Summary: Damien confronts Riley and Liam about his case, Kai has a frustrating night out, and Liam receives some disturbing new information
Damien chastised himself under his breath as he obsessively tidied and cleaned his apartment. For offering it up as a meeting place, for letting it get messy in the first place, for even caring enough to try to impress her.
Riley fucking Brooks.
Most of all, he hated that he was excited to see her.
Over the past year he’d managed to forget her, mostly. She rarely crossed his mind any more, and the times that she did were no longer painful. Which just made it all the more infuriating that now his heart was in his throat and his hands were sweating as he prepared to see her again.
BRRRRPPPT!!! He nearly jumped out of his own skin at the sudden racket of his phone vibrating on the flimsy tin tray table where he’d set it down. He flipped it over to see the incoming text and gasped at the message from Kai on the screen.
HELP!!!!
He started to answer, his hands already shaking as he tried to tap out his response. “Where are you? What’s hap–”
You said you’d be here D! Save me from Nadia and her new boyfriend!
Damien glared at his phone, deleting his own message and starting over.
Shit, I’m sorry Kai. I have to work. They can’t be that bad.
His response was almost immediate.
I’m like 90% sure this guy is a robot designed to be as nauseatingly perfect as possible. It’s disgusting.
He chuckled and shoved his phone in his pocket, folding up the tray table and shoving it behind the couch. With no tidying left to do, he poured himself a glass of Bacardi and relaxed into his favourite chair.
His glass was empty and his eyelids starting to droop when the door buzzer finally went off. Damien smoothed his clothes and hair anxiously as he waited for Riley to make her way up the three flights of stairs to his apartment and knock on his door.
Deep breath, Nazario. It’s just Riley.
His tacked-on smile vanished as he opened the door to see that wasn’t the case.
Riley fidgeted with the hem of her dress, nervously waiting for her knock to be answered. Liam reached for her hand, gently squeezing it. She met his eyes and he silently mouthed the words ‘I love you’ just as the door opened into Damien’s apartment.
At first they could only gape at each other. Damien’s jaw hung open, making that adorable flustered face she’d always loved on him. She was surprised at how good it was to see him – how handsome he looked, how strongly her heart beat at the sight of him, standing here in this apartment where he’d thrown her up against that very door in passion more times than she could count.
Fuck. She felt like her brain was short-circuiting, helpless to stop staring in stunned silence.
Liam squeezed her hand one more time before letting go, holding his own hand out to Damien. “My apologies for not letting you know I’d be tagging along. My name’s Liam.”
“You’re…” Damien trailed off, still gawking at the pair of them. He shook his head, seeming to snap out of it. He shook Liam’s hand firmly. “Damien Nazario…um…Your Majesty?”
He chuckled warmly. “Liam is fine. May we come in?”
“Of course.” Damien stepped aside to let them in, closing the door softly behind them. “I don’t mean to be dramatic but…were you followed? I mean, I assume you have bodyguards?”
“We were careful,” Riley answered, barely restraining herself from rolling her eyes.
“We were,” Liam nodded. “I’m certain my personal guard is still dutifully stationed outside my hotel room.”
Damien looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. “Can I get either of you a drink?”
“No thanks,” Riley answered immediately. “I know you don’t have anything good.” Liam frowned at her rudeness, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Damien just laughed.
“Fair enough.” He headed for the easy chair in his living room, gesturing for them to take the couch. Liam sank heavily in the sagging cushions, making a valiant effort to not make his surprise evident as he struggled to sit properly in the collapsing furniture. Riley smiled at him in amusement, his face brightening as his eyes met hers.
“So you two are…dating?”
Both of their smiles fell at his question. They stared at each other for a moment, wordlessly working out who would answer, and how.
“Why don’t you start with what you wanted to tell us,” Liam deflected.
Kai checked his phone under the table, frowning at the radio silence from Damien. He typed out another in his series of unanswered messages.
Scratch that. I’m up to 95% certainty. This guy just produced a chocolate-covered marshmallow out of, I swear to god, thin air.
Daaaamien? Helloooo, earth to Damien.
Damien! Stop working. I’m requesting urgent extraction. Repeat, urgent extraction required.
Damien. Damien. Damien. Dames. Big D. Detective Nazario. Super Sleuth Handsome Gumshoe Man. Come in, Nazario.
DAMIEN PLEASE
Damien it’s Kai. I’m being murdered. The robot boyfriend has gone rogue. Plz send helpkljasdfjslkdfs
WHERE ARE YOU?????
“That’s about enough of that!” Nadia grabbed the phone from his hands before he could protest, tucking it into her purse, which she then sat on.
“What the hell, Nadia? I was just texting Damien.”
“I know what you were doing. If Damien wanted to talk to you, he should’ve showed up like he said he would.”
Kai pouted. “He’s working.”
“Then he doesn’t need you distracting him! Come on, snap out of your Damien-fixation and go dance with somebody.”
He grimaced at the crowded, sweaty dance floor. “Wait, my what?”
“Your Damien fixation!” Nadia repeated, flicking his arm viciously. “You haven’t stopped talking about him all night. Just tell him how you feel already.”
“I don’t…what…” Kai threw back the last of his drink, slamming the glass down on the table. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He got up and headed to the dance floor before she could respond.
“So you won’t tell us who hired you?”
Halfway through Damien’s story, Liam and Riley had decided they needed those drinks after all. Riley fidgeted with her nearly-empty glass now, running her finger around the rim nervously and sucking the traces of alcohol off of it periodically. Damien squirmed in his seat, watching her tongue circle her fingertip as she started the ritual over again.
“Sorry, but I really can’t out my client to you. I’m here to give you a chance to get ahead of this thing so that you don’t get blindsided again, not to take sides.”
“A lot of fucking good that does us,” Riley muttered angrily, polishing off the last of her drink without making eye contact.
“It’s OK,” the king countered, an apologetic smile on his stately face. “You’re a professional; I get that. How do you suggest we move forward?”
Damien set his drink down and leaned across the coffee table towards them. “That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss. But first, I need to know what’s actually going on here.”
Riley stood up suddenly from the couch, Liam’s hand that had been resting on her thigh conspicuously dropping to the couch. She paced the small living room, eyes on the floor. “What do you mean ‘what’s going on’?”
“I mean what’s your side of the story? I want to help, Riles. So far I only know what the media says about you two, and I’d like to know the truth.”
Her pacing stopped as she reached for a framed photo on his bookshelf, ignoring his words. She ran her fingers over the glass, studying the image of Damien almost-but-not-quite smiling, flanked by the Park cousins. “You three are still close?”
“Uh, yup. They’re my friends.” He shifted nervously, not wanting the line of questioning to get away from him.
“You always seemed so close,” Riley said softly, her tone wistful and a little sad. “I never really made friends like that in New York.”
He stood then, crossing the room to gently pluck the photo from her hands and place it back on the shelf. “Riley…”
“I’m happy to share our story with you, Mr. Nazario,” Liam interrupted. “It all started at my bachelor party…”
Riley snuggled back into the couch, gazing up at Liam as he told their story to Damien. It was odd to hear it all told from his point of view, and everything they kept quiet and unspoken laid bare and made, somehow, much more real. His love for her. His grief at the scandal that stood in their way. His intention to marry her, still. She relaxed further into his arms as he spoke, the awkwardness of the situation evaporating as she fell under the spell of her own love story.
He was nearing the end, just telling Damien about confronting Constantine, when his phone started to ring. He frowned as he pulled it out and saw Bastien’s number on the screen. “Busted,” Riley whispered.
“I’m sorry…if you’ll excuse me.” Liam headed back out into the shared hallway to take the call, leaving Riley and Damien alone.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said as soon as Liam was out of earshot.
“Oh? Do tell.” Damien stared at her with that perfect interrogator’s poker face that he wore so well. It annoyed the shit out of her.
“I considered it myself, you know. I’m not an idiot. I thought that maybe this was all too good to be true. That he never had any intention to marry me and was just playing me all along. But I’m over doubting myself. I trust him. And you should too.”
Damien shook his head, laughing. “I never doubted it, Riley. Of course he chose you. How could he not?”
She didn’t have a chance to respond before Liam came back into the apartment. They both stood up out of their seats when they saw him: eyebrows furrowed with rage, fists balled up at his sides, face red. They stared at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
“It’s Tariq,” he said finally, his voice cracking with emotion. “He’s in Los Angeles…and he’s been murdered.”