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I froze.
His hand kept moving. I tried to blink, tried to speak, but nothing came out.
My eyes dropped before I could stop them, landing straight on his cock. His fingers wrapped around it with so much control it made my legs lock in place.
Another low groan rolled from his throat. His head tipped back against the headboard, sweat glistening down his chest and then he looked at me.
His eyes didn’t widen, didn’t flinch, or even pause.
The second he stood, I heard the creak of the bed frame and thenhe stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell him. “What are you doing in my room?” His voice was hard.
My lips parted. I tried to say something, but he stepped closer, hand gripping the edge of the door. “Do you know no one is allowed in here? Ever?”
My mouth finally worked. “I didn’t know. I thought it was mine.” I forced myself to breathe. “Linda showed me a room last night. I must’ve gone back to the wrong one. I swear I didn’t mean to come here.”
His jaw stayed tight, eyes pinned on me like I was a threat.
“I’m not lying,” I said, voice cracking. “I came to get water. That’s it. I didn’t expect to find… you.”
To find you jerking off! I wanted to scream.
I stepped back without waiting for a response, pulled the door open and slipped out. The hallway felt colder. I didn’t even look where I was going. I found the other room by instinct and shut the door behind me fast, locking it with shaking hands.
I dropped onto the bed, pulled the sheets around me, and pressed my face into the pillow.
Tears slid out of my eyes and soaked into the fabric. I didn’t sob. I just laid there, silent and embarrassed, wishing I could disappear. I didn’t know if it was the way he looked at me like I was trash or the way I stood there frozen watching him like I’d never seen a man before. What was happening to my life in such a short time?
At some point, I fell asleep.
By morning, my throat was sore, and my head felt heavy. I didn’t bother doing much. I walked to the dining hall in whatever silk dress they gave me, hair a mess, eyes still burning.
Damien was already there. Seated at the head of the table like the night before hadn’t
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happened. His suit was perfect, his expression blank.
I sat down slowly.
“You didn’t sleep,” he said.
I kept my eyes on the plate in front of me. “I want to go home.”
His head turned.
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“I need to get my stuff,” I added. “Toothbrush, clothes, meds, you can’t expect me to live here with nothing.”
“You’re not going alone.”
“I didn’t ask to.” I looked up, met his stare.
He didn’t blink. “If this is a trick to run, it won’t work.”
“It’s not,” I said. “I wouldn’t be dumb enough to run when you’ve made it clear you’d find me.”
He gave a short nod, then stood. “Be ready in an hour.”
He walked out without another word, and I sat there in silence, trying not to cry again.
The car waiting outside wasn’t just expensive, it was stupid expensive.
Blacked out, sleek, rims shining like glass, with two identical SUVs in front and behind it.
Every man stepping out of them looked like he’d killed someone and would do it again. if Damien snapped his fingers.
I stood frozen on the steps, clutching my purse tighter, watching guards in all black scan the area like we were about to enter enemy territory.
Damien walked past me without saying a word. The back door opened, and I climbed into a leather seat that felt softer than my own bed.
My thighs stuck to it slightly, nerves making my skin hot. Damien slid in beside me. His scent filled the car instantly.
The divider between us and the driver went up before I could say anything.
Every time I looked out the window, I caught flashes of the guards’ earpieces and motorcycles flanking the convoy like we were transporting the fucking president.
I didn’t say a word and neither did Damien.
When the gates of my house came into view, my stomach sank.
The place was already ugly to me, but now it looked worse.
Damien’s men stepped out first, two of them positioned themselves at the gate.
One scanned the perimeter. Damien stayed seated for a second longer, fingers
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Damien’s men stepped out first, two of them positioned themselves at the gate.
One scanned the perimeter. Damien stayed seated for a second longer, fingers tapping once on his knee, then the door swung open
I got out. My legs were shaking. I didn’t know if it was fear or shame or just the buildup of everything.
I stepped toward the house.
The door yanked open before I touched it.
Marcus.
His face twisted the second he saw me. “You bitch,” he snapped, voice already rising.” You didn’t even say where you went. You disappear, and now you think you can just come back?”
I froze.
He stepped forward fast. “You think you can just walk in here like nothing happened? What, you come back pregnant and delusional now?”
“I’m not here for this,” I said, voice low. “I just came for my stuff.”
“You don’t live here anymore,” he spat. “You’re not welcome. You hear me?”
My hands curled at my sides. I swallowed hard. “I’m not here to fight. I just want my things.”
“You don’t get to want anything,” he barked. “You ungrateful little…”
He raised his hand like he was about to hit me but he never got the chance.
A blur moved past me.
Suddenly, Marcus was pinned to the wall, Damien’s hand wrapped tight around his throat. Marcus’s feet barely touched the ground, his hands clawing at Damien’s wrist, face turning red.
Damien’s voice was low when he added, “don’t you dare touch my girl.”
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