005 A Poison She Sworn Off

Be his.

Catherine hears the sound of her heart blooming.

Knowing this man is bad news is one thing, hearing his luring voice forming such a sentence is still nice. Pleasure is pleasure.

Twisting his question, Catherine leans into his arms, mimicking his whisper: “Tonight I am all yours, and yours only.”

One million just might be the highest price for a night, even in this golden town. Satisfying the customer is her responsibility.

“Smart is good,” The man taps her chin up, his half smile not hiding the coldness in his eyes, “but you don’t want to be too smart.”

Her rejection upset him.

He might extended the offer half-mindedly, but men like him don’t like hearing a no.

Instantly a dangerous feeling grips Catherine. Not sure how she got herself on the back of this tiger.

She knew she shouldn’t have come back with him.

“Our last deal is not done yet, Mr. Moore,” Catherine smiles, brightly though with distance, “why subscribe before the trial expires?”

So long as she can get through tonight, she won’t be listed in the sugar baby market after. Surely Mr. Playboy can turn his attention elsewhere.

“You are worth the full price,” The man seems to be pleased by her business talk. The warm smile is back on his face.

“What’s the full price then?” Catherine plays along.

“How about...” Damian leans in, his lips almost touching her neck, raising such an itchy urge in her as he says, “One, point, seven... billion?”

Catherine’s eyes open wide, and her pupils shrink at the shock. She pushes him away, blurting without thinking: “You investigated me?!”

An evil smirk crawls onto Damian’s face. He shakes his head slowly as if disappointed. Catherine instantly knew -- she showed her hand too fast.

“You are too young for the negotiation table, little girl,” The man pulls out a cigarette almost lazily, lights it with a silver Zippo, and takes a long slow drag yet no smoke comes out. Then he continues, “Lesson one, know the floor price before you get on the table.”

Smoke comes out as the man speaks slowly. Catherine frowns, turning her head to dodge.

“And no, I did not investigate you,” Damian continues, giving the cigarette a light flick, “I wouldn’t get where I am if I had to investigate to know that your dear uncle gulped your father’s company with that number.”

She forgot. He holds the scepter of the whole city’s entertainment & media business in his hand.

Her dear uncle Jacob started hitting the stock of Quinn Corp when her father was still in the ICU, and he got the company at, using Damian’s words, floor price -- the exact number of the company’s debt when he forced the bankruptcy himself.

The company itself is worth ten times that price. And he not only made a huge profit, but also left Catherine and her mom without one single cent.

Damian looks up, just in time to see the girl force back the water in her eyes before putting on a serene smile.

His pupils shiver slightly at that.

“He already got the company. Besides, I know little about business anyways.” The beauty smiles carelessly.

As if the man imagined the pain he just caught in those eyes.

Her father wanted her to live the princess life all the way to the end. Business wasn’t her interest, so he never paved that way for her.

The fragile yet tough smile on the beauty tickles Damian’s heart. He looks away to hide his moment of lost.

“Marry me,” The man concludes simply, putting out the cigratte with a clean move as if nailing a business deal, “I’ll take care of everything.”

Catherine freezes. What?!

The man chuckles at her stunned face, taking it as pleasently surprised,“The best medical care and your father’s company. All can be yours if... you be mine.”

Mine. This is the second time he mentions this word.

This man is poison under a sweet coating. She knew. Yet at this moment, Catherine has to admit she is still tempted.

Tempted doesn’t mean she would act stupidly.

“Does Mr. Moore often picks up girls in the middle of nowhere back to his place for a wedding proposal?” Catherine puts on a proper smile, tuning the topic into a joking tone.

“Just you,” Damian says, playing her hair tauntingly. If only looking at those soulful eyes, you would think him a guy deep in love.

“Don’t tell me,” Catherine smiles harmlessly, yet somehow it lands in the man’s eyes as aggressive, “...the distinguished Mr. Moore is in love with me.”

A shade of amusement flashes through the man’s eyes. An evil smirk crawls onto his lips, as the man says the fakest lines with the most genuine tone: “You caught me. What do they call it... love at first sight?”

She sees him as poison, he can tell. And he tells her that indeed he is. But he won’t take off the coating, and he wants her to take the poison, willingly with her own hands.

He is too lethal. A poison she has sworn off.