Faking it with Damian Black novel (Millie)



-DAMIAN-

"What the hell?" I murmured when Gian walked into the interrogation room.

My transfer from the holding cell to this isolated room was fucking strange from the beginning. They locked me up with seven other people when they took me into custody. Once Detective Fraser uncuffed me and left, the men inside the cell ganged up on me, hence the bruises all over my body.

It's the same reason 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.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

There was dried blood on my shirt, and from the painful pulsing on my chest, I might have a broken rib.

"The fuck 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 gave me water 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 ass on it; his assertive eyes made me uncomfortable.

"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 reminded me of 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 lips curled when pain shot through my left side.

I definitely have a broken rib. Fucking hell.

Tongue pressed into the inside of my cheeks, I continued. "You're not a police officer, not a legal counsel. Again, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Each encounter I had with Gian made me more intrigued by his true identity. His appearance here shuffled the puzzle pieces I've put in place from Mon's investigation, generating more riddles I needed to solve.

He has the influence 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 time for 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 fluttered. 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 fucking 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.

"You were at the cafe when I was talking to Sonja," I muttered, my mind gears shifting into overdrive.

Curiosity flickered in his eyes. "Now you're getting it, keep going."

"Why the fuck did you show those photographs to Millicent?" I growled, clenching my fist. If only I knew who he was or how deep his connection was in this police department, I would've already reached over this table, grabbed his head, and slammed his face on the table for what he'd done. God knows how badly I needed a volunteer punching bag. Gian was a good candidate.

"Payback," he shrugged.

"Payback?" I scowled. "For what?"

"For sticking your nose into my business," he said flatly, plucking a strip from the double mint and unwrapping the gum. He tossed it in his mouth and chewed begrudgingly. He leaned on his seat, threw an arm backward on the chair, and spread his legs wide as though this conversation was boring him to death. "I was tempted to kill that investigator friend of yours; good thing he stopped where I wanted him to."

My heartbeat gained speed. He knew we'd been doing a background on him? Mon was the best in this field. He had ties in the military, and he even did gigs for the CIA.

Who the fuck is this man? I have to be mindful of what I say to him.

"Relax. I promised not to kill anybody for a long time." He rested his elbows on the table, jaw clenching and unclenching. "But I need you to up your game, Damian. You've done an excellent job of keeping Millicent safe, but your people fucked it up." My entire body froze. "What do you mean?"

Extreme, violent thoughts filled my head. Danny got a copy of Sonja's record from the hospital. It would need a miracle to pull her out of her vegetable state, but Sonja was a fighter. I know she will pull through, but the thought of Millicent in the same situation as Sonja. It fucking scares me to death.

"Millicent had been taken right under your man's nose," he said, his voice gruff.

Shivers slithered down my spine. My bones turned to jelly as I slumped back in my seat. At that moment, my world crumbled beneath my feet. I am here, locked up, and I can't do anything to save Millicent. I promised I would protect her, and I failed.

"You love her." Gian broke through my train of thought. I haven't labeled what I felt for Millicent, but if the idea of not seeing her again scared the shit out of me is called love, then maybe. "Don't worry. I came here so you could save her.""

Through my hazy vision, I glared at Gian. What game was he playing? Was he recording this conversation to use against me?

"Time is running out, and it's all up to you to save her," he said, as if I hadn't heard him the first time.

"You want me to escape?" I didn't hide the incredulity in my voice anymore. I didn't trust this man, and his endgame was becoming an enigma the more time I spent with him.

"I know you could do that, but I also know you wouldn't, so I bailed you out." He reached into the chest pocket of his jacket and slapped a paper on the table. It was folded in three.

I stared at him in disbelief after reading the document. My lawyer said the quickest way he could bail me out of here would be two or three days more. Judge Leighright was a hard man to find, and then here comes Gian, not even twenty-four hours after my arrest, bailing me out.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, still doubtful of his intentions. "Why not save her yourself? You have feelings for her. This would make you look good."

He tilted his head to the side. "You're right. But this isn't about me, is it? This is about Millicent's safety."

He picked up the cigarette, lighter, and pack of chewing gum, shoving them back in his pocket, and rose to his feet.

"What's the catch?" I pressed, unwilling to let the topic go. "What do you want in return?"

He stared at me through the tip of his nose, smirking. "Make Millicent happy; that's enough for me." He walked towards the door and looked at me over his shoulder. "You have to be careful with your next move, Damian. Someone is backing up whoever took Millicent. They also have your ex. If you could save them both, do it. But Millicent is your top priority. That isn't a request."