CH.3

Joey was adorned in a red bondage bikini with a garter belt that barely concealed her curves as she perched provocatively on the edge of the plush bed.

Her makeup was a work of art, with smoky eyes and audacious matte red lipstick that demanded attention.

Her hair was artfully tousled into an updo that exuded a sense of wild abandon.

Draped around her neck was an extravagantly expensive choker necklace, adding an air of luxury to her ensemble.

Her feet were accentuated with black stilettos, their red soles hinting at a daring persona.

As Dane entered the room, Joey rose from her seated position.

Her eyes glinted with desire yet held a trace of apprehension as they roamed over his well-defined chest muscles.

A surge of fear prickled through her when she met his gaze that brewed with a stormy sea of anger and malice.

Her breath hitched in anticipation as Dane prowled towards her, his lips curling into an ominous smirk.

"Sir—" Joey's voice wavered, breaking off into a gasp when Dane unexpectedly splashed whiskey on her.

Then he threw her on the bed, descending on her like a feral beast unleashed.

A terrified scream tore from her throat which was quickly muffled with her hands when he shot her a death stare.

Dane pushed aside her scant lace underwear with one hand while his other hand worked hastily to unbutton his pants.

His teeth found purchase in the tender hollow of her shoulder, grazing against it mercilessly and drawing another agonized scream from Joey's lips.

A harsh slap from Dane sent stars dancing before her eyes as she futilely struggled against his iron grip.

With ruthless disregard for her fear and pain, he swiftly disrobed himself before tearing away at what remained of Joey's lingerie - an obstacle hindering his movements.

Dane had no patience for such nuisances nor did he care for the terror-stricken girl beneath him.

He flipped Joey over with brute force, his erection evident.

With a harsh thrust, he broke into her - shattering her defenses without any semblance of mercy.

This night, the silence was shattered by Joey's heart-wrenching screams as she fell prey to the beast that was Dane.

~MEANWHILE~

A secret agent was stationed in a certain hospital to keep an eye on a certain breath-taking mixed-race girl with blond hair and green eyes.

The young lady extended her hand to check the time on her watch, which revealed it was two o'clock in the morning.

Her shift at the hospital had just ended, and she was sitting with a couple of other female coworkers while they chatted nonstop about various topics related to the hospital and other issues.

Her eyes could barely stay open as she sat there and listened quietly without uttering a word.

Her eyes were just beginning to close when one of her coworkers suddenly grabbed her hand to examine the ring that was on her ring finger.

It was her engagement ring from the love of her life—Lincoln Blake, serving as the official symbol of their love.

"It looks quite nice even though it has a fairly simple construction," one of her colleagues commented.

"How can you possibly call this simple? Even if we sold you, you wouldn't bring in even half of what we'd need for the ring. If I didn't know better, I’d believe you were jealous of her based on the way your statement sounded,” another person retorted.

Scarlet withdrew her hand from her coworker in a manner that was both kind and polite, but she did not pay attention to the inanities they were discussing.

She never paid heed to women's gossip. She was more self-aware than she ought to be.

Scarlet had a solid comprehension of the future responsibilities that will be placed on her shoulders and she was prepared to take on those challenges.

Though she despised the attention that was going to be on her. Being married into a well-known family in the field of economics was a public affair.

Many women had dreams about him, but she had him.

This was a responsibility that society had bestowed on her, and she must fulfill it.

People were already keeping a close eye on her because she was Scarlet Wovers, daughter of the state capital. And the attention would only increase once she was married.

Scarlet’s thoughts drifted to her soon-to-be husband.

His personality was demanding, cold, and did not forgive mistakes.

‘Living with his coldness and possessive personality will be the most challenging aspect of it all,’ she sighed internally.

Her phone buzzed just then, indicating an incoming message.

“Five minutes.” The message read.

Then she got to her feet, grabbed her bag, and stuffed it full of her personal belongings.

With that, she strode toward the exit stealthily without looking at her coworkers, making her way outside the hospital's walls.

Scarlet waited on the sidewalk all the while keeping her opulent watch that adorned her female wrist in view until Lincoln's sleek black Audi finally pulled up in front of her after a little delay.

"Hey babe, how was the daily grind today? Don't tell me you were a workaholic again," Lincoln said with a smirk as Scarlet climbed into the passenger seat.

"Ugh, it was absolutely draining," she groaned, immediately resting her head on his shoulder and letting out a long yawn.

Her eyes were heavy and her blond hair was a tousled mess.

"I'm sorry, baby. I know your training program is intense but they really pack a lot in a short time," Lincoln spoke softly, gently caressing her flushed cheeks with his fingers.

Scarlet let out a soft moan of contentment, nuzzling closer into his touch. Her eyes fluttered closed as the exhaustion washed over her and within moments, her breathing slowed into a gentle, sleeping rhythm.

"Babe?" Lincoln called out tenderly when he felt her head growing heavier on his shoulder, but she was fully conked out.

A charming half-smile played across his lips before turning his focus back to the road.

The gates to the Wovers mansion were already open, the security cameras recognizing Lincoln's car once it approached.

He pulled into the attached garage. Then he carefully maneuvered Scarlet's sleeping form into his arms and carried her inside, not wanting to wake her.

As soon as they entered the grand foyer, Lincoln was a bit taken aback to see Scarlet's mother waiting with a concerned expression.

"Evening, Mrs. Wovers," he greeted politely.

"Lincoln, dear, you got her home safe. I was worried sick with her staying so late at the office. It makes me shudder thinking something could happen to her. I don't know why she insists on this simple lifestyle with no security detail."

"No need to fret, Ma’am. She's just plumb tuckered out but perfectly fine," Lincoln reassured her. "I've got people keeping tabs on her even when I can't be there myself. If for some reason I couldn't pick her up, they would've brought her home safe. If you don't mind, I'm just going to get her tucked into bed and stay with her 'til she wakes up."

Mrs. Wovers nodded gratefully. "Thank you, son. This is her home too, so make yourselves comfortable."

Lincoln murmured his thanks.

With that, he carefully carried Scarlet up to her bedroom, gently laid her down on the bed, shrugged off his jacket and stretched out beside her.

----

**At another location**

Dane ran his fingers through his tousled hair and pulled tightly with a grunt of frustration.

He hated the smell that currently permeated this room.

His low grunt of exasperation jolted the exhausted Joey from her slumber.

She shot a perplexed look at the clock hanging grandiosely on the wall, its ornate hands illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the curtains. She was taken aback to see that it was half past 3 in the dead of night.

A mischievous grin spread across Joey’s face as she took in the sight of Dane's shirtless form silhouetted against the window.

She burrowed back into the softness of her pillow, inhaling his lingering scent on the sheets.

Then she shifted her attention back to the man standing by the window, cradling his fourth glass of amber whiskey.

“Sir—”

“Get out!” Dane interrupted sharply.

A knot of unease tightened in Joey's throat like a sudden lump that was hard to swallow.

She was perplexed by the surge of indignation bubbling within her. After all, hadn't she known from the start what their arrangement entailed?

She was but a temporary solace for his nightly desires, a fleeting distraction from his lonely existence.

Nevertheless, a stubborn part of Joey refused to wave the white flag so readily.

Her voice trembled as she mustered the courage to speak again. "Sir," she began tentatively, "If you find yourself desiring my company once more, know that I stand ready at your beck and call."

Joey bit down on her lower lip nervously, eyes clamped shut in anticipation. A tiny seed of hope had been planted in her heart. Perhaps his response would water it into blooming joy.

However, her hopes were brutally crushed when his icy reply hit her like a gust of winter wind. "I don’t repeat my toys! Now get out!!" The words were delivered with such detached coolness that it sent shivers down Joey's spine.

She nodded reluctantly, disappointment etching deep lines on her face.

Gathering up her clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor, she made her silent exit.

Hot tears welled up in her eyes and blurred her vision as she wobbled on shaky legs, still reeling from their harsh session.

But who was truly at fault here?

The bitter taste of regret filled Joey's mouth as she acknowledged an unpalatable truth - this was simply how he operated.

He brought women into his bed each night under no pretenses—a virgin specifically—and cast them aside like spent matches once he'd satisfied his lustful cravings.

And yet they kept coming back to him—women like herself—despite knowing about his controlling nature and ruthless disposition.

His violence didn't deter them; instead, it seemed to draw them in like moths to a flame. Thus, this question lingered heavily in Joey’s mind: who was really to blame here?