Chapter 2

DAMON

I raised my head when I heard a knock on my front door. I frowned, hoping it was not the woman I'd been with throughout last night and in the early hours of this morning. I knew I had made myself clear when I'd told her that it was a one time thing. I always make myself clear from the start.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I picked up my tie and began heading for the door. My eyebrows drew together when I saw who it was through the one way mirror. She didn't normally show up this early.

"How come you're here so early?" I asked after opening the door. I took in the way her chest seemed to be rising and falling faster than usual.

Did she actually...run?

She trolled past me, heading for what had to be becoming her favorite room in my house. I caught the sounds of spoons clinking and pondered for a moment if Shayla had actually lost her mind.

"Shayla?" I called after her, closing the door and following her to the kitchen. I glanced down at my wrist watch to make sure that it was really as early as I knew it was

"Jake let it slip that you had an early meeting with your father's lawyer this morning," She responded, picking and breaking eggs like the chef that she was.

I watched her as she took a pan from the rack, turning to give me her attention briefly. "I knew you weren't going to bother eating before leaving and there was no way I was letting that happen."

"Let me get this straight," I managed, watching her as she worked. "You left your house..Jake let you leave your house..to come cook for me?"

She gave me sheepish smile, already confirming what I knew. There was no way in hell, he would have let her leave the house if had known of her plans. It wasn't even six o'clock yet.

"Jake didn't let me leave," She said, making air quoted on 'let me' and letting out an irritated huff. "Because he doesn't need to let me do anything. I can do whatever I want."

"Yeah," I retorted, already getting annoyed. "One of these days you're also going to get yourself killed and Jake would never forgive me for it since I seem to be the driving force behind your crazy impulsions these days."

Her eyes rolled as she mixed a batter for pancake, the singular act fueling my anger and worry. I didn't know if there was anyone in the entire planet who was as stubborn as Shayla. She did what she wanted and when she wanted it.

It was something I both admired and disliked about her, and right now I was admiring it lesser and lesser.

"I'm just looking out for you," She said by way of explanation. She was already done preparing breakfast for the both of us. She poured coffee into two cups and then leaned on the counter, crossing her legs. "Am I not allowed to look out for you?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing myself to calm down. She was doing this from a place of concern after all. I just didn't like that she was doing a little too much. "No one said that Shayla, but I really need you to stop acting like I can't look after myself."

Her eyes flashed with a bit of hurt and she shifted her attention to something else. Taking in a slow breath, she put the food Ina tray and walked it to the dining table.

My phone began ringing just as I turned to follow her step. I looked at the caller, my heart dropping when I realized who it was.

Jake.

I answered his call, raising the phone to my ear. "Please tell me that Shayla's at your place," He said, a worried note in his voice. I moved my gaze to Shayla, looking meaningfully at her as I took my seat.

"She is." I answered simply. I deflated a bit at his slow exhale of relief. I didn't like that I was putting my friends in a state of worry. It was my fault for letting Shayla catch me passed out cold in the cemetery barely twelve hours after my dad had been put to rest.

"Can I talk to her?" Jake asked me. I raised my eyebrows at Shayla, picking up on the way she tensed. She'd obviously heard him. I frowned, wondering if there was more to her constantly being on my case than I'd thought.

Where things alright between her and Jake?

I passed the phone to her, not even bothering to reply to his question. Of course he could talk to her. Especially if things were tense between them.

She bit her lower lip, collecting the cellphone from my hand. I brought a slice of pancake to my mouth, trying to eat slowly. She really was a good cook.

I'd eaten half of my food already before she was done with the conversation and returned my phone back to me. "Are things okay?" My voice was a little more worried than I'd intended. "Between Jake and you?"

The room went silent for so long I thought she hadn't heard me. Her sigh suddenly echoed in the house and she stopped eating. "I'm not so sure anymore."

"Have you guys at least talked about it?" I heard myself asking. Jake and Shayla rarely had issues and whenever they did it was always over something serious, which was why I felt a little worried.

If there was anyone out there who would make me believe in the absolute fuck up that was love, then it was these two.

She finished her food, pushing her seat with the back of her knees as she got to her feet. "Not yet," She smiled a little to lighten up the mood. "But we will, so you don't have to worry about us."

Few minutes later, we were leaving my penthouse.

And yes, I was late to my meeting.

***

I stared across the table at my father's lawyer, not quite comprehending what he was trying to explain to me. Unconsciously, my fists clenched and my jaws tightened. I stared irritatedly at a blank spot wondering what the hell my father had thought when he had been writing this.

Trust the old man to still try to control me from six feet under.

George clasped his hands together on his ugly as shit desk, giving me a dry look. His facial expression showed that he would have loved to be anywhere other than with the ungrateful incompetent son of his most important client.

"I'm sorry, what?" I blurted out. He had to have been joking. Though I'm sure he wouldn't know what a joke was if it wore a rainbow coloured swimsuit and punched him in the face.

The exasperated sigh that left his lips had my pulse jumping. I glanced down at my watch wondering how long I was going to have to endure this torture.

"Your father stated clearly in his will," He gritted out with so much annoyance that I almost laughed, "That you were not going to be in possession of his properties until you were legally married and rightfully settled down." He locked gazes with me, completely his fucking speech. "For at least three years."

What the fucking hell?

I watched him lift the corners of his lips in a wicked smirk and my blood froze in my veins. The bastard wasn't done yet. He shifted his gaze to the files in front of him. "If you fail to do this before you turn twenty six, then all his properties will go to charity."

My heart stopped beating for a moment. I was turning twenty six in less than three months. I almost wished I could see my father right now. He expected me to get married in less than three months? And then say married for at least three years?

Had he lost his mind?

Did he think it was that easy to choose who I was going to be living with for the next three years?

I pushed myself angrily to my feet, undoing the top button of my jacket so I could breathe properly. "Fuck his properties," I almost yelled. "I'll be damned if I'm going to let my father control me from his bloody grave."

I moved to walk out when I heard his chuckle. My eyes shot to the floor, my body tensing. I was honestly just about three seconds away from punching his face into the ground.

He stood to his feet and took a leisure walk round his table to stand in front of me. His head moved disappointedly from side to side. "I knew you weren't going to give a shit about his will. It's not like you to be grateful for the opportunities you have at your disposal which others are so desperately searching for. "

Walk out now, Damon.

I took a step forward, choosing to ignore him. He wanted to get a reaction from me and I was determined to not give him one.

"Your mother would be disappointed in you if she saw you now."

"Don't you fucking dare talk to me about my mother!" I shot angrily, my finger raising to point at him. Before I could stop myself, I stormed to where he was, coming almost toe to toe with him. "Don't you dare cross your line with me."

He scoffed, pushing my finger away from his face. "Or what?" He taunted. "What was it that she had asked of you? To not let her and your father's struggles go to someone else." His eyes shot daggers at me. "And that's exactly what you plan on doing because you're completely blinded by your pride."

I bit my lip, drawing in a calming breath. I hated that I was even listening to him. I'd known him for more than ten years and all he'd done in those years is manipulate me. Still, I mulled his words over.

Was I really letting my pride get in the way?

What would my mother say to me if she was here right now?

I ran my hand through my hair, knowing very well what she would say to me. Marriage? I wasn't ready for marriage. I didn't think I was ever going to be ready to get married to someone.

It didn't seem like I had much of a choice now anyway.

"I'll be sure to have my assistant send you the fucking invitation letter," I practically growled, storming out if his office before I lost my cool and broke something.

Like all the bones in his freaking body.