"Arabella, wait..." Damon reached out, his hand poised to grasp her arm, but before he could make contact, she had already begun to slip away, melting into the crowd.A sense of helplessness washed over Damon as he watched her recede into the distance, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken apologies. He was about to follow her, but someone stepped in front of him."What did you think of my speech?" Sabrina smiled broadly.With a firm grip, Damon's fingers closed around Sabrina's delicate arm, their pressure conveying a sense of urgency. He guided her forcefully away from the crowd, his steps determined and purposeful. The atmosphere seemed to thicken around them as they stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air offering a brief respite from the heated tension that had enveloped them inside. The distant hum of conversation and music from the party below served as a stark contrast to the silent intensity between Damon and Sabrina as they stood facing each other."What the he
"Hi, Principessa," he greeted."Wrong time to start talking, Damon."Damon placed both hands on the marble edge. With perfect synchronization, Arabella parted her legs, making space for him to position himself between them. In that moment, he felt like he should never have left that spot.Sabrina? Mason? No one else existed.He began to sink into Arabella's body, sliding into her as if he were made for it. Everything happened in slow motion. Their eyes were locked on each other, reflecting pure malice. Damon looked at the woman as she moaned, then looked at himself through the reflection in the mirror.The man's lips traveled to Arabella's throat, and she embraced him with arms and legs. He wanted to put every inch of her into his mouth, savor her skin, and elicit moans, knowing exactly what to do and how to do it. And despite being in his comfort zone, Damon held his breath every time Arabella squeezed him.Every movement excited them more, leading them to the precipice of pleasure s
Every fiber of his being screamed with defiance, but a sense of resignation settled over him like a heavy shroud. He understood all too well the power dynamics at play, the delicate balance of influence and authority that Damon Banks wielded over him. As much as he wanted to lash out, to resist, he knew it would be futile. Going against Banks would only lead to his downfall, and Mason could not afford to jeopardize his own ambitions, no matter how much it grated against his pride. With a deep breath, he forced himself to swallow his pride, to suppress the simmering rage boiling within him. He may have felt like a caged animal, but for now, he had no choice but to bide his time and play the game according to Banks's rules.Damon's expression remained unreadable as Mason approached him tentatively. "So." Mason began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "I divorce Arabella and..." he left the sentence hanging."And the future of the project will be in your hands
"Let's talk, princess.""Not in front of where I work.""Okay, then get in the car." The way Damon spoke, always imposing his will as if it were an order, was interesting."In fact, I plan to take a walk," she tried to change the subject."Stop making things difficult.""Not having time to talk to you isn't making it difficult."Arabella glanced at the people walking by on the sidewalk, completely oblivious to the conversation. And while Damon pondered what he had just heard, his blue eyes were capable of burning the beautiful lady's body."I am not going to ask you to get in the car again," he said."Damon, let's be realistic. We're not compatible. I am not the kind of woman capable of meeting your standards," Arabella sighed. "You came, you wanted me, you intimidated Mason into divorcing me..." she squeezed the bag between her hands. "All this just so you can take pleasure in saying I am yours."He wanted to agree, and he did so in his mind, but the man would be unable to admit tha
And as the Lamborghini raced through the streets of Las Vegas, Arabella could not help but think about how frightening the situation was. Perhaps it was all connected to Mason..."You might lose signal on the highway," Alex stated."That's not the issue. I need an alley, a bridge, anywhere I can drop Arabella off," he replied, not even looking at her."What?" Arabella turned to face Damon as she heard his words."Sir, I do not want to cause panic, but what if the reason for the chase is Miss Collins herself?" Alex's voice came through the car's system, causing a shiver to run down Arabella's spine."Fuck," Damon muttered.At that moment, the speedometer needle was between one hundred and eighty and one hundred and eighty-five. Damon could not increase speed, not within the city. Although the street was long and sparsely populated, it wasn't safe to exceed the limits like this. He just kept going, always looking at the Mustang in the rearview mirror, and noting that the car could stil
Arabella collapsed onto Damon, resting her forehead on the man's shoulder. He, in turn, hugged her with one arm, using only one hand to continue holding the steering wheel.And feeling the exhausted body, Banks could see the lights of the city of Henderson. That's when calmness overtook his spirit, and he smiled relieved. The cars following them could no longer be seen, which meant they had been left behind.However, amidst the chaos, what surprised the man was knowing that his relaxation, largely, was because he knew that Arabella's life would not be compromised, nor her safety.She was okay, and that was all that mattered.**The sun infiltrated the room like a shrewd inspector. The light was capable of revealing traces of the previous night, the early hours, and mid-morning. The open curtains indicated that the people in that room hadn't had time to close them. The clothes scattered on the floor were evidence of how carnal the previous hours had been, of how little time they had
Damon Banks examined the paperwork in his hands. It was a detailed dossier about the life of a certain brunette. He read the information calmly, with a hint of boredom. His eyes turned to his personal assistant, Harley, and then he commented to the man who had provided the report:"Her life is an open book.""There are no surprises, sir. She's a regular girl. She graduated, got married. Never had children."Damon analyzed the bland details of that file. It was about Arabella, no doubt, but it seemed too mundane for a woman like her. There were no surprises, no information, no curiosities, and no novelties."No, she's not a regular girl."He was partly disappointed to learn that the day had not yet come when he would discover who that woman really was. Because when he looked at her, Damon saw danger, mystery, malice, and ill intentions, but looking at that file, all he could see was normalcy."Anything specific I should find out?" Harley offered."I want details about her college. Who
Because three days ago, Damon had no way of knowing that seeing Arabella with someone else would be so uncomfortable. He rested his left ankle on his right knee and began to swing his foot in time to the music. It seemed to be just a common movement, but this was the man's way of releasing the anxiety that was pressing on his chest.Arabella's intention was to dance, dance to try to forget the man who cut her expectations before they grew.But what she was doing was much worse.Even unconsciously, the woman was making regret whip Damon. She made him think of when it was her hands on her body, and her mouth kissing her skin. In a way, Arabella was making sure he did not forget her.The most diabolical part of that vision was the feeling of helplessness. Damon could not make demands, because that was exactly what he disliked in a relationship. He could not talk to Arabella, as he had ended the "Almost relationship” a few days before.What Banks did not know was that regret was a snake.
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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