Page 52 of Luca
“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Romi chuckled in turn.
“Well, this will be interesting,” Cormac said with a grin.
“Definitely,” Miki agreed.
The easy banter continued as the afternoon ran into evening. Laughter and stories flowed freely, and I felt the weight of the future lift just a little. With both Glowacki and the O’Briens at our side, we could offload the areas we wanted to and still retain strong allies who’d have our back. Between our new alliance and my burgeoning relationship with Claire, life was looking up. All I needed to do now was fuck up Damien Turner, get rid of the MP, and regain my freedom.
And then, life would be peaceful at last and I’d finally get the holiday I’d been dreaming of and introduce Claire to my family. Or so I hoped.
CHAPTER 29
CLAIRE
MONDAY – THREATS AND INTIMIDATION
As I stepped into the office building on Monday morning, the weight of dread settled in my stomach. The air felt charged, thick with anticipation and unspoken accusations. I hadn’t slept well last night, the thought of facing Damien Turner again making me uneasy.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Luca had asked before I left this morning, concern etched on his handsome face. He’d been fantastic over the weekend, passionate, supportive, and caring. Everything I could want in a man.
“No,” I had replied firmly, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. “I need to handle this on my own. Besides, Vlad will be there. I’ll be fine.”
The truth was, I didn’t want Luca in the crosshairs of whatever chaos was about to unfold and it would only make matter worse if he was there. I knew he was itching to protect me, but this was my fight, and I had to face it head-on. If I was going to continue working with Damien, I needed to show him I still had backbone and that his little stunt hadn’t dented my steely nature. Even if it had, just a little.
With my resolve in place and Vlad at my side, I felt a little more grounded, though the knot of anxiety in my chest refused to loosen. I made my way to my office, each step echoing in my mind. As I approached the door, I caught sight of Damien’s office—shuttered and quiet. He was likely nursing his injuries. I wondered for the millionth time since Friday night what he’d told his mother. Surely he wouldn’t tell her the truth. No, he’d make up some other story. But what? So long as it didn’t involve me, or Luca, I didn’t care.
Just as I settled into my chair, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Margaret Turner’s secretary, asking me to come her office. My stomach dropped. What did Damien’s mother want? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
As I walked into her office, I braced myself for impact. The room was filled with polished wood and expensive art—everything about it screamed power and prestige.
A movement to the side caught my eye, and I glanced towards it. My stomach dropped further.
“Why are you here?” I asked Lady Frost who was sitting, arms folded, face neutral, watching me intently.
“I’m here as a friend, Claire,” she replied, her slight smile and syrupy tone not giving me any comfort.
Of course, how could I forget that’s it was her connections to the Turner’s that got me my job here in the first place.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” She gestured to the chair a few feet from her own.
A flicker of uncertainty filled me. What was going on?
She signed. “I’ve been a close family friend of both you and the Turner’s for years, I came to offer my support.”
Support? For what? And to whom?
My gaze flicked to Margaret, sitting behind her imposing desk, arms crossed, her expression a mixture of anger and disappointment.
“Claire,” she said, her voice sharp, “sit down.”
I took a seat, trying to maintain my composure. What had that bloody bastard son of hers told her? “Margaret, I don’t know?—”
“Don’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “Let’s cut to the chase. What happened with Damien was unacceptable.” Maybe he’d told her the truth after all. Or someone else had. Either way, relief washed through me.
“Your behaviour was intolerable.” Wait, what?
My behaviour?I clenched my jaw, fury threatening to overcome me.
“Margaret. I don’t know what he told you, but I didn’t?—”