Faking it with Damian Black novel (Millie)

Chapter 45

-DAMIAN-

Choosing a location for this meeting with Sonja was tricky. The winning nominee was a local coffee shop

ten minutes’ walk away from Uni, two corners away from the bus station, and in front of the subway. It

was the busiest one we could find. Sending Sonja the wrong idea was the last thing I needed, but from

how quickly she responded to my text message, she clearly assumed this was more than a business

meeting.

I sat at a table outside the shop, a big white umbrella sheltering the table from the heat of the afternoon

sun.

Heads turned as Sonja slipped out of her rental car. She stood out in the crowd in her tiny red dress,

owning the streets like her personal runway. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, flashing her signature Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

smile.

That smile caught my attention back in college. That smile trapped me in her claws the second time

around. It used to make my heart beat faster. It used to put my world in slow motion.

Under the cacophony of the busy cafe, pedestrians on the walkway, and cars passing through the street,

I listened for an irregular bump in my chest. I frowned. Even when Sonja stood before me, leaning down

to kiss me on the cheek, I felt nothing apart from the urge to put a mile distance between us.

“Damian,” she purred, batting her long fake lashes. I put a hand between us, her lips landing on my

palm. Grimacing, she glared at me, lips pursing as she straightened up. With a huff, she stomped to the

chair across from me, sinking her bratty

as s on the seat

She plucked the laminated menu on the table! browsing through the list. “I knew you couldn’t stay away

from me that long she leaned forward, setting the menu down, “but this place is a bit loud, don’t you

think? Do you want to go somewhere.” She searched for words. I’ve seen this trick a thousand times. I

bit the insides of my cheeks and let it play. She reached over the glass table, tracing my knuckles with

her red fake fingernails. “Less loud and crowded?”

I sneered at her, pulled my hand from her reach, and got down to business. I took pleasure in watching

the emotion supersede Sonja’s perfect poker face when I slapped one of the photographs from Mon’s file

on the table. It was the picture of Sonja and Rome at the playground, the one taken the day she

surprised me at Lo lita’s.

Glowering at me, she looked down at the picture, confused. “What?”

“Stop playing games with me, Sonja.” I scoffed, leaning back in my seat. “How could you stoop this low?

Hurting Millicent? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“W..what?” she stuttered, glaring at the server who came to our table.

The server opened her mouth and closed it again, spinning on her heels.

Sonja stared at the picture as if it was the first time she had seen it. “I don’t know what you’re talking

about.”

“Cut the bul ls hit,” I spat. “Are you this desperate?”

Her confusion morphed into anger, her nails digging through the photo paper as she crumpled it.

“Whatever sh it you are talking about, I had nothing to do with it. I don’t even know what this picture was

about!”

The college students at the table next to ours stopped chatting, their prying eyes pointed in our direction.

Belching fire through her nose, she stared into my eyes. She was so mad, her nose flaring; it would’ve

made the tabloid headlines if there were pap ara zzi nearby. I wanted to laugh at how easily she lost her

composure in front of me. Pushing her buttons used to turn me on, and I was an expert at it. Now I feel

nothing. It’s like Sonja had suddenly lost her appeal to me.

She used to be my world. Now she’s just an eyesore I want to remove from my sight, from my life.

Keeping my face passive, I searched her face for lies and deceit. I’ve experienced the downside of failing

to judge her character and have no plans to become her pawn again. Surprisingly, I saw nothing but

genuine confusion lingering beneath her annoyance.

O

Is she telling the truth?

No. This is Sonja we’re talking about. She would say anything to save herself, to get anyone to believe

her lies.

She pushed off from the chair, the metal chair gritting against the cemented floor. “I don’t know what

games you’re playing. Damian.” Her chest heaved, hands balling above the table as she leaned closer.

She looked like a cobra ready to strike. “I don’t get you. You kept sending me flowers and letters; that’s

why I am here in Roslin City, and now you’re accusing me of something I don’t even understand.”

My eyebrows knitted together. “What are you talking about?”

Gaze sharpening, she glared at me through the tip of her nose. “You’re the one who’s playing games

here, Damian. Those flowers, white calla lilies, and the sweet emails I’ve been receiving. You’re the only

one who knows about those things!” She raised her hands in the air. “I thought you were finally ready to

fix us, and I am here to help you figure things out. That it’s really me you want and not that st upid blond!”

“Hold on.” I raised my hand, gesturing for her to sit down.

She mulled over her next move, her mind gears shifting loudly. Grunting, she slumped in her seat,

tossing one leg over the Mother.

“Back up to the flowers and letters. Do they have my signature, or did it come from my email account?” I

continued..

She looked thoughtful for a beat, chewing her bottom lip. “The flowers didn’t have a return address, but

they were delivered to my apartment, the one we shared. I bought that apartment for us. D. you know

that” Her eyes softened, a memory crossing her mind. “I hadn’t taken anyone there apart from you

I know that, but that isn’t the issue right now. “And the emails?”

She took out her phone, handing it over. The emails came from s&. And to back up her statement, she

started receiving emails a month ago. It was nothing but simple messages of I miss you: I miss us: I miss

our time together, and tons of I love you.

“Didn’t it ever occur to you that this could be an admirer trying to win your attention?” To Sonja’s credit,

she was good at her job. She had a good following online. A lot of them were young girls dreaming of

being in her shoes. This wouldn’t be the

first time some diehard fan of hers tried to do this kind of stunt.

“Why can’t you just admit it was you?” She scowled. “I would take you back in a heartbeat, D. Just say

the word, and I would leave Silverio for good.”

I slid back her phone. “That wasn’t me, Sonja. I ended things between us for a reason, and I don’t have

any plans of gett back with you.

I am trying to be positive here that this was a diehard fan of hers trying to win her attention. Still, after all

that happened with Millicent, I fear that someone wanted Sonja to be here in Roslin City, doing what

she’s doing right now, and she’s playing that role perfectly.

Hurt flooded Sonja’s face. Without another word, she dumped her phone back in her purse, rising from

her seat. I followed suit, sna tching her arm before she could walk away, pulling her closer. “Sonja… You

have to leave this city now.”

She searched my face, glowering. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She pulled free from my hold, strutting

away with her head held high

In the car, Dantry waited for me with a frown, starting the vehicle as soon as I secured my seatbelt. He

heard every detail of my conversation with Sonja. Remember when I said I wasn’t taking a chance with

Millicent’s safety? I’m glad I didn’t.

“You think it’s the detective?” Danny asked, driving out of the parking lot.

“Could be,” I said, pulling Sonja’s phone from my jeans Trace that email, and we’ll have the answer”