It’s time to get ready for war.
CHAPTER 14
ALAINA
The clubhouse feels smaller tonight,suffocating. Smoke curls in lazy ribbons toward the ceiling, the scent of whiskey thick in the air. Voices murmur in low conversations, the occasional burst of laughter breaking through, but I can’t focus on any of it.
Not when my world feels like it’s closing in.
I sit on the worn leather couch in the common room, staring at nothing. Damian is across the room, talking low with a few of his guys. His posture is loose, easy, like what happened earlier didn’t rattle him in the slightest. Like he didn’t just threaten my grandfather with a gun. Like he didn’t just show me exactly how dangerous he is.
I can’t stop seeing it—the way he smirked when those men pulled their weapons, how he laughed like he had nothing to lose. Like he didn’t care if he died. Fearless men are dangerous.
And maybe that’s the part that scares me the most.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to shake the feeling off. But it lingers. Heavy. Unrelenting.
I’m in over my head.
I need air.
Pushing off the couch, I weave through the room and head for the door. The cool night air hits me like a shock, crisp against my overheated skin. I inhale deep, sucking it into my lungs like it might be enough to ground me.
Footsteps sound behind me.
I don’t have to turn to know it’s Damian.
“You running outside like this, people are gonna think you’re trying to leave,” he says casually, stepping up beside me.
I keep my eyes forward. “Maybe I am.”
I feel his gaze on me, burning. “You’re not.”
I shake my head, exhaling sharply. “You don’t know that.”
He lets out a short laugh, but there’s no real humor in it. “Yeah, I do.”
I finally look at him, irritation sparking. “And how’s that?”
Damian tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Because you had a choice back there, Alaina. You could’ve walked out of The Velvet Hall and told me to kick rocks. You could have stayed right there with your grandfather and told me to never look back.” He leans in slightly, his voice lower. “But you didn’t.”
My stomach twists. “That doesn’t mean I’m okay with what happened.”
His jaw tightens, a flicker of something dangerous passing over his face. “Good.”
I blink. “Good?”
“I don’t want you to be okay with it,” he says, his voice rough. “You shouldn’t be. Because this isn’t some fairytale, Alaina. This isn’t a world where things magically fix themselves, where the right choice is always easy to make.” His gaze darkens. “This is a world where you do what needs to be done. Even if it makes you sick. Even if it haunts you. Even if you have to take a life to save the life of someone you care about.”
A chill runs through me, but I force myself to hold his stare.
“I don’t want to be a part of this world, Chux,” I admit. “I don’t want to be standing here, trying to untangle the fact that my grandfather—the man who raised me—has been lying to me for years.” My throat tightens. “I don’t want to know that you can pull a gun on someone and laugh about it like it’s nothing.”
Damian doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away. “You think I laughed because I don’t care?” His voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it, sharp as a blade. “I laughed because I know men like him. I know the way they think, the way they move, the way they manipulate. And the only thing men like that respect is force.”
My stomach clenches. “And what about you?”
He exhales through his nose. “What about me?”