Chapter 18
Chapter 18
“Where are we going?” I asked, a bit nervous as we passed the sign heading out of Las Vegas.
The drive was long, and the sun began to set. The air cooled down as it always did on desert nights. Without the neon lights around us, there was very little to guide the way down the long stretches of desert road.
I could only trust that Peter knew where he was going. Darkness surrounded us as we drove, the city’s lights fading into the distance behind us.
“Damon has a house not far from the city. He wanted you to stay there,” Peter said, gently. “Sorry about all this. I don’t want you to think I’m kidnapping you or something.”
“I didn’t, Peter,” I told him, my alarm growing, “until you said that.”
“Oops,” he chuckled. “My bad.” He tried to smile at me in the rearview mirror but my mind was racing.
I tried to calm my nerves throughout the drive. Honestly, I didn’t see why I had to live anywhere but in my own apartment.
Sure, it wasn’t the most comfortable since you had to take showers in cold water because the heater was broken and my neighbor liked to slip his “samples” under everyone’s doors but…
You know what, never mind. My apartment was a hole, but it was mine. I didn’t know how I felt about staying at Damon’s house.
I leaned my head against the car window, gazing through the tinted darkness. Above, I could see the stars so clearly. Like tiny twinkling diamonds in the sky.
I’d never seen so many before. I could count on my hand the number of times I’d left the city but it was nice to be able to see the stars. Eventually, my eyes shut as I dozed off, the coolness of the glass soothing me.
“We’re here!” Peter said excitedly.
I jerked awake at Peter’s claim, feeling like I’d only slept for a minute. The car pulled up to a large metal gate, a twenty-foot fence surrounding whatever was behind it.
If I knew Damon, it was probably electrified or something. Anything to keep his life private.
A security guard dressed in black approached us with an unfriendly look.
Peter rolled down both of our windows and the unknown man’s eyes locked onto me before turning to look at Peter.
“Hey, Joe!” Peter greeted him like they were old friends.
Joe only grunted, that scowl still on his face.
“This is Adelaide. She’s the wife I was telling you about. You know, that one,” Peter hinted, not subtle at all. I would have to ask Damon what he’d been telling people about me.
Joe’s eyes looked at me, and he grunted again. I was beginning to think that was all he did.
“I know! Can you believe Damon of all people got married?” Peter laughed. “Anyway, Damon wanted her to live here for the time being, so you should be seeing her come and go as she pleases. Damon’s words, not mine.”
At least I’m not a prisoner, I breathed in relief. I could come and go as I pleased. So, why did I have to stay here at all? What was Damon so worried about? Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.
Joe gave a third grunt and then turned his back on us.
“Nice talking to you, Joe!” Peter waved bye with a silly grin. The gates. began to open as Joe took his place in the security office just outside the gate.
“Man, that guy is great. You should talk to him sometime, he has some wild stories,” Peter told me as we drove inside.
I glanced at him, incredulously. Was he messing with me or just insane? Joe didn’t seem like he was even capable of speaking.
As we rounded the long driveway, the house came into view, and I forgot all about Peter or Joe. I stared open-mouthed out my window.
It was huge.
And I mean, massive. It had to be the size of my apartment building!
The modern house was full of sloped angles and massive floor-to-ceiling
windows. Lights illuminated from each corner. Between the stone walls around the desert-like gardens and the wooden panels between the windows, it was beyond gorgeous.
“This is Damon’s house?” I stared at the building wide-eyed as we drove around the garden platforms to the entrance. I could practically see all the way through the house with how many windows there were.
There was a massive swimming pool behind the house-in the middle of the garden. I bet the view from there was breathtaking.
“Yeah, it was really easy to build, actually,” Peter shrugged, nonchalantly. “Damon’s designs are really easy to follow.”
“You mean he designed this?” I gasped in awe.
“Of course,” Peter said and grinned at me.
I was in a state of shock as we got out and Peter threw both my bags over his shoulder like they were nothing, simply walking into the house as if he owned it.
Peter dropped my bags onto the floor with a grin, wiping his hands as he said, “Well, I’ll be sleeping over there if you need me. Mrs. Rivas can whip up anything you’d like for dinner. You should try her enchiladas, they’re the best.”
“Peter!”
A woman in her sixties with dark brown skin appeared over the second. floor out of nowhere, a stern look on her face. She was a plump woman in a messy apron and had a very strong Spanish accent. “Do not leave bags on the floor!”
“Sorry, Mrs. Rivas,” Peter muttered, ashamedly, grabbing both of my bags. “This is-”
“Adelay!” Mrs. Rivas cried with her accent as she rushed down the stairs. She pulled me into a fierce hug, and I was afraid my ribs would break from the force as she suffocated me. “You are Damon’s amor. I am so happy you are here!”
It was clear that Mrs. Rivas’ first language was not English.
When she let me go, I sucked in a massive breath, trying to grin at her despite the redness creeping up my face.
I knew little Spanish, but I knew what amor was. Was that really how he referred to me?
“Come, come, I’ll whip up something riquisimo for you!” Mrs. Rivas said as she kissed both of my cheeks and then my forehead. “Ah, you are too skinny. Double portions for you.”
“Uh, thanks,” I said as politely as I could. “But I’m a bit tired if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, no problem. Of course, you are. There’s always breakfast. My finest omelet for you. I’ll have Rosie take you to your room. Rosie!”
I covered my ears as Mrs. Rivas practically screamed out the name.
“Yes, nana!” a youthful voice called out, someone rushing from upstairs. Another woman appeared from the gardens, and I glanced at her confused.
Wait, didn’t I hear her feet from upstairs?
“Hola, Seniorita,” Rosie called out with a smile. “I’m Rosie.”
Rosie was a young Spanish girl with a youthful glow to her. She was clearly just out of high school, still bright, and her eyes shined with hope. She had smudges of paint on her overalls and face.
“Take Miss Adelay to her room,” Mrs. Rivas said.
“I’d be happy too! Follow me, Miss Adelaide.”
I was relieved that at least Rosie got my name right. Rosie chattered to me about the house and how it was built as she took me to my room. The house was much bigger than I thought it was as it seemed to just keep going.
Finally, Rosie stopped and gestured to one of the doors.
“Here you are! I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Adelaide,” Rosie grinned, then she skipped away, light on her feet like a dancer.
I waited until she was gone before I entered the room and realized that this wasn’t just my room.
It was Damon’s.
Though the floors were immaculate, the desk in the corner was piled to the top with papers and pencils, and charcoal drawings were
undoubtedly his. No one else could precariously stack that many papers up without it falling down.
Stupid architects, I grumbled to myself. My bags were already sitting on the floor, and for a moment, I wondered when Peter had the time to deliver them here.
Then it occurred to me that Rosie had probably not taken me the direct. route so I could see more of the house. I sighed, practically collapsing onto the warm, fluffy bed. The dark comforter was like a cloud as I buried myself in the mound of heavenly fluff.
I glanced at the ring on my finger. The only person who could’ve touched my rent and my student loans was me or my spouse.
I guess it just hadn’t sunk into me yet that Damon and I were truly married. Legally, we shared everything now, even our lives.
My phone dinged, a text message, and I groaned as I fished it out of my pocket and checked it. It was from my grandmother.
‘Dear, Addie. Come for a family luncheon tomorrow! Love, Grandma.’ I chuckled at how every other letter was capitalized. Even the excessive amount of emojis at the end was just like her.
A luncheon. I could always go and rub all of this in Corinna’s face. The man she dumped was actually a millionaire and a successful architect with his own mansion. I could imagine her turning purple as she threw a
fit.
But that wouldn’t be fair. Damon was keeping this a secret from his family. I doubt his father or Ashton even knew about any of this. I wouldn’t betray his trust just to get even with Corinna.
I took a bath in the luxurious master bathroom-soaking for a couple of hours. I didn’t even ask why Damon had my favorite shampoo already inside and ready for me. Clearly, he had been busy.
When I got out, dressed in a bathrobe, I noticed my phone lit up from another text message.
‘How are you?’
It was from Damon.
I felt in a better mood than usual, seeing as how I’d been able to soak in hot water so I sent him a quick text back.
I’m having trouble sleeping alone. This house is big.’
‘I wish I could be there to keep you company.
I snorted.
‘I’d never get any sleep then.’
‘Why would you want to?’
I could feel the smugness over the text, even as he sent me a winky face in response. It was so unlike him that a laugh burst out of my throat.
But then I thought, my laughter dying out. Despite how thankful I was to be free of my debts, I felt guilty.
‘Why did you pay off my student loans? And pay my rent?’
I sent the text before I could change my mind and waited for a response.
What came back was the simplest answer that I had never expected.
‘You’re my wife.’