Chapter 90: rhythm

"Damien... What brings you here?" she inquired, her tone measured, while eyeing the bag placed on the table.

"Should I not be here , or were you perhaps expecting someone else?" he rejoined with a playful lilt, eliciting a twinge of embarrassment from her at the unintended implication of her initial question.

"That's not exactly how I intended my inquiry, Damien," she conveyed, her hand moving to gently mask her momentarily abashed expression.

Unbeknownst to her, Damien found her reaction endearing, a wry smile gracing his lips. He recognized that she hadn't meant to sound dismissive, but he couldn't resist the impulse to tease her.

"Why are you smiling? Got something to laugh about?" she asked, her eyebrows scrunching with a hint of playful suspicion.

"No" he replied, a chuckle slipping out.

A mock scowl settled on her features as she playfully addressed him, hands resting upon her hips, "So, it was a jest at my expense, then?"

With measured grace, Damien proceeded to retrieve the bag and, approaching her, gently placed its handle within her waiting hand. "What was the nature of your discussion with my father?" she asked in a hushed tone, mindful of her father's recent slumber induced by the anesthesia.

Leaning closer, he murmured near her ear, "That remains between your father and me," his breath, once warm against her skin, sent a delicate shiver coursing down her spine. In response, she drew a slow breath, endeavoring to collect herself.

When she raised her gaze to meet his, she found herself ensnared by the penetrating intensity of his obsidian eyes, weaving a silent spell that left her momentarily bereft of words.

Breaking the arresting silence, he gently encouraged, "You'll find a change of clothes inside. Once you've showered, you can change to those garments," his words acting as a gentle tether, drawing her back from the reverie that had enthralled her.

Flustered by the realization that she had been momentarily lost in her thoughts, she accepted the bag and hastened toward the bathroom, a faint chuckle escaping Damien as he beheld her endearing retreat.

As Marcel cast a solemn gaze through the window blinds, silently observing the unfolding scene, a sudden pang of inexplicable pain seized his chest, prompting him to clutch at his heart in a moment of palpable distress.

"Everyonecould hear your heart beat all the way from the first floor," A voice, resonant with a certain eerie amusement, interjected from behind him, breaking the stillness. Startled, he turned to find Serafina standing there, her arms folded across her chest as she regarded him with a disarming smile.

Her smile was so enchanting that, for a fleeting moment, it allowed Marcel to momentarily forget his inner turmoil.

"Come, I know of a place where you can drown your sorrows in a glass of bourbon," she offered simply, her tone steeped in mocking sympathy.

Emerging from his reverie, Marcel exhaled wearily, making a move to step past her.

"There are some things you don't understand, and I don't partake in a drink with a vampire," he declared, striding past her, only to find her once again standing before him.

However, to his surprise, Serafina materialized once again, barring his path with a steely yet gentle resolve.

"I respect the reservations you hold against our kind, as they stem from your lived experience. Yet, to declare that my words lack meaning is to deceive yourself, and you know it," she remarked matter-of-factly, a subtle arch of her eyebrow underscoring her statement.

After a moment's contemplation and a deep sigh, Marcel relented, agreeing, "Fine, lead the way." He followed her, silently acknowledging that a glass or two might indeed offer a measure of solace. Together, they departed in his car, bound for the enigmatic allure of LUX.

----

When Lauren entered the bathroom, her eyes widened in amazement at the sheer spaciousness of the room. The bathtub, a work of timeless elegance, sat in the center, exuding an aura of tranquility and luxury. It was already prepared for her, evoking an irresistible invitation to indulge in its depths. Initially planning a quick shower, she found herself irresistibly drawn to the idea of submerging herself in the bath, wanting to extend her time in the bathroom to avoid Damien for the rest of the evening.

Upon catching sight of her reflection in the generously proportioned mirror, her countenance depicted a perfect O of surprise. "Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed, her voice a hushed whisper. Her lustrous hair, once carefully arranged, now appeared disheveled, and traces of blood, unmistakably staining her gown, adorned her neck and elbow.

The thought that Damien had spotted her in such a disheveled state sent a shiver of embarrassment down her spine. With a brisk motion, she shed the soiled garment, discarding it in the waste bin, and gracefully made her way into the awaiting bath.

As she lowered herself into the enveloping warmth, an unbidden sound of contentment escaped her lips, the sensuous touch of the hot water against her bare skin giving her an instant wave of relief. Like the weary traveler finding solace in a welcoming oasis, she felt the fatigue of her overworked muscles and strained joints dissipate gradually under the nurturing embrace of the water.

In the midst of this newfound comfort, a curious notion crossed her mind: could there be something restorative infused within the water? The feeling of lightness and relaxation was unparalleled. After spending a few moments attending to her cleaning, she decided to luxuriate a bit longer, allowing the tranquility of the bath to soothe both her body and mind—and only then did she consider getting out.

One hour later....

Inside the room, Damien was engrossed in the intricate task of attending to his laptop home of his men brought for hime, meticulously crafting responses to a series of emails and navigating a web of pressing calls related to the matter of Director Shaw's whereabouts.

Amidst this medley of responsibilities, a second, steady heartbeat rhythm reached his ears, hinting at the presence of another slumbering soul within the confines of the room, beyond Mr. Turner's repose.

Casting a pensive glance at his wristwatch, Damien's gaze settled on the realization that Lauren had been within the confines of the bathroom for a period spanning a full hour. A subtle furrow creased his brow. "Could there be some other room within, where she sought to rest and sleep unbeknownst to me?" he mused silently in quiet contemplation.

Resuming his work, he mentally gave her an additional thirty minutes to complete her affairs. In the event she didnt come out yet within the designated time frame, he made the decision to look for her inside the bathroom

As the half-hour interval concluded and she remained inside, he efficiently concluded his ongoing calls, securely closed his laptop, set it aside, and proceeded purposefully in the direction of the bathroom.

As he neared, the rhythmic pulsing of the heartbeat grew more pronounced. While he interpreted the steady rhythm as a sign of her peaceful sleep, he felt a lingering need to ensure her well-being.

Knocking twice on the bathroom door yielded no response, prompting him to cautiously enter. Little surprise graced him as he beheld the scene that lay before him: there, ensconced within the resplendent folds of the bathtub, rested the peaceful form of Lauren, gently cradled by the soothing stillness of sleep.

Exhaling softly, he proceeded toward her, each step measured and deliberate. To his relief, a shroud of foam still cloaked her naked form, preserving her modesty in the tranquil embrace of the water. Drawing nearer, he knelt beside her, gently fixing his gaze upon the peaceful countenance she presented in sleep.

The rhythmic cadence of her even breaths, a sweet symphony to his ears, held an enchanting allure. For a fleeting moment, he surrendered to the tranquility, allowing himself to be immersed in the moment, his eyes closing as he cherished the soothing melody only her breaths could weave.