Ingrid's heart pounded as the two of them ran down the silent streets of Washington. She couldn't believe what she'd just seen. Did Damien, her boss, really just change into a wolf and fight…other wolves? What the hell was going on?
But as they ran, Ingrid knew she wasn't going to get any answers out of Damien until the two of them got back home. So, she resigned herself to running hand-in-hand with Damien, hurrying back to the house in Georgetown. As they ran, Ingrid spotted on Damien's neck a long streak, dark and red with blood.
"You're hurt," said Ingrid as they hurried along.
"It's nothing," said Damien.
"How do you know that? You barely stopped to even look at it!"
"Because it doesn't hurt, and even if it did, we don't have time to do anything but get home. Who knows how many more of those assholes are out here looking for us?"
"Why…why are they doing this? Why are wolves trying to kill us?"
"They're trying to kill me, not you. And no more questions until we get home!"
Ingrid could tell that Damien's temper was right on the verge of exploding once again, and she didn't want to be the target of it, especially with how much adrenaline must've been pounding through his system.
They eventually arrived back at the house, and Ingrid never thought she'd be so happy to see the place, especially after only living there for a little under a week. Once inside, Damien found the babysitter and hurriedly went through his wallet to pay her and send her off.
"Adeline was great, Mr. Kennedy; she's in bed now," said the woman. "Calm and quiet as usual. And – oh my God, are you bleeding?"
"It's nothing," said Damien.
"Um, he had a few too many and fell over on the way back," said Ingrid.
Damien flashed her a look that seemed to say: "Really? That's the best excuse you can come up with?"
Ingrid shrugged as Damien pulled out a loose assortment of bill's and shoved them into the woman's hands. The babysitter looked down at them in shock; it was clearly far more than she was anticipating.
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Kennedy; thank you so much!"
"Sure, sure," said Damien, hurrying the woman out the front door.
Once she was gone, Damien pulled off his shirt and looked over the wound. It didn't look too bad to Ingrid; nothing but a surface cut. He went over to his liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle of vodka and, standing over the sink, poured the alcohol over the cut, wincing as he did.
"I'll get the first aid kit," said Ingrid, hurrying off to the bathroom.
She returned moments later with the kit in hand; fumbling through it, she found the gauze and set to work taping up Damien's wound. And as she did, she couldn't help but let her eyes fall onto the ropey muscles of his exposed upper body. Just like she was sure was the case with Damien, adrenaline pounded through her body; Ingrid felt like she was on some kind of strange drug.
"Now," she said, her voice a more demanding tone than she'd ever heard out of her mouth before. "Tell me what the hell is going on!"
But Damien clearly wasn't in the mood to answer questions. He looked her up and down with hungry eyes, as if he wanted to turn back into his wolf form and set into her right then and there. Ingrid stepped back, noticing that his eyes were no longer his usual blue, but that same striking gold color that she'd noticed the night they'd first slept together.
He…must've shifted then, too, she thought. When we fucked before, he was half-wolf, half-man!
The thought did nothing but turn Ingrid on more than she ever imagined possible. As if reading her mind, Damien shot toward her with inhumanly quick speed and grabbed onto her hips. He looked down at her with those brilliant golden eyes, those eyes that seemed to glow with a strange, irresistible energy. She knew at that moment that he could do whatever he wanted with her.
And judging from the way he looked at her, that's exactly what he had in mind. He stared hard into her eyes, seeming to size her up like she was his next meal. Ingrid felt small and helpless in his grip, like there was nothing she could do, even if she wanted to. It was strange, the way he looked at her. There was the animal hunger she recognized from their previous love-making, but there was something else, too. It was something like concern, maybe even a little worry. And the way he held her wasn't just about keeping her in his grasp, it was about keeping her safe, and protected. Ingrid felt safe and thrilled, all at the same time.
"What are you going to do?" asked Ingrid, her voice coming out small, helpless.
"You know exactly what I'm going to do," said Damien, his own voice a low growl.
"Then do it."
That was all he needed to hear. Damien quickly moved his head toward Ingrid's neck, his lips locking onto the delicate skin just below her jaw. He began kissing her hard and fast, covering her neck in kisses, the sensation sending a wild thrill down Ingrid's spine.
"Oh, God," she moaned as she ran her fingers through Damien's thick hair.
He continued to growl as he kissed her, his hands moving up and down her body as though there wasn't a single bit of her he wanted to go ignored. Locked in an embrace, the two of them moved toward the back of the room, onto the balcony and into the cool night air, the pool glittering under the backyard lights below them.
Damien's hands moved down to the line of Ingrid's dress, and she quickly shot her hands back to help take the thing off before he tore it to shreds…though part of her was more than turned on by the idea. Once the dress was undone, Damien pulled it off with a hard yank, bringing it down past her waist and down her legs. Soon, Ingrid was in nothing but the black lace bra and panty set she wore. The air was slightly chilly on her skin, but the heat from Damien's body soon warmed her right up.
"Goddamn," he said, looking at her body as he kissed her. "You have no fucking idea how hard it is to keep my hands off you."
"Then don't," said Ingrid, her voice breathy.
It was clear this was exactly what Damien had in mind.
Ingrid went to work on Damien's clothes, undoing the buttons of his tux and untying his bow as fast as she could. Between the adrenaline and the arousal that'd taken hold of her, it was difficult to keep her hands steady. But soon, she was working the buttons of his shirt, exposing more and more of his god-like physique with each button she undid. Moments later, she pulled his shirt off, revealing his sculpted, beautiful torso, his solid, square pecs heaving with each full breath he took. Soon, Ingrid had him down to nothing but his skin-tight, black boxer briefs, his long cock straining against the fabric.
Ingrid was beyond turned on. She'd never had a man want her as much as Damien did at that moment. But still, she couldn't help but make him wait, just a bit, for the fucking that he so desperately wanted to give her. Ingrid placed her hands on his thick, wide shoulders, pushed him back, and flashed him a naughty little smile. Without a word, she dropped to her knees and was face-to-face with his impressive package.
Damien understood right away what she had in mind and placed his hands on the back of her head. Ingrid raised up just a bit, kissing the definition of his abs, giving attention to each of his jutting hip muscles on both sides of his six-pack. And as she kissed him, Damien let out a low growl that reverberated through Ingrid's body. She wondered if at any moment he might shift.
She didn't want to keep him waiting too long – he could barely restrain himself as it was. Ingrid slipped her fingers under the waistband of Damien's briefs and yanked them down, his cock springing out right in front of her face. Her eyes went wide at the sight of his member; she'd seen it before, sure, but she'd forgotten just how big it was.
Maybe I've…bitten off more than I can chew, she thought. But I think I'm up to the challenge.
Ingrid wrapped her fingers around the base of Damien's cock, and he let out another growl as she did. She stroked him for a few moments as she prepared herself to take all of him into her mouth. Starting with kisses on his head, she continued to stimulate him with one hand while working more and more of him into her mouth. Soon, she had her lips wrapped around his head in a tight seal, flicking him with her tongue as she held him in her mouth. Damien growled more and more, and she wondered for just how long he could keep the animal at bay. After a few more moments, she felt ready to take more of him into her mouth. Keeping her lips wrapped tight, she moved down the many, many inches of his cock until he was fully inside her. Damien pressed hard on the back of her head, guiding her down how he wanted. And when he was fully down her throat, she looked up at him with smiling eyes, letting him enjoy the sight of her sucking on his fat, thick cock.
Once she was used to the size, Ingrid began bobbing up and down, filling the air with licking and sucking sounds. Damien moaned and groaned as she devoured his prick over and over, and Ingrid could tell he was getting ready to lose total control. After another minute of her sucking him, Damien guided Ingrid off his prick and back to her feet.
"You're making me go fucking crazy," he said, scooping her effortlessly into his hands and bringing her back to the table behind them. "But I don't want to lose my mind just yet."
"Maybe that's what I want," said Ingrid with a smirk.
"You'll lose control when I say you will," said Damien.
Another thrill ran up Ingrid's spine. She never would've guessed just how much a man taking control like this would've turned her on. She loved it.
Damien quickly snatched off Ingrid's bra, her large, perfectly-shaped breasts now bare. And as he did, Ingrid slipped her panties off and down her legs. Once she was totally nude, Damien latched onto her breasts, kissing and licking them, paying special attention to her nipples. He took one after the other into her mouth, and the feeling was so intense Ingrid wondered if he just might be able to make her cum with nothing more than the sensual attention he gave to her breasts.
She didn't have the chance to wonder for long. He moved down, kissing her hungrily as he did. He kissed her breasts, her stomach, her sides, and the low, low part of her stomach just above her sex. And the closer he came to her pussy, the wilder he became, the less restrained, the more animalistic.
"You smell so fucking good," he growled, squeezing her breasts as he did.
"You want to lick me?" asked Ingrid.
"More than fucking anything," he said.
He moved down until his face was right in front of her pussy. Damien then paused, taking in a slow draw of air through his nose, as though wanting to appreciate just what he had in front of him.
Then, he went to it.
He first started with kisses along the inside of her thighs, the sensation like electricity through Ingrid's body. Then, he gave his full attention to her pussy. He ate her ravenously, licking her clitoris and fingering her with his free hand. Ingrid moaned and shook as he ate her, barely able to keep her body steady as the pleasure rushed through her. With each lick, with each penetration of his fingers into her, she moved closer and closer to orgasm. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Her orgasm came fast and hard, seizing her completely. Ingrid bucked and moaned, grinding her pussy hard into Damien's face. He continued to lick and finger her through her orgasm, the sensation like nothing Ingrid had ever felt before.
Soon, the orgasm ebbed. But Damien was ready for his. He shot up to his feet, wrapped his arms around Ingrid's waist, and pulled her close. Looking down, she saw that his cock was only inches from her pussy, and she wanted him to put that fat prick in her more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life.
Before she could worry too much about the matter, however, Damien gave her just what she wanted. With a slow and steady thrust, he entered her hard and deep. Ingrid's eyes went wide as she felt every inch of Damien inside her. She gripped hard onto the muscles of Damien's upper back, holding on for dear life as he filled her completely. Once he was fully sheathed inside of her, Ingrid took a slow, deep breath, preparing herself for the onslaught that Damien was surely about to give her.
Gripping onto the soft curves of her hips, Damien drove into Ingrid relentlessly, pounding her hard. The wild, golden glow was still in his eyes, and knowing that Damien was right on that thin separation between animal and man did nothing but make Ingrid more and more aroused by the second. She loved that she could bring this out of a man, that her body had cast such a spell on him. She was a little afraid of the power with which he fucked her, but more than anything else, she was turned on beyond belief.
The fucking brought Ingrid into something like a trance. Her eyes winced shut, and she could hardly keep a thought in her head. She knew she was about to come again, and that this orgasm was likely to be even more intense than the first. Opening her eyes just a bit, she looked at Damien's gorgeous face, which was fixed in an intense look of aroused concentration. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he pounded her, and she loved every second of it.
Soon, the orgasm came. It took hold of her completely, sending her into a wild whirlwind of ecstasy. She gripped hard onto Damien, moaning and screaming as she did, her toes curling tight and her fingers digging into his back. Damien's orgasm soon followed, and he emptied himself into her, filling her full of his cum. Ingrid savored the sensual delight of him exploding inside of her, and she held his hips close so not a drop went anywhere but deep within.
Their orgasms faded, and they held each other close as they regained their breaths. Ingrid gently pushed Damien away, far enough that she could look at him, but close enough that he stayed inside her. He flicked his eyes up to her and she saw that they were back to his shimmering blue.
"Looks like I've tamed the beast," she said.
But Damien only chuckled.
"For now," he said.
The two kissed slowly and passionately, both of them sheathed fully in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Once they were done, the two embraced again, and it seemed to Ingrid as though they were the only people in the world, the full moon above like the great eye of some silent witness.
The next three weeks rushed by faster than Ingrid could believe. Despite the events of the evening at the ball, things seemed to calm down. Damien did his best to make sure Ingrid and Adeline were watched after from a distance while he worked behind the scenes to get to the bottom of just who was responsible for the attack.
And the relationship between the two of them was never the same after that night. They'd totally given in to their passions, sneaking off for quick lovemaking sessions here and there. What their relationship was, exactly, was still unclear to Ingrid. But she was happy to enjoy what they had.
"Hey, Adey," said Ingrid, giving the girl a hair-mussing as Ingrid walked into the living room.
"Hey!" said Adeline, flashing Ingrid a warm smile.
The girl was still warming up to her, but Ingrid felt like she'd made major progress in getting her to come out of her shell. And Damien noticed too. Every now and then, she'd catch him watching them play from a distance, a small smile on his face. He'd observe for a minute or two before going back to whatever he'd been doing before, and Ingrid was pleased that she'd been able to get further with his daughter than any nanny had before. And she was starting to develop genuine affection for the girl, waking up in the morning and looking forward to their afternoons after school together and their weekend shopping and lunch trips.
Ingrid had mostly experience with the teenage girls in the Abernathy family, so watching a girl who was this young was something very different for her. It felt at times like she was a mother, and Adeline was her little girl. Ingrid had never thought about herself in this way before, and, to her surprise, she liked the feeling.
It was strange, knowing what she now knew about Adeline. Her father was…something. He wasn't just a human, he was something different than that. A…shifter? At least, that's what Damien told her. Ingrid wondered if that meant Adeline had the power to turn into a wolf. But she didn't like to give the matter too much thought – it was all too much to try to figure out.
One Sunday afternoon at the park, Ingrid and Adeline were taking a long walk, enjoying the mild weather and taking in the crowds.
"So," said Adeline. "I think all I need to do is make sure my grades are good this fall, and then dad definitely will get me a cat. I know it."
Ingrid raised an eyebrow.
"You think that's all you need to do?"
"Um, duh," said Adeline. "I've been leaving hints all around the house, so he knows what's going on. I put a picture of a cat in his briefcase and he had to have seen it. This way, when I ask him, he won't be surprised. And then when he sees my grades, he'll have to say ‘yes'."
Ingrid smiled.
"Sounds like the perfect plan to me!"
A beaming grin formed on Adeline's face.
"Purr-fect!" she shouted, pleased with her pun.
Don't know if a cat is the best thing to bring into a home where the owners change into wolves, she thought as they made their way down the winding park path. That thing might end up in Damien's belly for all I know.
A little further down the path, however, a feeling gripped Ingrid out of nowhere. It was an intense, overwhelming nausea that made her scan the area around her for any sign of a bathroom.
"Are you okay, Ingrid?" asked Adeline. "You look bad."
"Um, just need to find a bathroom," said Ingrid. "Come on."
She spotted one nearby and brought Adeline with her, telling her to wait just outside while she ran in. Once in the stall, she dropped to her knees and vomited intensely, gripping onto the rim of the toilet to hold herself in place. The experience was sudden, but brief, and only moments later, she was back to her usual self.
"You okay?" asked Adeline. "I could hear you out here."
"Um, I'm fine," said Ingrid. "Not sure what that was."
The two of them finished their afternoon at the park and came home a bit later to work on Adeline's homework. And as they did, Ingrid found herself thinking about her little sick spell at the park. She'd never been ill like that before, and the way it passed so quickly struck her as odd.
A bit later, Damien came home from a security detail job and brought some takeout from a nearby Mexican place.
"Something wrong?" asked Damien as he passed Ingrid a Styrofoam tray of tacos.
"No," said Ingrid. "All's good."
"Ingrid got sick at the park today," said Adeline, blurting out the news right before sinking her teeth into her burrito.
"Really?" asked Damien.
"It's nothing," said Ingrid. "I think I just ate something that didn't agree with me.
"I don't like this," said Damien. "I'm going to set you up with a doctor's appointment tomorrow."
"Oh, no, no," said Ingrid, waving her hand. "That's totally not necessary."
"You don't get any say in the matter," said Damien. "If you're coming down with something, I need to know. I want you to be in good health. You are here to do a job, after all."
Ingrid realized she wasn't going to win this one. Despite the affection he'd been showing her recently, Damien was still the same hard-willed, short-tempered man he'd been since she'd known him.
"Okay, fine," said Ingrid.
"I know a great doctor," said Damien. "If there's something wrong, he'll find out.”
Ingrid was ready to chalk it up to Damien being his usual controlling self, but when Ingrid woke up the next morning gripped by the same nausea as before, she knew there was something going on. She didn't tell Damien about it, not wanting to give him something else to worry about right before he went off to work for the day. But once Adeline was dropped off at school, Ingrid found herself eager to get to the doctor's and get to the bottom of this.
The time until the appointment trickled by. Ingrid was sure this wasn't just some run-of-the-mill nausea, though she had nothing more to back this up than a feeling. But it was a strong feeling, like something outside of herself was trying to get her to pay attention, to make sure she realized something important was happening.
When the time finally arrived, Ingrid hurried to the doctor's. The doctor was a trim, professional man who didn't make her wait a moment before getting her into his examination room. He gave her a physical, asked her about her symptoms, and took a little blood work. When he was all done, he asked to her stay in the area, as he'd be calling her back in a moment to go over the results.
"Go grab a bite to eat," he said. "There's a great little bistro right down the block."
"Not sure I could eat a bite."
"Just give it a try anyway."
Ingrid followed the doctor's order and headed down to the bistro. When she started off for her walk, she was certain she was so nervous that she wouldn't even be able to look at the menu. But with each step closer to the place, her hunger grew, and by the time she stepped through the doors, the hunger was positively ravenous. Sitting down at a small table by the window that afforded a charming view of a nearby park, she poured over the menu.
"Um, I'll take the burger. Make it medium-rare. Actually, you know what? Make it rare. And the steak – I'll have that too. Rare. So rare that it's bleeding on the plate. And, um, the steak fries. But hold the fries. Just the meat."
"Rare as well?" asked the waiter.
"You got it."
Ingrid waited impatiently for the food to come, and as soon it was set on the table, she tore into it. She was hungrier than she'd ever been in her life. Ingrid devoured the burger, tossing aside the bun and going right for the meat. When she was done with that, she set into the steak and consumed it greedily. The steak fries were finished soon after. She was consumed by the idea of meat, only touching the bread on the table when she needed it to sop up the remaining blood and juices.
When she was done, she felt full and satisfied, but confused. She'd never been much of a meat-eater, but now it was all she could think about. By the time the bill came, the doctor had called her, letting her know the results were ready. She walked back to the office feeling like she could've lifted a truck and tossed it on top of the White House.
"Pregnant?"
The word left Ingrid's mouth like it was something from an alien language.
"That's right," said the doctor. "And…it's a shifter."
Ingrid blinked slowly.
"Wait," she asked. "You know about this?"
The doctor nodded.
"There's a reason why Mr. Kennedy prefers me. Not many other shifter doctors in the city."
Ingrid felt the room spin around her.
"You should be happy," said the doctor. "Only humans with special bonds with shifters can carry their children. You and Mr. Kennedy must have something very special indeed."
Ingrid couldn't even imagine speaking. It was all too much.
"And the baby's looking healthy, though it's only a few weeks along. You're going to need a meat-heavy diet, but I can tell by the glow about you that you've already figured that out."
It was true; Ingrid felt stronger than she ever had in her life. But she still didn't know what to say.
"Congratulations," said the doctor.
The rest of the day passed for Ingrid as though she were drunk. She had no idea how to even begin processing the news. And when Damien came home later that day, all she wanted to do was hide from him.
"Good day?" he asked.
"Fine!" she blurted out.
Damien flashed her a bemused look as he poured himself a glass of wine.
"How do you feel about dinner this Friday?" he asked. "I think you've earned a night out."
Really, part of Ingrid wanted to rush out the front door and never come back. She was so scared, and she couldn't imagine telling Damien what she'd learned. She knew it would come out eventually…just not now.
"That sounds great," she said, trying to let the enthusiasm she felt for a night out show more than her fear of what she'd learned that day.
"Sounds good," said Damien, finishing his glass of wine and heading up to his office.
Ingrid seemed to blink and Friday arrived. She, at Damien's insistence, had gone out during the day to pick out something to wear, ending up buying a simple black cocktail dress and matching shoes.
"Better enjoy not wearing maternity clothes while I can," she muttered under her breath as she stood before the mirror, feeling pride for her curvy, shapely body.
Adeline was sent off to a friend's for the evening, and when Ingrid came down to the living room, Damien was waiting for her. He was dressed in one of his sharp suits, a cocktail in front of him.
"You look stunning," he said, standing to greet her. "Something to drink before we go?"
"Um, no," she said, feeling tense about lying. "The doctor said I should probably take a week off from drinking until this bug leaves my system."
"Smart move. Shall we?"
Damien had rented a limo for the night, and after a brief drive through the evening city, the two arrived at an upscale restaurant. Damien was greeted by the host and maitre'd, who seemed to know him. Ingrid still couldn't get over what a player in the town Damien was. Everyone seemed to know him, yet his job required that he operate in the shadows. In spite of herself, she was beginning to enjoy the sort of lifestyle he seemed to love lavishing on her.
Once seated at the table, Damien ordered for the both of them, deciding to join Ingrid in an alcohol-free evening.
"You look like you've got something on your mind," said Damien. "Like there's something you're not telling me."
Oh, shit, she thought. Is it that obvious? I need to think of something, and quick.
"Um," started Ingrid. "It's stupid."
Damien narrowed his eyes.
"I'll tell you if it's stupid or not," he said.
"It's just that, you know, with all that's been going on between us, I can't help but think about how I know so little about you. For instance, I still don't know what happened to Adeline's mother."
Damien looked away, processing the question. Ingrid knew it was no small thing to ask. And though she'd intended it as a distraction, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't very, very curious. Damien kept so much hidden, and she wanted in.
"It's…not much of a story, I'm afraid," he said, turning his brilliant blue eyes back to Ingrid. "She was a shifter like me. And we fell in love, hard and fast. I was a lot younger back then, probably around your age. We got married and had all these big plans for our future. I'd been in the military before she and I met and loved the lifestyle. But she wanted me to settle down and get some normal job here in DC. For her, I would've done anything.
"Eventually, she became pregnant, and it was the happiest day of my life. I couldn't believe I was going to be a father. It was overwhelming and exciting all at once.”
I know the feeling, thought Ingrid.
"The pregnancy was normal, and eventually, the day came for her to give birth. We went to the hospital, and all seemed to be going as it should've. But eventually, she began bleeding. And according to the doctor's, it just didn't stop."
Damien closed his eyes and turned away. Tears formed in Ingrid's eyes, and she instinctively reached across the table and placed her hands on his.
"And that was that. I went from married and expecting a family to a single father, all over the course of an hour or two. That's life, I suppose. It was bizarre at first; I had no idea how to even begin being a parent, let alone a single one."
Damien looked away for a moment. Ingrid could tell that the topic was a difficult one for him to discuss, and she wanted to give him all the time he needed.
If only he knew that he was about to become a dad again, she thought for a brief moment before dismissing the thought from her head.
"But I made it work. However, I knew I'd never be able to do a ‘normal' job in the city. Working in some office all day, shaking hands and doing whatever it is these suits in the city do…I just couldn't do it. Not to mention that being a shifter, I'd always be an outsider, no matter how well I did at keeping the secret. So, I got in touch with some of my old shifter military buddies and we put together this group of ours. And that's been how it's been ever since."
He took a sip of his sparkling water, and Ingrid could tell he wished it were some kind of booze.
The waiter brought their food before either of them could say another word, and after they both took a few bites, Damien looked back up at Ingrid.
"I can't help but feel like there's a reason for you wanting to get so into my personal history like this," he said. "Almost as if…there's something you want to tell me."
Ingrid was stunned. How did he know?
He's got me, she thought. No sense in keeping this from him any longer.
But just as she opened her mouth to speak, Damien's phone buzzed in his pocket. He slipped it out and took a look.
"What the…" he said. "Sorry, I've got to take this."
"Emergency?" asked Ingrid.
"Maybe. I got a text from a number that the crew and I only use for emergencies. And now I'm getting a call. One second."
Damien shot up from his seat and hurried off to a quiet corner. As he spoke, Ingrid watched him. It was still so strange to her that she was pregnant, and that this man was the father.
Wait a minute, she thought. Does that mean the kid's going to be some kind of…wolf kid? Is he or she going to be a shifter like her father and half-sister?
But before she could give the matter too much thought, Damien hurried back to the table, sat down, and flagged the waiter.
"What's wrong?" asked Ingrid.
"Not sure yet," said Damien. "But I've got to meet with the crew ASAP. Some kind of last-minute operation."
"Oh," said Ingrid, realizing that the chance to tell Damien her news was now going to have to be put off, at least for the night.
"And when I say I have to go, I mean now," he said, handing his card to the waiter. "I'm going to have to call you a ride back to the house."
"Oh, no problem," said Ingrid. "I hope it's nothing too serious."
"Should be fine," said Damien. "Probably just one of the guys having last-minute concerns about the operation tomorrow."
But Ingrid didn't think Damien was entirely convinced.
The waiter soon returned with the card, and Damien made a call for a ride. He waited with her out front until it arrived.
"I probably won't be back until the morning," he said. "Don't wait up."
He opened the car door, saw her in, and took off, shutting the door behind him.
That was …odd, thought Ingrid. I know last-minute stuff like that is part of his job, but he seemed a little spooked by the whole thing.
The car started off and Ingrid rested her head against the car window, her eyes on the passing city.
I hate that I'm secretly happy that I don't have to tell him about…what's going on, she thought. This is all just too much, and after hearing about his past, I can't imagine that getting some nanny knocked up is how he imagined starting a new family. He's going to be so upset.
She shuddered as she imagined that temper of his coming out again, how mad he'd be when he learned the news. Ingrid imagined him punching the wall, his handsome face a deep red as he told her to get out and never come back.
It felt so silly to her, but she was lost. Getting pregnant out of marriage like this was something she never planned for, and the idea of being a single mother without a job was enough to make her feel like her heart might stop beating.
The car pulled up to the house and Ingrid got out. As soon as she stepped onto the front lawn, something struck her as…off, like something wasn't how it should've been. The house seemed darker than normal, and looking in through the windows, she saw that not a single light was on.
It's nothing, she thought. You're just being paranoid.
She fumbled in her purse for her keys and unlocked the front door. But as soon as she stepped inside, she realized that something was very, very wrong. The air of the house was dead-still, and just as she thought, all the lights were off. She walked through the main entrance room, looking around as she did. Reaching for the nearest light, she flicked the switch, but nothing came on.
"Is that our guest of honor?" asked a familiar voice from the kitchen. "Get on in here, young lady!"
Ingrid's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She walked into the kitchen, and there, she saw a sight she couldn't have imagined.
It was Miller, the leader of the mercenary group she'd met at the ball. He was seated in darkness, a cigarette held near his face the only light around. To his left and right were a half-dozen mercenaries, all armed to the teeth.
And to his immediate right, a gun pressed to her back, was Adeline, her face wet with tears of terror.
"We were wondering when you were gonna get here," said Miller, a sinister smile on his face. "Now come on in and join the fun."