gulps it down.  He turns back to me and waits for me to start to speak again.

“When Lydia killed herself Damon took another hit. Took on more guilt.” I say sadly. “Lydia texted and called Damon nonstop the day she committed suicide. After a lot of ignored calls Lydia finally left Damon a voice message. She told him what she planned to do and Damon panicked. He knew he had to try and stop her.” My words come out in a rush as I try to tell Damon’s story, but my memories of that day force themselves to the front of my mind, and my pain tries to take over.

Tom feels my apprehension as I struggle to keep my shaking voice under control.

“Ella, if this is too much for you, you don’t have to tell me. It’s okay,” he says in a cool and calm voice. It's the complete opposite of the emotional turmoil I'm feeling inside, and as he rubs my back gently, it calms me, giving me the focus that I need to continue.

“It's okay, I think I want to talk about it Tom. No, I
need
to talk about it. It purges my soul. Speaking the truth out loud helps me accept the truth easier.” I know he understands what I feel because he has seen me at my darkest – when I was the empty shell of a person I used to be.

“Okay Ella.  If it gets too much we can stop. It's in the past and it doesn’t matter anymore,” he says softly. Inhaling a deep breath I take a moment before I continue.

“By the time he got to our flat all he could hear was me screaming. He kicked open the door the same time the paramedics arrived. He was the one who pulled me away from her body, Tom. I had always thought it was a paramedic. I never realised it was him. I blocked it out.” The pain of that day is still so raw for me, and I now know Lydia was sick but she was my sister and I loved her.

I
love
her.

Still. After everything I’ve learnt, I still love her.

“Damon left me at the hospital and he was broken, and filled with remorse. It was another death on his hands in his eyes. He refused to speak to anyone, just drank and drowned in his own pain,” I say through my own tears that are now cascading down my cheeks. I understand now what Flora meant when she told me I brought back her son. “He says I saved him Tom. Damon believes he isn't worth loving, but I know he is. I’m trying to show him he is. He’s worth everything to me. It was Damon who saved me, not the other way around.” I let out a sob just as I feel Tom's arm come around my shoulders, and pull me into a hug.

“You saved each other,” Tom says softly.

“You did save me beauty. Maybe Tom is right, we saved each other.” Unaware that Damon is standing behind us, we both jump at his words, startled. I stand up on the sofa and throw myself into his arms, needing to be as close as our bodies can get. I wrap myself around him, trying to fuse each of my limbs with his.

“I missed you babe,” I say into Damon’s neck. He chuckles and turns my head out of the crook of his neck with a hand in my chin, making me look at him. The dark gleam in his eyes tells me he’s happy with my reaction.

“I love you,” he says, his voice gritty.

Damon’s lips descend to mine, cutting me off before I can reply and tell him I love him more. I relax into the embrace, and let him take what he wants from me, opening my mouth wider for him, forgetting we’re not alone. I moan into his mouth, as my husband’s taste washes over me, drowning me in excitement as my blood heats up. 

Tom clearing his throat registers in my brain, but I don’t care. I’m desperate for more of my husband. Damon pulls his mouth away from mine, but only for a second. Settling me back on my feet, his lips graze mine in torturously slow strokes. I melt against him, and with a final firm kiss on the lips he pulls away, leaving me panting. A smirk paints his face and the sparkle in his eyes lets me know I’m in for a treat when we’re alone.

I’m suddenly ready for Tom to leave.

“Tom it’s good to see you man. How are you?” Damon asks, pulling Tom into a friendly man-hug back-slap. I listen to their polite exchange with a smile on my face. I may want my husband desperately, but seeing him and Tom getting along so well makes my heart swell. Happiness washes over me at how close they have become as of late. Because Tom is important to me, he is now important to Damon too, and as long as I need him in my life, Damon will always welcome him.

I love that I get to have them both in my life. Things could have been a lot different if my plans worked. I would not have had either of them in my life and that would be devastating.

If there had ever been a choice it would have always been Damon, but I'm selfish enough that I’m happy I get to keep both.

CHAPTER TWELVE

October 31
st
2014

Ella

We pull into the parking lot at Hunter Enterprises. Damon asked me if I would like to come into work with him for a few hours while he goes into a board meeting. We’re going for tea at Flora and Georges tonight, so it makes sense to go from the office. My work load is pretty quiet at the moment, especially as I really haven’t taken on any planning events since meeting Damon.

Damon turns off the engine, quickly exits the car, and makes his way around to open my door. He helps me out before grasping my hand tightly in his, and we make our way inside.

This is the first time I’ve been inside Hunter Enterprises since being with Damon. Security is tight, and visitors have to sign in and collect a visitors badge before they can gain access to anywhere other than reception. A tall, bulky, intimidating security guard stands in plain sight of the front doors.

Marble floors shine in the afternoon sun’s reflection, gleaming and polished. Workers are quickly moving about, already well into their work day. Damon leads me to the elevator and we swiftly move up to the twentieth floor, as he keeps my hand tightly locked in his.

The elevator opens to a large, white sterile reception area with a dark full-wall desk. A young man sits behind it, taking calls and directing visitors to the correct offices. Flower bouquets adorn every spare surface available, giving a vibrant feel to the spotlessly clean office.

Damon leads me past open offices as we make our way to his. Floor to ceiling windows provide a beautiful view of the city surrounding us from every direction. When we reach Damon’s office he presses his thumb against a door pad to gain access through the double glass doors. They swiftly open and Damon steps through, pulling me along behind him.

Just being here sends me into an emotional spin. My heart pounds as thoughts of Lydia swim through my mind.  Knowing that she was once in this very office fills me with sadness.

I pause, stopping Damon short. Two large dark wooden desks sit outside two separate offices; one on each side of the suite. A young, pretty blonde is sitting outside one office on the right hand side. She looks up and smiles when she spots Damon, and quickly stands.

“Mr. Hunt,” she says, politely. “Spencer is in conference room one with your guests. Would you like refreshments brought through?”

“No, give it a half hour Samantha. I’ll buzz through when we’re ready. I imagine they’ve already been offered drinks?” Damon speaks with a clipped tone. He’s not even looking in her direction, he’s watching me.

“Of course,” Samantha replies.

“Beauty?” He gently pulls my hand, bringing me a step closer to him, and looks at me with concern. “Are you okay?” I nod and swallow.

Breaking eye contact, I look around the office space. My eyes land on the empty desk and I know, I just
know
that Lydia used to sit there. I don’t know how I know but I just do. My hairs stand on end and I hold my breath as I visualise Lydia sitting there now.

Damon steps closer to me and wraps his arms around me. I swallow past the lump in my throat and press my forehead against his neck and take a deep breath, inhaling Damon’s scent.

I didn’t think this would be so hard.  

Just being here, feeling her presence even though I know it’s only in my head, makes me want to cry. This place is what broke my sister.

Damon presses his lips against my hair and gently strokes my back until I calm. I pull back and look up into his gorgeous brown eyes. They look like liquid chocolate as they swirl with concern and love.

I look away, stepping back, needing to gather myself. My sister had a whole other life here within these walls and I want to know everything about it. Did she have any friends here? Someone she could talk to and laugh with? Did she ever really enjoy working here? I quickly scan the room again before looking back at my husband.

His worry for me is evident on his face, and my eyes flit between his as I look for signs of what, I don’t know. I have so many questions I want to ask but I know he doesn’t know the answers. He doesn’t
have
the answers.

I step forward and press my swollen stomach against his firm abs, getting as close as I can, before I stand on my tiptoes and lift my lips to his. Damon’s hands instantly go to my hips and hold me to him. I kiss him with all my love because I have the sudden urge to show him my love is real. Our love is real.

He blamed himself for so much. I blamed him for so much. I know the true story now, but there is still so much I don’t know. I need to reassure myself that I already have real. I have my husband’s love.

That’s all that matters.

Damon’s hand slides up my back and slips into my hair, fisting it, and he holds me locked in his embrace, deepening the kiss. I moan against his lips but it turns to a groan when he pulls away, leaving me breathless. My heart is beating its own rhythm, pounding against my ribs. He brings his hands around to cup my cheek and looks deeply into my eyes. 

“It's okay beauty, I'm here. Just breathe Ella,” he says in a soft voice. Focusing my eyes firmly on his, his piercing gaze holds me captive as my heart rate steadies again.

“I'm sorry.” I look away in embarrassment. My husband reads me so easily. “Just seeing where she sat, got to me. I'm okay now,” I mumble. Damon grasps my chin and brings my face back to his, forcing me to look into his eyes. The concern in his gaze doesn't subside and his eyes don’t leave my face. 

Forcing all of my feelings down, I muster up a smile to show that I am, in fact, really okay.  Leaning his body in closer, his lips graze against my forehead, and he hovers for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on me.

“Don’t ever be ashamed to show how you feel beauty. I know this is hard on you, but you don’t have to hide it from me,” he says in a husky voice. Husky with emotion. I know that whenever Damon sees me in pain he feels it himself. It’s the same for me. When I see him hurting I feel it too. I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him close for a moment. 

Separating, he takes my hand in his again, pulling me towards his office. It’s only then I notice that Samantha discreetly left at some point during our moment. I'm grateful Damon and Spencer keep their offices apart from their staff. This would have been so much harder with more people witnessing my pause. Walking past Lydia's desk, I give it a brief glance before following Damon through the doors and into his own office.

****

Damon left me about half an hour ago to attend his meeting, and I’ve spent some of that time decorating my belly. Damon has a habit of uncovering my bump at every opportunity so I’m planning on giving him a surprise.

Every so often a smartly dressed person walks past, staring in at me through the glass doors as I sit outside Damon’s office. I feel like something on display. I’m being sized up by women, and getting questioning looks from men.

They all know Damon had gotten married recently, and it seems like they’re all fascinated with who captured him. I’m sure they’re all wondering why me, and how I got so lucky. I wonder the same things. Everything happened so fast. I’m sure many people are in doubt about our love.

I’ve seen a few familiar faces but none have stopped by to speak. Everyone is going about their work day as normal but some are curious about me. I can see it in their eyes.  

I move back into Damon’s office, preferring to move out of view. I explore his office as only a good wife should, and find nothing worth noting.

After another twenty minutes of doing nothing but sitting here twiddling my thumbs, boredom sets in. I’ve looked at all the books on the bookshelves that line one wall. I stared at the view of London at my feet through the floor to ceiling windows. I even sat in every chair in Damon’s office, just trying to find a comfortable place to sit.

Being pregnant makes relaxing difficult at times, and now is one of those times. I’m feeling hot, restless, and curious. I’m currently sitting in one of the chairs at a table for six in the middle of the room. Damon’s office has three separate seating areas, a table for meetings in the centre of the room, to the back left sits his large dark desk with two office chairs across from him, and to the far left is a comfortable seating area. Two two-seater sofas are positioned on either side of a small coffee table, but both are angled just right to be able to take in the spectacular skyline from wherever you sit.

Standing, I make my way over to Damon’s desk and take a seat in his chair. It’s large and shaped to mould to the human form. It feels like I’m cocooned within the leather of the chair. I nudge the mouse pad on Damon’s laptop to see if it’s switched on.

It is and what I see takes my breath away, and shocks me to no end. At first I’m embarrassed, and then anger simmers. The photo he’s using as his desktop background is a picture of me.

Naked and asleep.

It’s a black and white photograph of me sprawled across our bed at home. The sheets are twisted low on my hips, covering me. My cheeks appear to be flushed, my eyes shut in slumber, but I know it’s really the glow of orgasm. My bare breasts are on display, swollen and rounded, my nipples tightly peaked. My hand visible on the picture is grasping the sheets beneath me. It’s a beautiful photo and my bump is defined with the arch of my spine. 

It’s beautiful.

It’s private.

Anyone could see this photo. Anger mixed with confusion twists in my gut. Why would Damon have this photo on display for anyone to see? Okay, so it’s not completely on display as long as no one looks at his computer, but the possibility of that happening is very real.

I move to look through the computer files for Damon’s other pictures and find picture upon picture of me. Nothing but me. My heart warms as I look through them all and find candid shots in all different settings. There are pictures of me sleeping, eating, laughing, pouting, concentrating, and quite a few of me with a post coital glow.

As much as my heart warms at all the photos of me I’m also a little miffed that he would use such a private image of me as his desktop background. How many people have accidentally seen me in that picture? I need to do something to take my mind off my thoughts but there isn’t much here I can do. I would go and see Spencer, but I know that he is in the meeting with Damon. Standing up, I stretch and walk out the door.  A girl around my age is sitting at the desk outside Damon’s office, Samantha is nowhere to be seen, and as soon as the girl sees me she jumps to her feet and rushes forward with a small smile.

“Are you okay Mrs. Hunt? Can I get you anything?” she asks, flustered. I shake my head no, and return her smile. 

“I'm fine, thank you. Please call me Ella. I’m still not used to being Mrs. Hunt,” I say with an awkward laugh.

“Okay Ella. I'm Phoebe, Mr. Hunt's personal assistant,” she says, grasping my hand. “It’s so nice to meet you!” she exclaims. She’s polite and it’s refreshing to see how enthusiastic she is to please. I instantly like her.

“Thank you,” I reply feeling a little shy. The way she’s looking at me is as if I’m royalty.

“If you need anything please let me know Ella.”

“Thank you. Actually you can do something for me. Could you please show me where I can get something to drink?” I ask.

“I can fetch you a drink if you’d like?” she asks.

“I’d like to stretch my legs a little. I’m a tad stiff. You can give me directions if you can’t leave your desk,” I suggest.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take you. I’m ready for a drink myself,” she says with a wink.

“Thank you.”

Phoebe nods her head before moving to her desk. She logs off her computer and hits a button on her desk phone. Giving me a gentle smile, she walks over to me and motions towards the glass doors. I follow her out and we head down the corridor and towards the elevator.

Conversations come to a halt as we pass by, and people sitting at their desks stop and stare. I’m sure seeing their boss’s new wife, who is obviously pregnant, but never having met her before is puzzling. It’s all happened quickly. I bet some of his employees think I’m a gold digger but that thought no longer bothers me.

The people who matter know the truth. They know our love is real.
It’s true
.

Knowing most of these women probably lust after my husband makes me smile. Damon is mine and he’s more than happy to let people know. I’m confident in his love for me.

Phoebe makes small talk as we walk, asking me about the wedding and baby. My hand rests against my bump as I answer her questions politely.

Reaching the lift, Phoebe presses the call button and the doors instantly glide open. Stepping in, we travel down to the first floor in silence, and once we come to a stop, we step out, and I follow Phoebe into a staff restaurant.

The aroma of spiced foods float to me in the air to me and my mouth waters. It’s a cosy place, homey. Different stations offer a variety of foods, from curries, to salads, to roast dinners. There’s a selection of different seating areas to chose from, whether that be in a cosy booth, open tables, or longer social tables. The decor is grey and white with splashes of colour from flowers placed upon tabletops.

This is amazing for a work canteen.