Chapter 5 - What Damian Learned About Tessa
The demand arrived the next morning.
No threats.
No blood.
No dramatic package.
Just a text message to Tessa’s phone.
You owe $186,420. We can make it disappear.
A second message appeared thirty seconds later.
All you have to do is leave one service door unlocked.
Tessa stared at the screen.
Damian stood across the kitchen.
Paul waited near the doorway.
Beatrice sat at the breakfast table, unaware of the storm building around her.
Tessa’s hands shook.
Damian noticed.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Tessa.”
“They contacted me.”
“They’re using you.”
“I know.”
“Then let me handle it.”
She looked at him.
“What does ‘handle it’ mean?”
Damian said nothing.
That frightened her more than an answer.
“No killing.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Tessa.”
“No.”
“These men are threatening you.”
“They’re asking me to unlock a door.”
“They’re asking you to help them enter my home.”
“Then we call the police.”
Paul coughed quietly.
Tessa looked at him.
“What?”
Paul scratched his jaw.
“The police have been trying to arrest Damian for fourteen years.”
She turned toward Damian.
He lifted one shoulder.
“That complicates things.”
“You think?”
Beatrice laughed suddenly.
All three looked toward her.
She was watching a bird outside the window.
For one surreal moment, the room returned to normal.
Tessa approached her.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
Beatrice nodded.
Damian watched Tessa’s expression soften immediately.
That was what his enemies did not understand.
They believed Tessa was weak because she cared.
Damian was beginning to understand caring was the reason she was strong.
Later, in his office, they developed a plan.
Tessa would respond.
She hated the idea.
But Damian explained that silence might provoke escalation.
She typed:
What do you want?
The reply came almost immediately.
East service entrance. Tuesday. 2:00 a.m. Disable the alarm for sixty seconds. Your debt disappears.
Tuesday was two days away.
Tessa looked at Damian.
“Absolutely not.”
“We’re not going to let them inside.”
“Then what are we doing?”
“Making them believe you will.”
She stood.
“No.”
“Tessa—”
“I am not bait.”
Damian went quiet.
She expected an argument.
Instead he said, “You’re right.”
Paul looked surprised.
Damian continued.
“I’ll find another way.”
Tessa stared at him.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
Something inside her softened.
This was not the man she had met outside Beatrice’s bedroom.
That Damian gave orders.
This Damian listened.
Not always.
But enough.
“What happens if we do nothing?” she asked.
Paul answered.
“They’ll assume she warned us.”
“And?”
Damian’s face hardened.
“They may target you directly.”
Tessa looked toward the window.
“What if I agree?”
Damian immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“What if we control it?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I said I would find another way.”
“You may not have time.”
Damian stepped closer.
“I will not risk you.”
The words hung between them.
Paul quietly looked away.
Tessa’s pulse shifted.
“Why?”
Damian’s expression became guarded.
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
He stared at her.
The dangerous mafia boss who could order armed men across the city suddenly looked like someone searching for a language he had never learned.
“You matter.”
Tessa’s throat tightened.
“To Beatrice?”
“To me.”
Silence.
Damian looked almost angry at himself.
Tessa remembered Monitor Four.
The endless cameras.
The man sitting alone beneath the house.
“You barely know me.”
“I know you work two jobs and still stop to help people when no one is watching.”
“That’s not knowing someone.”
“I know you hate cinnamon coffee.”
She blinked.
“I know you save the strawberry jam packets from breakfast.”
Her mouth opened.
“I know you pretend your hand doesn’t hurt.”
“Damian—”
“I know you speak to my mother as if the person she was still exists inside the person she is now.”
His voice lowered.
“And I know I have spent my life surrounded by people who would kill for me because they’re paid, while you risked yourself for someone who could give you nothing.”
Tessa’s eyes stung.
“That terrifies you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
She smiled faintly.
“Good.”
Damian almost laughed.
It was the first time she heard the sound.
Short.
Rough.
Real.
The moment ended when Paul’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His expression darkened.
“Boss.”
Damian immediately changed.
“What?”
“Salerno’s people contacted one of the nursing contractors.”
“Which one?”
“The one we fired.”
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“They know the East Wing layout.”
Paul nodded.
Tessa felt cold.
“They’re coming whether I help or not.”
“Possibly,” Paul said.
Damian paced.
Tessa watched him.
“Then use me.”
He stopped.
“No.”
“They think I’m desperate.”
“You are not bait.”
“I am desperate.”
Damian looked at her.
She held his gaze.
“I still owe almost two hundred thousand dollars. I still live above a bowling alley. I still count grocery money.”
Her voice steadied.
“But I am not stupid.”
She pointed toward the phone.
“They believe debt makes me controllable.”
Damian said nothing.
“Let them believe it.”
Paul looked between them.
“It could work.”
Damian’s eyes snapped toward him.
“I didn’t ask.”
Paul raised both hands.
Tessa stepped closer to Damian.
“You have cameras everywhere.”
“Yes.”
“Guards everywhere.”
“Yes.”
“A security room that looks like a military command center.”
“Yes.”
“Then for once, trust somebody.”
His expression changed.
“Who?”
“Me.”
The word hit harder than she expected.
Because Damian Costa did not know how.
Still, after a long silence, he nodded.
The plan began.
Over the next forty-eight hours, the estate transformed.
Exterior guards rotated.
Hidden teams positioned themselves beyond the east entrance.
The service hallway was cleared.
The alarm system was modified so Tessa could appear to disable it without actually compromising the property.
Paul rehearsed every step.
Damian hated every second.
Tuesday arrived.
The ninth day since Damian had first seen Tessa beside his mother’s bed.
At 1:40 a.m., the estate seemed asleep.
Beatrice rested upstairs.
Two trusted caregivers remained with her.
Tessa stood in the service hallway wearing jeans, a dark sweater, and an earpiece.
Damian adjusted the microphone near her collar.
His hands lingered for half a second.
“If anything feels wrong, you walk away.”
“I know.”
“You do not improvise.”
“I know.”
“You do not approach anyone.”
“Damian.”
“What?”
“You’ve said this six times.”
“Then remember it seven.”
She smiled.
He did not.
“Tessa.”
Her smile faded.
“What?”
“If something happens—”
“Nothing is going to happen.”
“You cannot promise that.”
“No.”
She looked into his eyes.
“But neither can you.”
For once, Damian had no argument.
At 1:58, Paul’s voice came through the earpiece.
“Vehicle approaching.”
Damian moved toward the security station.
Tessa stood beside the service door.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
Headlights appeared beyond the frosted glass.
A van stopped.
Three men emerged.
Then a fourth.
Damian watched from the monitors.
His hand rested near his weapon.
Tessa typed one message.
Door is open.
The reply arrived.
Good girl.
Damian saw it on the mirrored system.
His expression became lethal.
The first man approached the entrance.
Tessa stepped back.
The handle turned.
Then something unexpected happened.
A fifth man appeared behind the others.
Paul swore.
“Boss.”
Damian looked closer.
“What?”
“That’s not Salerno’s crew.”
“Who is he?”
Paul enlarged the image.
Damian went still.
He recognized the face.
And in that instant, he understood the entire trap.
This had never been about entering the estate.
It had been about forcing Damian into the open.
The fifth man raised a suppressed weapon toward the service door.
Toward Tessa.
Damian ran.
For the first time in his life, he abandoned the cameras.
May you like
Because the person he needed to protect was no longer safely contained inside a screen.
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