23. Damien

My anger is blinding. Controlling. Pulsing inside my veins, turning my vision black. I'm at her apartment before I can fucking blink. My fist smashing against the door, awaiting that facade of innocence always etched on Tatiana's face.

I pound until my knuckles are raw, and the asshole next door peaks his head out to mutter profanity. That is, until I threaten to knock the cigarette out of his fucking mouth. My arm falls loosely to my side.

"Fuck!" I bellow, before briskly walking back to my car. I throw the door open, almost wrenching it off the hinges and slide inside. I pat my pockets, and groan. I smashed my damn phone.

I let my head drop forward, falling against the steering wheel as I attempt to calm my breathing. Inhaling deeply, I release my hands from fists and sliding my sweating palms along my pants. Lifting my head, I pull the car out into the road and drive aimlessly.

I find myself parked at the entrance of the cemetery. Unmoving, a panicked feeling rises within me, and I gasp for air, sweat beading my forehead. I swore I'd never come here, not anymore. Not again. Not after what he did... god. The thought sickens me.

I throw the gear shift into drive and decide the safest bet is to go back to the office. Go back to Kassandra's anger, and Tatiana's bullshit.

I'm at the office in minutes, jumping out of the car, I storm in through the front door. Kass looks up from Mila's desk as she stands, hunched over it with a phone pressed to her ear.

"What the hell's going on?"

"Mila, she - she stormed out. She's pretty pissed." Kass blurts quickly, as she bangs her fingers against the buttons on the phone. "I should've just kept my mouth shut. I shouldn't have involved myself in shit that revolves around you two."

"Slow down," I demand, reaching for the phone, pulling it out of her grasp and setting it back down. "What is going on?" I repeat slowly, hoping to coax her with wide, calmer eyes. She nods, smoothing back her hair and sighing heavily.

"Did you resolve things with Tatiana?" She answered, completely ignoring my probing question. I grit my teeth and shake my head. She whistles, as she takes a sharp breath and steps back.

"Miss Rhodes, I have Celia Jackson on the phone insisting she speak with you." At the mention of a major client, Kass stiffens, before she casts me one more glance.

"You better fix things, Damien." She points a demanding finger at me before sauntering after her secretary. I slam my fist down onto Mila's desk, and run my tongue along my teeth before clenching my jaw.

I pick up the phone and dial Mila's number, cursing when she doesn't answer. Kass never answered my damn question. What the hell is with all these women not being direct with me? I fucking hate that. They have no problem any other fucking time.

"Damien?" Kass's voice calling my name grabs my attention. I set the phone down, and direct my attention to her. She waves me to her. "Emergency meeting with Mrs. Jackson. She wants to rip up the contract, says she found proof of infidelity. It voids the prenup in place."

I stifle a groan, and drag a hand through my hair. Nodding, I straighten my suit, smoothing out the surfaces so I don't appear incredibly unkempt.

I follow suit of Kass, closing the conference room door behind me.

"Where the hell is Mila?"

Kass shakes her head and points to the phone. Fuck. Celia Jackson utters a muffled confused noise on the other end, and I realize there's no having a discussion about what is up with Kass. Or where Mila is with my phone. I feel my anger and anxiety creeping up, and like the good by I was beat into, I smother the feeling and address Celia with a tone of voice that's faker than the secretary's tit job.

***
After the conference call, Kass is summoned once again by another needy fucking client. I wave her away, unable to deal with the bullshit any longer, and too eager to check my messages.

I'm disappointed when I haven't received any from Mila. Kass quickly alerts me between meetings that Mila went home sick. I'm cut off when I try to get more out of her. All she does is bark for me to leave Mila alone for a little.

It takes everything in me not to jump up and run the fuck out of the office. Maybe she's just spooked because of my behavior earlier. The rage in me was uncontrollable, and I understand her apprehension. 
I channel my energy into contacting Tatiana, which again proves to be a dead end.

Fuck, all I want to do is channel my stress into my playroom. Into her body, but the clock creaks slowly like the universe is fucking toying with me.

When it finally reaches past six, and I'm done delving into my work, I firm my lips, grab my keys and head out to the club.

Images of her legs spread, skin red and raw and mouth slack as she comes, span across my mind. I realize I'm clenching the steering wheel hard enough to turn my knuckles white.

When I get to the club, I jump out of the car, tossing my keys to the valet before ascending the steps. After I gain access inside, I nod, not lingering to listen to other members pretentious bullshit. Not when I have one thing on my mind.

Mila.

That's what I love about this club. It makes me forget all else and focus on the purely physical.

I scan the crowd, my eyes coming up empty as I pad my way to my playroom. I imagine her waiting for me, mouth warm and wet and eager to swallow my cock.

I push the door open, descending the stairs, careful to calm myself. I want this to last. To take every moment and claim Mila in ways she couldn't even fucking imagine.

The rooms empty when I move inside. My disappointment is outshined by my worry. I figured she'd been upset by my outburst, but I knew she'd be here. Or so I thought. I again pat my pockets looking for my phone and curse.

"Fucking eh!" I swivel around, stalking up and out of the club, climbing into my car.

I'm driving to Mila's before I have to collect my thoughts. The urgency of my foot on the pedal, is heightened by a mocking list of worse case scenarios.

When I get to her house, I'm pounding on the door, a startling sense of deja vu settling in my gut. 

"Mila!" I call.

"She's not here," a gritty voice responds from down the next door over. I quirk a brow, dropping my hand, peering down at the four foot, elderly woman waving at me. She frowns. "So you can stop pounding on the damn door."

I hold up my hands in defeat, before rubbing the back of my neck. "Uh, do you happen to know where she went?"

"Her and some guy walked off."

Some guy... Cole?

Suppressing my anger, I form a small smile, hoping to mask my emotions.

"What direction was that?"

She gestures to the street and waves in a general direction, while blowing raspberries. "I don't know, down the street."

That's fucking great. I huff angrily, managing to mutter a thanks before I take off down the road.

"Try the local bar, or anywhere that sells condoms out of a vending machine!" She hollers and snickers. I tense, swallowing the profanity on my tongue. I meet my first cluster of stores, browsing over the glass with probing eyes, coming up short. I doubt they'd go into a Prada shop, tattoo parlor, or olive oil vendor.

The first bar I see, I hesitate. What the fuck am I doing? I've never really uh... cared this much. Shit.

"No," I growl as I peer through the door and my eyes land on Mila. "I don't fucking share." I hiss, and pull open the door, sauntering inside. She doesn't see me at first, drawn in to something that asshole has said. She places her hand on his arm and tosses her head back, cackling like he's a stand up fucking comedian, but I'm not impressed.

He grins, biting his lip and shrugging like he's fucking down to earth but I know he wants what all other men want. To enter her, roughly. Claim her, like she's his to claim.

The word 'mine' slams around my skull, and I shove down my surprise as I near them.

"Hey, baby," I greet, watching as Mila's head swivels to the side and she doesn't have time to shield her look of surprise. Her eyes widen, and she drops her hand down to her side.

"Damien," she breathes and her voice does the same thing it always does, causing the animal inside of me to awaken. I feel my pants tighten around my cock, and I loop my arm behind her lower back and move in for a kiss.

Her lips are soft, relinquishing, as I claim the supple flesh between my teeth, pulling away gentle to suck and release her lip before I turn to face the dick face before us.

He doesn't smile. Neither do I. I'm not going to pretend this is some friendly meet and greet. I've made it clear where I stand.

Mila is mine.

And he's pissed.

I fucking glow in that revelation.