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THE BILLIONAIRE OBSESSED WITH A MARRIED WOMAN 13
The priest continued walking towards the sacristy, and he returned to the place of the faithful, the hall where masses are held. Although he had spent years away from any piece of Catholicism, Damon remembered all the details. The problem with photographic memory is that you can't choose what gets engraved in the brain.The confessional was located in another corridor, in the farthest and less illuminated area of the church. Rumor had it that it was secluded because it was the place where priests chose to seduce parishioners. The confessional was closed, having only one door for the priest to enter. It was a kind of old wooden box. The side windows were covered with screens, so the priest could see the parishioner, but the parishioner could not see the priest. There was a step outside, so the penitent could kneel while confessing.That was his favorite part. To kneel and wait for the priest to tell him how far he was from holiness, knowing that he was getting worse every day and tha
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"So, how was the confession?" Eleonor asked, breaking the silence that hung in the vehicle. "You took quite a while in there.""It was a relief. I really needed to get things off my chest," Arabella replied, her tone tinged with gratitude."I am glad you are feeling more at ease. we will have lunch with your family, as they requested, and then we will head to the office. Mason wants you to add a special touch to the project," Eleonor informed, keeping her eyes fixed on the road ahead.Arabella rolled her eyes with a disdainful expression. "Of course. After all, Mason can't improve his own business project," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.Eleonor chose to remain silent. She was in a good mood that day, and not even Arabella's insolence could spoil her state of mind.When they arrived in front of the Collins house, Arabella jumped out of the car as soon as she couldAs Arabella entered the familiar warmth of her childhood home, the tension that had plagued her in Eleonor
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In fact, it wasn't a dream. It was a memory of the night she spent with Damon.Arabella got up, knowing she would not be able to sleep anymore after the dream about Damon. She went to the desk where the Phantom Group project was and started working. The next day, there would be a dinner with Damon Banks, and she needed to be prepared. She needed the project to be approved so she could then get rid of Mason.**The reason why casinos were legal in Las Vegas was simple; no one would be unhappy if they could indulge in sins. What people judged and repudiated elsewhere was entertainment in Vegas, it was what they called a Monday.At the Wynn Las Vegas Casino, one of the most luxurious settings in Sin City, a cocktail party was beginning. A relatively small gathering, for just over a hundred wealthy people. This would not be an ordinary night, with million-dollar games rolling on the tables, or golden call girls dancing around the hall. The night promised much more.The casino's decor was
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"Let's go," Will placed his hand at the base of Arabella's spine and guided her to the table.The eye contact occurred when Arabella decided she was ready to face Damon and not dwell on the taste he had.Damon seemed to be at home, in a completely comfortable environment for him. His commanding yet relaxed posture showed that he was not far from his comfort zone. On the other hand, Arabella was completely far from what she considered normal."Do we have room for one more?" Will looked at Damon, then at the women at the table. They were all young, between their twenties and thirties. All of them, also, possessed undeniably captivating beauty."We always have room for one more," one of the women, the brunette, murmured, already moving aside to make space."Welcome, Miss Collins," the blonde, Damon's companion, smiled.From the women's postures, Arabella understood what this gathering was about. The women were not welcoming her simply because they liked her, but because the end of the n
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"I can still manage my fucking time, Arabella."Upon hearing those words and letting them take effect, Arabella stopped. She simply froze, right in the middle of the hall. She thought about it, and almost wanted to laugh. Turning to Damon again, she began to speak her first thought, without filters: "You are here because you saw the perfect opportunity to bring a model. do not act like your effort is for me, because despite having the chance to be with me, you still prefer them."Damon took a step toward Arabella to ensure more privacy. In their current position, his lips were only inches away from her ear. The proximity sparked electricity, but they were too exposed to release the energy. Arabella felt her body react internally, but the only expression she had was a soft sigh."You have no idea of the effort I would make for you," he whispered."You do not need to make an effort, Mr. Banks. Your intentions are clear," she retorted."Are they really? Because you still seem irritated
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Instinctively, she halted in her tracks, her senses on high alert. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled with a mixture of apprehension and disbelief. Could it be? "You are a good bitch, aren't you?" the voices continued.Heart pounding in her chest, Arabella's steps faltered as she strained to discern the voices. And then, amidst the chorus of groans, a voice rose above the rest... a voice she knew all too well. It was Mason's voice, laden with an intensity that sent a chill coursing through her veins.Frozen in place, a torrent of emotions surged within Arabella — confusion, anger, and a gnawing sense of humiliation. With trembling hands and a racing mind, Arabella contemplated her next move. Should she confront Mason? Demand answers? Or should she retreat, pretend she hadn't heard anything, and confront him later when she had gathered her thoughts?Caught in the throes of indecision, Arabella stood rooted to the spot. "Keep on your knees, Arabella," Mason's voice echoed f
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"Collins residence," Victor's voice greeted her on the other end of the line, tinged with a hint of weariness."Dad?" Arabella's confusion was evident in her voice. "Where's the secretary?"There was a pause on the other end of the line, a pregnant silence that spoke volumes. "Ah... Arabella, dear. Well, she..." Victor's voice faltered slightly, as if he were searching for the right words. "We no longer have a secretary."Arabella's brow furrowed in disbelief. "What? Why?""It's a very high cost, dear," Victor explained, his tone apologetic."But you sold the..." Arabella's words trailed off, her mind racing. "Is the money gone?""Arabella, why did you call?" Victor attempted to deflect, but Arabella was not so easily swayed."Answer me, Victor. Is the money gone?" Her voice was firm, her resolve unyielding."Arabella, when you last visited, Eleonor was with you, and I did not want to add another burden to your shoulders," Victor began, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Yes, I sold the c
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"You might think..." the woman began, but she was interrupted."I can assure it."Damon approached Arabella, but she stepped back. Regaining her composure and quickly putting some distance between them, she felt intimidated. At this stage of the game, she knew it would only be a matter of opportunity until she surrendered completely, and the last thing she wanted was to have Eleonor tormenting her life for discovering her weakness: Damon Banks."How many times did I give in to your advances?" the woman raised her chin slightly, with confidence and a hint of audacity.The storage room was relatively spacious, but it felt cramped as he walked the few steps separating him from Arabella. The man wanted to say something, however, feeling that perfume that he had stored in his mind was like applying amnesia to his brain. Every inch of proximity was poisonous; a dose that would not leave them sober anytime soon."None," she said, taking his silence as an answer.Arabella did not flinch when
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THE BILLIONAIRE OBSESSED WITH A MARRIED WOMAN 90 - THE END
The cold rain outside seemed to intensify the warmth emanating from the crackling fireplace. Arabella nestled herself closer to the flickering flames, her mind consumed by the storm of thoughts swirling within her."Here," Damon's voice, soft and soothing, broke through her reverie. He offered her a steaming cup, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding."Thank you," Arabella murmured, accepting the cup with a small, grateful smile. Though she held it in her hands, she seemed more drawn to the comfort of Damon's presence than to the warmth of the drink.As Damon settled beside her, Arabella felt a hesitant longing stirring within her. She turned towards him, their eyes meeting in the flickering firelight, and in that moment, words seemed unnecessary. There was a silent communion between them, an unspoken understanding of shared pain and solace.Without a word, Arabella leaned into Damon's embrace, seeking refuge from the tempest of emotions raging within her. His arms enveloped
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ONE YEAR LATERThe atmosphere was as funereal as the situation itself. The sun hadn't visited that part of the city since the previous day, as if it were also in mourning. Heavy clouds and timid splashes of rain were present, which only made the day seem less happy.A white tent chapel had been placed in the mansion's garden. It was a large space, enough to accommodate the thirty people present. The dark wooden coffin was centered in the chapel, open so everyone could see Victor's limp, pale body.White chrysanthemums decorated the coffin. Those were traditional flowers at wakes, and they meant "Golden flower”, from the Greek.Three of Victor's friends were next to the coffin, crying softly and drying their tears with a tissue as they recalled their journey. They were long-time friends. Their suits were as dark as the sky, representing perhaps eternal mourning.That was the garden of the mansion that Arabella had bought months before. She barely had time to get used to the place.Anas
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HOURS LATERAs Damon stepped into his city apartment, a heavy silence greeted him, amplified by the absence of any illumination. The darkness enveloped him like a heavy cloak, its weight pressing down on his shoulders as he traversed the familiar space. He made no move to flick on a light switch, preferring instead to let the shadows consume him, mirroring the desolation that gnawed at his insides.Approaching the drinks table, he reached for a decanter, his hand moving with practiced precision as he poured himself a potent measure of whiskey. The liquid glimmered faintly in the dimness, casting fleeting reflections against the polished surface of the glass. With a solemn sigh, he lifted the drink to his lips, the fiery liquid igniting a dull ache in his chest as it slid down his throat.Leaning against the window, he gazed out at the city sprawled before him, its towering buildings reaching up towards the inky sky like silent sentinels. The nocturnal metropolis seemed to pulse w
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The interior of the vehicle was permeated with Banks's scent. He wore an excessively good perfume, not exactly strong, but rather striking. It was the kind of smell that only a person with a lot of money would have.The door was closed, and because she was in a complete trance, Arabella was scared. Christopher wisely remained outside so that he would not hear the conversation.Banks, with her naturally dark charm, twirled the ring on her middle finger while pretentiously ignoring Arabella. His gaze was directed forward, but so far away that it did not even seem like he was in that country.The woman moved closer to the door, as if it were possible to merge with the car. Damon noticed the movement, but did not bother to assure her that she did not need to be afraid. Because maybe she needed it."Everything is fine with you?" Arabella whispered so quietly that she wasn't sure she was heard, even with all the silence that surrounded them.Damon remained silent, and then he sank deeper in
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And with that, everyone burst into prolonged applause. Some even stood up, but no one really knew the intention behind the speech. All that was left was for him to say Arabella's name, with each letter."Thank you all for coming. And if it's not too much to ask, be loyal. do not love me, but be loyal" Damon walked away from the pulpit and went down the stairs as he had gone up; ignoring all the eyes on you.In turn, the master of ceremonies returned to say a few words. "I am flattered by the opportunity to hear you, Mr. Banks. Now, for the entertainment of our audience, I would like to call to the stage Mr. Landwy, the evening's violinist."Arabella waited until the first chords of the violin sounded before muttering something to her father and standing up. People did not notice when she walked in long strides to the bathroom, as at this moment wine glasses began to be served throughout the room.Arabella thought that she could take refuge in that luxurious environment for the rest of
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TWO DAYS LATER. NEW YORK.The dress shone when the few lights that filtered through the window touched it. The fabric was thin, sliding across the white skin with each subtle movement. The blue silk was a pure, almost innocent tone.Arabella was sitting in the backseat of the Bentley, and, next to her, Victor was also watching the view of the New York streets as the car passed through them. They were silent, as on many other occasions, but they were not uncomfortable. At least not with each other.Victor's treatment was having some effect. The best doctors in the city were taking care of him, at Damon's request, paid for by Damon.The father wore a tuxedo, the daughter wore a beautiful sky blue dress, along with long gloves in the same color. Her brown strands were tied into a high bun, with a few curls perfectly curled and loose.And when the car stopped in front of the Banks Nouveau building, the lady felt her hands sweat inside her gloves. There were countless photographers outside
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Banks took a deep breath. Their brief moment of silence was enough to make Colton and Spencer's hearts race."You are up to your neck in this story, but she's not. Arabella's the only good part of this whole shit. Think about that before you backtrack," Spencer muttered, just in case.And to say those words did not reach Banks would be a lie. He felt them as if they were punches to his face, but he knew how to pretend to be careless. Because, deep down, maybe he agreed."I do not usually go back"Damon, seeing that the conversation had come to an end, turned his back to the inspector. He even glanced at Colton. Banks made a subtle sign with her index finger and the security guards returned to the car."But in any case, when you decide to join people in destroying me, find stronger allies" he muttered before entering the door that his driver kept open.The first car made a subtle maneuver inside the warehouse and slid out, followed by the second.And then, just then, Colton approached
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TWO DAYS LATERThe lights of New York were known throughout the world. The city awakens, with people bustling around and never, ever stopping. It was a place famous for everything it showed, but few people knew what New York was hiding. Few knew the shadows of the most illuminated city in the world.The shadows were in the suburbs, in isolated areas that not even the sun could reach. Where the streets were muddy, buildings were abandoned and people cried without hope.In a less busy area, where the asphalt ended and the dirt streets began, there was an abandoned warehouse. It was an unfinished building, with exposed bricks and half-shattered pillars.The smell from the warehouse was unsanitary.Dust had dominated the four corners of the room, and everything that was there was abandoned. There were crates at the ends of the warehouse, covered with a dark, dirty tarpaulin.Spencer Davis was in the warehouse, sitting in a chair almost as old as the one he had in his office. Behind the ma
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SOME HOURS LATERWith a graceful stride, Arabella entered the conference room, commanding attention in her ensemble — an elegant green dress complemented by sleek heels. Her hair, neatly pinned back, accentuated her sharp features, and as she walked, there was an air of confidence about her."Good afternoon, gentlemen," she greeted, her voice carrying a polite tone subtly infused with determination."Miss Collins," Louis Tompson, the lawyer, rose from his seat upon her arrival, extending his hand in a gesture of sympathy. "My condolences for the divorce?"Arabella's response was swift and resolute. "Not at all," she declared, dismissing any notion of condolence.Seating herself across from Mason, with Tompson positioned at the head of the table, Arabella's eyes met Mason's with a mixture of disdain and relief. Gone was the power he once held over her — she was free now, and she made sure he knew it."Now, the purpose of this meeting is to align the restructuring of the companies," th
