Chapter 44: Sanctuary in the Storm
Micah’s POV
Dinner with the Silver family finally came to an end after what felt like an endless barrage of sarcastic banter between Damon and his father. Watching them jab at each other was dizzying. They didn’t talk like a stern father and a disciplined son; they talked like two loud, arrogant brothers who somehow shared a deep bond.
The moment the twins finished off their dessert, the nanny quietly ushered them away to bed. As soon as the sound of their footsteps faded upstairs, a heavy, suffocating silence descended over the dining room.
The maids efficiently cleared the porcelain plates, but I sat frozen in my chair. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to stand up and escape back to the safety of the guest suite, but I couldn’t move. Both Lord Silver and Damon were still sitting at the head of the table. Staring directly at the imposing head of the family felt far too intimidating, so I kept my gaze firmly fixed on my lap.
When I finally peeked up through my lashes, I caught Damon staring straight at me. His intense gaze practically burned into my skin. I desperately wished I could signal him to get me out of there, but doing so right in front of his father felt terribly disrespectful.
As if Damon seamlessly read the silent plea written across my face, he pushed his chair back with a loud scrape against the floor and stood up.
"Let me walk you back up to your room, Micah," he offered smoothly.
Relief flooded through me, and I was already bracing my hands against the table to stand when Lord Silver’s deep, authoritative baritone cut through the air.
"How long do you plan on staying here, child?"
The entire room seemed to freeze. My breath caught violently in my chest.
How long?
The question echoed in my head, spiraling into a wave of terror. Did I even have an answer? I was a fugitive in my own life. I had packed a tiny bag, fled my house in a frantic panic, and hadn’t thought a single step past escaping Noah and my father. What would happen to me when I finally had to go back? My father would be furious. If he discovered that I had taken refuge in the home of his bitter rival, the consequences would be catastrophic.
"Relax, boy," Lord Silver said softly, breaking my spiraling thoughts.
I blinked, lifting my head to meet his dark, intelligent eyes.
"I am not sending you out of my house," he continued, a gentle, almost amused expression softening his harsh features. "There is no way I would throw a helpless child onto the street—especially not when he happens to be my son’s... boyfriend."
My heart did a violent flip. No, I’m not Damon’s boyfriend! The urge to blurt out the truth flared up in my throat, but fear instantly clamped my mouth shut. What if denying it stripped me of his protection? What if he only tolerated my presence because he thought I mattered to Damon?
I pressed my trembling lips tight together, shooting a frantic glance at Damon. He was leaning against the table, his fingers rhythmically drumming against the dark wood as he watched his father with a protective hawk’s eye.
"It seems your father doesn’t even know you’re here," Lord Silver mused, his eyes searching my pale face. "I don’t know what kind of mess has transpired between you and Bernard, but under my roof, I will always extend a hand to those in need."
A lump instantly formed in my throat. My eyes stung with hot tears. I clutched my hand over my chest, overwhelmed by the sudden, unbelievable grace of a man who was supposed to be my family’s sworn enemy.
Before a single tear could fall, a broad hand gripped my arm, gently hauling me up from the chair. I looked up into Damon’s face.
"What are you...?"
"Don’t listen to a word that old man says," Damon interrupted, glaring down the table at his father. "If he ever even thought about kicking you out, I’d kick him out of his own estate myself."
Lord Silver merely threw his head back, letting out a rich laugh while dismissively waving a hand at his son. "We are attending services at the central church tomorrow morning. I’ll have the staff arrange proper clothes for you to wear."
Church tomorrow? A sudden cold shiver traced down my spine, but before I could process what that implied, Damon was already pulling me out of the dining hall.
He guided me up the grand staircase and straight into my guest room, closing the door behind us with a quiet click.
The instant the door shut, the overwhelming exhaustion of the day crashed over me. I let out a long, shuddering sigh and collapsed face-first onto the soft mattress. Rolling onto my side, I grabbed one of the plush pillows, burying my face into it before sitting up against the headboard.
Damon had wandered over to the armchair where my bag was sitting. I watched him unceremoniously yank the zipper back, his long fingers casually digging through my personal belongings like he owned them.
"I really thought your father was going to be terrifying," I admitted softly, clutching the pillow tighter against my ribs.
"Hmm," Damon grunted, not even looking up as he rifled through my folded shirts.
"He’s actually a great man," I added, a bitter smile touching my lips. "Much better than my own father, at least."
"I see," Damon replied smoothly.
I furrowed my brows, a sudden spike of annoyance cutting through my emotional exhaustion. I scrambled off the bed, stomping over to the armchair, and snatched the bag right out of his hands, glaring up at him.
"What on earth are you trying to steal this time?!"
Damon didn’t even flinch. He just leaned his body against the armchair, looking down at me with a shameless, crooked smirk.
"Your underwear," he stated deadpan.
My mouth fell wide open. Heat exploded across my face, searing all the way to the tips of my ears. "W-What?! Are you completely insane? Are you a pervert?!"
Suddenly, a horrifying realization hit me. I had packed in such a frantic hurry earlier today...
"I... I only brought one extra pair," I stammered out, my voice dropping to a mortified whisper as I clutched the bag to my chest. "And... and I’m wearing it right now."
Damon’s dark eyes instantly narrowed. His gaze slowly glided down my body, tracing the slope of my chest, tracing down past my waist, and lingering shamelessly on my thighs.
He took a slow step forward, closing the distance between us until his broad frame completely towered over mine. His dangerous, predatory smirk widened, his dark eyes sparkling with a wicked, breathless intensity.
"Well then..." he purred, his low voice vibrating right against my chest. "I guess I’ll just have to find a way to make you strip them off, won’t I?"
"W...what?!"
My voice squeaked, my heart slamming wildly against my ribs.