Aaron walked to the balcony access doors and closed them. The truth was, he did not like places too airy.
"I never lived in this house, Little Angel," he replied.
"What?"
"We lived in New York, and when my parents moved, I decided to stay," Aaron murmured, not very interested.
He used a control to close the automatic curtains, and once again the lovely lady found herself impressed by the modernity of the house. Not that it was unusual, but she liked how every detail in the Granger mansion seemed to be well-planned.
"Your life sounds interesting," Elena commented.
She sat on Aaron's bed, which was covered by a blue sheet. The color was very similar to the man's eyes, and perh
"I promise by all that I am, Little Angel. When things go wrong, you won't be with me. I will be the only one to pay for the secrets I've chosen to keep," Aaron wished he wasn't so rooted in that feeling. He wished he could simply shut it off, as he had done before. He wanted to extinguish the flame in his heart, but he couldn't. It was too late not to feel, even though it was too dangerous to feel. "When you find out who I really am, I hope you've forgotten my name," the man couldn't resist. He ran his fingers through Elena's hair, unaware of how intense the touch was for her. Then, Aaron hugged her. The woman's back was pressed against his chest, and only the comforter between them prevented him from feeling her warmth. And yet, he held her against his flesh as if she were a lifeline. "You're my angel, but I don't expect to be saved in this life."
"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," Damon quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm as Elena reached the bottom step. Without a word, Damon gestured towards the waiting car, a sleek black sedan idling at the curb, its windows tinted to obscure the view inside. Elena hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between Damon and the ominous vehicle, a silent harbinger of the unknown horrors that awaited them. As Elena descended the staircase, each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of impending doom settling like a leaden cloak around her shoulders. Damon waited impatiently at the bottom, his demeanor exuding a sense of controlled menace that sent a chill down Elena's spine. "Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," Damon
"I'm just... commenting," he was sarcastic in his response. "We are the same, Volkov, we did the same thing. If I decide to destroy you, the same happens to me. And guess what? The opposite is also true," Aaron felt that all the shots of tequila he had drunk weren't enough, so he decided to fill his glass once more. The bottle was already halfway gone when he placed it back on the table. Granger didn't even feel the burn of the drink going down his throat. "I killed Benedict, George destroyed the evidence, one of my men disposed of the body, and you kept the secret under wraps, taking over your family's company and protecting everyone, including me. Who is worse, Aaron?" Those conversations between Volkov and Granger were commonplace. They always spoke explicitly about crimes because if either of them were record
After a few seconds, Aaron tore his eyes away from the frame. He knew that all this investigation, like the ones before it, was focused on his family. He took a seat in one of the chairs opposite Spencer's desk. The environment was much more familiar than he deemed prudent. "You were present the night Benedict died," the inspector accused. Granger reclined in the uncomfortable chair. His superior posture remained unshakeable, despite being out of his comfort zone. Aaron twirled the silver ring on his middle finger before looking at Spencer and saying: "Prove it." "You'll rot in a fetid cell, I promise." "Put me in the cell, then" just like the inspector, Aaron knew how to provoke. Granger's blue eyes sparkled with challenge. The way he joked with Spencer whenever he could made the inspector's hatred increase. Aaron knew that the police were far from fully discovering the truth, and he wouldn't be the one to put his cards on the table. "Why was Benedict killed?" Spencer asked,
"Some pills, perhaps," the woman replied nonchalantly. That answer made the man lose his breathing rhythm. His concern was replaced by anger. Aaron closed his eyes and took a deep breath, just to keep from shouting all the curses he knew, in all the languages he knew. However, when he spoke again, his calm still seemed to have not returned. "What the fuck? Did you get drugged?" "Not just me. Anastasia too" she replied. "Where are you, my angel?" Aaron tried not to get upset, because he knew self-control was his best quality. "I don't know. Maybe Manhattan? Aaron, I need to shut down. My mind is spiraling," Elena communicated, and then smiled again. That sound would be like classical music to a man's ears, if there weren't large doses of alcohol in the female voice. "Don't you dare hang up" he threatened, using a tone of voice that would certainly intimidate a sober Elena, but not this drunk Elena. "You can't force me. In fact, you don't care. You don't even like me" despite be
She kissed his jaw, then moved down to his throat. Elena rested her hands on Granger's chest, digging her nails with little pressure into the fabric of his skin. Meanwhile, her mouth continued to take him to heaven. "Don't go beyond what you can handle," Aaron whispered. It was a threat, but it served to add gasoline to the fire that consumed Elena. She kissed Aaron's muscular chest, sliding her tongue against his skin exquisitely. And all the pressure of the moment was too much for the man. He couldn't wait any longer, so he grabbed Elena's arm again and turned against the door. She allowed him to exert absolute control over her body. Granger undid the tie on her robe, and saw the thin fabric fall like a veil at the woman's feet. Elena was beautiful from every angle, but the man had to admit that that angle was privileged. He noticed some redness on her skin, right where her palm hit it. Therefore, Aaron massaged the area as gently as possible. God forbid he should tarnish her
MEXICO. HOTEL ROOM.Toc. Toc.Damon's senses slowly emerged from the fog of sleep as the persistent knocks on the door pierced through his consciousness. He turned to his side and saw Kisha, her peaceful form nestled beside him. Her brown locks cascaded gently over the pillow, reminiscent of Elena's, yet distinctly different.More knocks followed, each one amplifying the pounding ache in his head."I'm coming, damn it," Damon grumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep and the remnants of last night's indulgence in alcohol.In recent days, Damon had found solace in the numbing embrace of liquor, drowning his troubles in a haze of intoxication. The clarity of sobriety had become a rare luxury, elusive amidst the whirlwind of chaos that had engulfed his life.Toc. Toc.Another insistent rap echoed through the room, disrupting the heavy silence that hung in the air like a suffocating shroud.With a grunt of impatience, Damon stumbled out of bed, his limbs heavy with fatigue and the weight of
"What are you reading?" she decided to ask.The beautiful woman walked into the office. Aaron made space between the chair and table so she could sit on his lap. He closed the leather book and placed it on the wood, ending his reading.Granger's office was modern, but it had personal details that the rest of the house did not have. The pictures on the wall had color and life. The portraits on the table recalled happy moments with his mother. It was as if, unlike any other room, this one was special.Elena approached the man and sat across his legs, putting one of her arms around his shoulders."Gustave Flaubert" he replied."French romance" the incredulity in the woman's tone was clear. She couldn't believe someone like Aaron was interested in romance."All French works have a romantic content," he explained, shrugging.Elena smiled, and then Aaron was sure that smile could light up the whole city. The closeness between them was frightening for both of them, and they were afraid of wh