“You can take your time, Mr. Maher. I want to be sure to understand it all before I sign anything,” I tell him. I don’t have to look at Damian to feel his glare on me.
“That’s wise, dear,” Mr. Maher says to me.
Damian mutters a curse under his breath, and that makes me happy. I’ll take every little win I can get.
I sit down, and Mr. Maher starts to go over the contracts. It’s all pretty straightforward as far as my inheritance and that my uncle’s responsibility and power of attorney is no longer necessary. He explains about the financial agreement between my uncle and Damian. Translation: how Damian essentially bought him. How for the past eight years, Damian has been my financial guardian, and I never even knew it.
My uncle betrayed me. Does he even love me? I don’t think he took me in only for the money, did he?
Damian only steps in to explain that on the face of things, everything will be in my name, but truly, we both know that he’ll be running things and that the foundation will continue to be a front.
It takes an hour for us to get through the details, and I finally sign the paperwork because what choice do I have?
Mr. Maher congratulates me although it’s strange. He stands to shake hands with me and my uncle, but my uncle finally speaks up.
“Would you mind if I had a few minutes in private with my niece?” he asks Mr. Maher.
“Not at all.” Mr. Maher walks around the desk to exit but pauses when he sees Damian is still standing there.
“Damian,” my uncle says.
“I’ll be here to make sure you tell her the truth.”
I turn to Damian. “He’s not going to lie to me. You can leave.”
His arctic gaze holds mine but he never directly speaks to me. “Cash, show Mr. Maher out.”
“It’s his office,” I tell Damian. I’m picking a fight, and I know it.
“It’s all right, dear,” Mr. Maher says and leaves.
I purposely turn my back to Damian once the three of us are alone in the office.
“He’s explained things?” my uncle asks.
I nod. “It’s true?”
“Yes.”
“All along?”
“No. Only the last few years before the accident. We ran into hard times when the economy took a downturn, and your father had made some contacts who offered a solution.”
“Like bribing politicians with dirty money?”
My uncle doesn’t answer. He looks over my shoulder to Damian instead. “You’ll keep her safe. Keep her out of it.”
“As was always agreed her name will only appear on the paperwork.”
I turn to him. “Why exactly? I don’t understand. If you pretty much run The Valentina Foundation, why not just take it over altogether? Why do I have to be involved?”
“Because you’re the face of the Foundation. A sweet, innocent face who isn’t now and never has been involved in anything unsavory,” Damian says. His eyes on me only make me think of last night. Of how he looked at me, how he touched me, how close he was to me and how he humiliated me. “Besides, only a Valentina can technically run things. Rules of the foundation.”
I grit my teeth, hating him.
“While you do dirty work with crooks in my name.”
“The foundation does some good work, too, remember.”
“And if something goes wrong, what happens to me? Am I responsible?”
“I won’t let anything go wrong,” Damian says.
“What if it does?”
“I will keep you safe and protected, Cristina. I have always kept you safe and protected, since you were a little girl. You just never knew it.”
He has, in his own creepy way, I guess.
My uncle clears his throat. “If she’s hurt or in any way implicated in anything—”
“I said she won’t be,” Damian tells him, then turns back to me. “I take care of what’s mine.”
Safe. Protected. Cared for.
It’s all opposite of what he wants with me. I’m here to be punished for something that happened when I was a child.
Confused, I open my mouth, but Damian speaks first. “If there’s nothing else, Adam, we need to go. You’ll see her tonight.”
“What’s tonight?” I ask.
He sighs deeply but doesn’t answer.
“What’s tonight?” I ask Damian.
“Say goodbye to your uncle.”
“I hate you,” I tell Damian.
“Cristina,” my uncle starts, hand on my shoulder.
I turn to him.
“Take care. Remember what I told you.”
He’s warning me against Damian, but I don’t need to be warned. I know firsthand what Damian’s capable of.
He hugs me then, hugs me like he did the day of my father’s funeral when they came to bury him and take me to my new home, and a sob breaks through.
“Stay strong,” he whispers.
I look up at him, and all I can do is nod as I wipe away my tears, trying to stop them from flowing. I don’t want to appear any weaker than I already am.
Damian comes up behind me. I feel his presence without hearing him approach or having to turn to see it.