Faking it with Damian Black by Louise Jane

Chapter 55

-DAMIAN-

“What the hell?” I murmured when Gian walked into the interrogation room

My transfer from the holding cell to this isolated room was f ucking strange from

the beginning. They lockedup with seven other people when they took me

into custody. Once Detective Fraser uncuffedand left, the men inside the

cell ganged up on me, hence the bruises all over my b*dy.

It’s the sreason I didn’t want Millicent or any of my family to see me. They’ll

worry about my safety. I could handle a beating. I’ve handled more in the last

couple of years, but seeing Millicent distraught and worrying for my safety,

that’s something I don’t think I could deal with, especially when I’m behind bars.

“Is that a new trend?” Gian drew a circle over his face, his eyes counting all the

purple bruises visible on my arms.

There was dried blood on my shirt, and from the painful pulsing on my chest, I

might have a broken rib.

“The f uck are you doing here?” The interrogation room had a long table in the

middle, two metal chairs, and a huge one- way mirror covering one wall. They

gavewater and didn’t secure my hand in cuffs. I prepared myself for the

worst, but this was definitely an unexpected plot twist.

Gian dragged the empty chair from the table and plonked his a ss on it; his

assertive eyes madeuncomfortable.

“Wrong question,” he said, taking out a cigarette pack, lighter, and a packet of

chewing gum from his jacket pocket and setting it on the table. His leather

jacket, black shirt, faded jeans, and boots remindedof an undercover spy

agent in movies. Even the way Gian carried himself inside the room felt like he’d

done this before.

“It’s past visiting hours, and I specifically requested not to let anyone visit me

except for my assistant and attorney.” I murmured, refusing to cave under his

intimidating gaze. I crossed my arms, my l*ps curled when pain shot through my

left side.

I definitely have a broken rib. F ucking hell.

Tongue pressed into the inside of my cheeks. I continued. “You’re not a police

officer, not a legal counsel. Again, what the f uck are you doing here?”

Each encounter I had with Gian mademore intrigued by his true identity. His

appearance here shuffied the puzzle pieces I’ve put in place from Mon’s

investigation, generating more riddles I needed to solve.

He has the infiuence a regular citizen does not have. He is above the law, or he

has someone inside the Roslin City Police Department, but the question still

remains: why is he here?

“You’re not asking the right questions.” Stretching his arms forward, he lit a stick

from the cigarette pack. Drawing a huge breath, he blew it out, the scent of

burning tobacco filling the room.

“I don’t have tfor your games,” I said dismissively.

He laughed, trapping the cigarette with his thumb and forefinger and setting it

down on the ashtray. Smoke danced upward from the cigarette as Gian’s

laughter died down, “If you don’t change your tactics, all you’ll ever have is time

to digest how you messed up this chance, Damian Black.”

My jaw fiuttered. I hate that he was right. He holds the upper hand, and I need

to play it cool and play my cards right. “How is Millicent doing?”

From the look on his face, that was still the wrong question. He looked stunned,

amused. I’m glad one of us finds this situation amusing, not. “I’m here because

of her.”

Agitated, I groaned. I know she wanted to see me. Hell, I wanted to see her. I f u

cking missed her, but I didn’t expect her to ask for Gian’s help. She knew how

much I despised this man. My conversation with him about the photos he gave

Millicent was long overdue. Then it hit me.

|||

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