Chapter 6 - The Man Beneath the Suit
Three weeks passed.
Doyle's network collapsed quickly once Warren began cooperating with investigators.
Anthony recovered slowly.
Elena returned to her apartment.
The heater worked.
She noticed immediately.
She called Damian.
"You fixed my heater."
"No."
"Damian."
"I may have purchased the building."
Elena went silent.
"You did what?"
"The landlord was difficult."
"You bought my apartment building because my heater was broken?"
"The building."
"That's worse!"
"The heating system needed replacement."
"Damian Moretti."
"I like when you use my full name."
She hung up.
He called back.
She rejected it.
He called again.
She answered.
"What?"
"Dinner."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you bought my building."
"I can sell it."
"To whom?"
"Someone with reliable heating."
Elena rubbed her forehead.
"You're impossible."
"Seven tonight."
"That's not how asking works."
A pause.
Then, awkwardly:
"Elena Marsh, would you have dinner with me tonight?"
She smiled despite herself.
"Better."
"Is that yes?"
"One dinner."
He arrived without bodyguards at the restaurant.
At least none Elena could see.
Damian wore a simple black shirt.
The tattoos on his hands remained visible.
For once, he looked less like a headline and more like the wounded man from the bench.
They ordered.
Damian stared suspiciously at the menu.
Elena noticed.
"What?"
"I've never had turkey and cheap cheese."
She laughed.
"You literally ate it three weeks ago."
"I was dying."
"You're dramatic."
"You told me I was thirty seconds from passing out."
"You were."
He became quiet.
"Why did you really feed me?"
Elena put down her fork.
"You want the sentimental answer?"
"No."
"Good, because there isn't one."
She thought for a moment.
"My dad used to say people make kindness too complicated. If someone's hungry and you have food, you share it."
"Where is he?"
"Dead."
Damian lowered his gaze.
"I'm sorry."
"It was six years ago."
"Still."
Elena nodded.
Then she asked, "Why did you come back?"
"The next morning?"
"Yes."
"You could've sent money."
"I did."
"I refused it."
"I remember."
"Why come personally?"
Damian was silent for several seconds.
"Because nobody had done something for me without wanting something in return for a very long time."
Elena studied him.
"And that bothered you."
"Terrified me."
She smiled.
"Finally. Something scares Damian Moretti."
"You."
The smile disappeared.
He wasn't joking.
"Why?"
"Because I know how to deal with enemies."
He leaned closer.
"I have no idea what to do with someone who sees me bleeding and doesn't ask what I'm worth."
Elena's voice softened.
"You could start by not investigating her bank account."
"I've learned that."
"Or buying her building."
"Still negotiating that lesson."
She laughed.
Damian watched her.
And for the first time, the hunger Elena had noticed in his eyes wasn't frightening.
It wasn't possession.
It was loneliness.
"Damian."
"Yes?"
"You still owe me half a sandwich."
"I can afford better."
"That's not the point."
"Then tomorrow."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Tomorrow?"
"Same bench."
"In the rain?"
"Preferably not."
Elena smiled.
"Bring turkey."
"Cheap cheese?"
May you like
"Obviously."
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