Page 41 of Double Daddies
The penthouse office sprawled across one corner of the top floor. Its opulence was striking even through Elle’s fear-clouded vision. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around three sides, offering a panoramic view of Houston’s glittering nightscape. The helicopter pad, her crime scene, stood visible from this vantage point. The pink-and-silver paint looked garish even from way up here.
She quickly stepped back from the window as Drake released her elbow. He strode toward a black marble wet bar that dominated one corner. Damian moved to the opposite side of the room, leaving Elle standing awkwardly in the center. She felt small against the backdrop of power and wealth.
Dark hardwood floors were partially covered by thick Persian rugs in deep shades of gold and bronze. Two massive mahogany desks faced each other at opposite ends of the space, each bearing sleek laptops and minimal decorations. The symmetry spoke of two men used to sharing power equally.
A sitting area occupied the center of the room, featuring black leather couches and chrome-accented furniture arranged around a glass coffee table. Modern art pieces in stark black and gold adorned the walls. Their abstract forms somehow added to the intimidating atmosphere.
The lighting was subtle but effective, creating pools of warmth in strategic areas while leaving others in shadow. The overall effect was one of calculated luxury, chosen to project power and control.
Elle glanced down at her paint-stained hands and clothes, painfully aware of how out of place she looked in this pristine environment. She winced as she watched pink paint dripping onto the expensive flooring. Each drop felt like another nail in her coffin.
“Sit.” Drake’s command echoed through the space as he gestured toward one of the leather couches.
“I’ve got wet paint all?—”
“Sit, Elle.”
Trembling at the dark warning in his voice, she sank into the soft leather, beyond protesting or trying to explain. From this position, both men towered over her.
“Just don’t add damaging your leather couch to my list of crimes,” she said under her voice.
With a grunt, Drake poured three fingers of amber liquid into two crystal tumblers while Damian remained standing with his arms crossed, staring out the window at her artistic destruction below.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Drake’s voice was deceptively calm as he handed Damian his drink and turned to face her.
Elle’s throat went dry. “I?—”
“That helicopter,” Damian cut in, still focused on the brightly painted chopper below, “cost twenty-five million dollars.”
The room spun slightly. Elle gripped the leather cushion to steady herself.Twenty-five million!She had defaced twenty-five million dollars worth of aircraft with pink paint and pastry doodles.Pink fucking donuts!
“The repainting alone will cost six figures.” Drake moved closer, looming over her. “Not to mention the specialized cleaning needed and repainting of the helipad. You’ve managed to create quite an expensive tantrum, Miss Fitzgerald.”
“I’ll pay—” Elle started, then stopped herself. The absurdity of that offer hung in the air.
“With what money?” Damian finally turned. His expression remained unreadable. “The bakery you’re losing?”
Elle flinched. “I know it was stupid and irresponsible, but I was angry and hurt and?—”
“And decided criminal damage was the appropriate response?” Drake took a slow sip of his whiskey. “Tell me, what would you do if we decide to call the police and press charges?”
Tears burned behind her eyes. “Please don’t.”
“Please don’t what?” Damian moved to stand beside Drake. “Don’t have you arrested? Don’t press charges that could land you in prison? Don’t destroy your future the way you just destroyed our property?”
Elle’s hands trembled in her lap. She noticed in passing how the dried pink paint was flaking off her skin.
“I’ll do anything,” she whispered. “Please, just... I can’t go to jail.”
The men exchanged a look that made her stomach flip.
“Anything?” Drake set his glass down with deliberate slowness. “That’s quite an offer, little baker.”
The way he said ‘little baker’ sent shivers down her spine. To her surprise, even despite her fear, they were not entirely unpleasant ones.
“Perhaps,”—Damian’s voice dropped lower—“we should discuss that proposal we offered now. Though I daresay Drake has changed the terms significantly since your... artistic expression.”
Elle swallowed hard, looking between the two powerful men. Whatever they had planned for her, she had a feeling her life was about to change dramatically.
