Chapter 183: The Devil’s Pampering

​As the elevator chimed to signal their arrival at the top floor, Damian lowered his hand. His long, calloused fingers slid down her arm, wrapping firmly yet gently around Anastasia’s smaller hand, intertwining their fingers before the double bronze doors slid open.

​The vast expanse of the two-story penthouse was flooded with ambient city glow and warm amber sconces, but the atmosphere inside was thick with nervous friction.

Across the sprawling living area near the marble bar, Julian and Clara were locked in a sharp, hushed debate. Clara... sharp eyed and impeccably dressed even with the strain of being Vivian’s collateral target hanging over her... was gesturing at a tablet screen while Julian leaned against the counter, listening with that effortless, easy smirk he always wore around her. Over on the low velvet sofa, Valerie sat curled up, anxiously refreshing her phone.

​And by the glass window overlooking the skyline stood Victoria. She stood, poised against the rain-streaked dark, holding an untouched crystal glass, her posture rigid as she stared out at the sprawling shadows of the city.

​The chime of the foyer doors broke the tension instantly.

​Heads snapped toward the entrance.

​"They’re back," Valerie breathed, tossing her phone onto the cushions and scrambling to her feet.

"Ana!" Clara hurried forward,passing by the boys entirely, her usual team leader composure melting into open, affectionate relief as she reached for Ana’s free hand. "Thank God you’re back on your feet. Mrs. Sterling had the staff prep the master bedroom with the humidifier and fresh linens so you can sleep off the meds. How are your lungs feeling?"

Before Ana could answer, Julian strolled over, hands tucked casually into his bespoke trousers, his handsome face lighting up with his trademark roguish charm.

​"Ana, sweetheart, look at you... back from the dead and still looking far too good for this gloomy mausoleum," Julian drawled, a roguish smirk tugging at his lips as he pocketed his phone and strolled over with hands tucked casually into his tailored slacks.

He offered her an exaggerated wink, visibly exhaling in genuine relief as he took in the color returning to her face. "Though if Damian’s brooding gave you a headache on the ride over, my penthouse across town has far better wine and considerably less surveillance."

​Damian shot him a warning glare that could peel paint off the walls, his fingers tightening around Ana’s hand. "Watch your mouth, Julian."

​"Just offering hospitality, my friend," Julian replied smoothly, raising a glass toward them with an easy, unbothered laugh.

​Valerie rushed over, throwing her arms gently around Ana, mindful of the lingering bruising on her collarbone and the tender intravenous puncture on the back of her hand. "I was so worried... I’m so glad you’re back."

​Among the flurry of quiet welcomes and relieved sighs, only Victoria remained anchored by the glass for a second longer.

​The lingering echo of her confrontation with Damian outside the hospital room was still painfully fresh in her mind.

His cold, detached rasp... I will, when the time is right... felt like a stain across the room, an ominous reminder that her son viewed this fragile young woman as an asset with an expiration date.

​Yet, as Victoria slowly turned around, her sharp eyes flickered down to where their fingers were firmly intertwined.

​Damian, was holding Anastasia’s hand openly, his broad shoulders angled protectively over her small frame.

​A momentary shadow of confusion crossed Victoria’s features before she smoothed it away. She stepped forward, forcing a polished, graceful smile onto her lips, masking the heavy questions gnawing at her mind.

​"Welcome home, Anastasia," Victoria said smoothly, her voice warm yet carefully measured. "We were all waiting for you."

"She needs to rest," Damian cut in, his voice firm and authoritative as he effectively ended the welcoming committee. "The doctors were clear about keeping her exertion minimal. I’m taking her up to the bedroom."

​His hand remained securely wrapped around Ana’s as he prepared to guide her away from the gathering, but Victoria’s composed voice halted the motion.

​"Valerie and I will be staying here tonight, Damian," Victoria announced smoothly, setting her crystal glass down on a side table with a faint, deliberate click. "Given everything that has happened, I want to be close by in case she needs anything during the night."

​Damian’s jaw set into an unyielding line, his dark eyes meeting his mother’s in a sharp, wordless standoff. The memory of their bitter clash flared between them once more, cold and volatile.

​Before Damian could issue a blunt refusal, Ana squeezed his hand gently and looked toward Victoria with genuine, tired gratitude.

​"Thank you, Victoria," Ana said softly, her throat still raspy. "I really appreciate you staying."

​Damian didn’t utter a word of protest, but his obsidian gaze lingered on his mother for a long, heavy second... a silent acknowledgment of the territory lines being drawn beneath his own roof.

​Without breaking the silence, he turned and led Ana away toward the wide staircase, his palm shifting from her hand to rest firmly at the small of her back.

Ana could feel the rigid, electric tension vibrating through his frame with every step they took, but she kept her lips sealed, leaning into his steadying presence as they ascended into the quiet sanctuary of the upper floor.

*******************

Damian lowered Anastasia onto the massive king-sized bed with careful, measured gentleness. The moment her head hit the plush pillows, a small, weary yawn broke past her lips, her eyelids fluttering under the heavy pull of exhaustion.

​He didn’t miss the deep, purple bruises shadowing her skin or the faint tremor in her hands. Reaching down, Damian pulled the heavy duvet over her shoulders, tucking the edges around her frame with an uncharacteristic, quiet precision that looked entirely foreign on his scarred, lethal hands.

​When he straightened up to adjust the bedside lamp, he caught her hazel eyes gleaming up at him. She was watching his every move, a soft, fond smile lingering on her lips.

​Damian’s brow arched in sharp defense. "Wipe that off your face. You look like a complete clown grinning at the ceiling like that."

​Instead of fading, Ana’s smile only widened, a faint dimple denting her pale cheek.

​"This is the first time you’ve ever taken care of me like this," she murmured, her raspy voice muffled by the down pillows.

​Damian frowned, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he scoffed into the dim room. "Don’t be ridiculous. I’m pretty sure I’ve kept you alive more times than I can count."

​Ana gently shook her head against the linen. "Not like this, Damian. Not without wanting to tear each other apart, and not when we’re actually this close to each other."

​Damian shook his head in sheer exasperation, though the hard edge in his obsidian eyes had melted into something far more dangerous and soft. "Close your eyes and sleep, Anastasia. You’re babbling like you’re still drunk from yesterday’s club."

​Ana let out a playful, petulant pout in protest, shifting onto her side and patting the empty space beside her. "Come sleep with me."

​"I have work to finish downstairs with Julian," he replied smoothly, turning to step away. "The perimeter isn’t..."

​Before he could pull back, Ana’s fingers shot out from beneath the covers, gripping the lapel of his rumpled shirt with surprising persistence.

With a sharp tug that caught him off balance against his bandaged ribs, she dragged him down until his towering frame leaned flat over the mattress, his face suspended mere inches from hers.

​The scent of bitter almond was entirely gone, replaced by her familiar, clean warmth and the faint floral wash of the hospital linens. Her breath brushed warm across his lips, her hazel gaze holding him completely captive in the shadows.

​"Come sleep, Mr. Sterling," Ana whispered, a delicate, teasing smile curving the edge of her mouth. "Even the devil needs to rest before bringing havoc to the world."