His order sends my brain into overdrive.
“What is wrong with you?” I frantically dry off my tears. “I'm not going to do that just because you asked me to. What If Damon sees us”
He gives me a blank stare. “I'm sorry do I look like I give two fucks”
I give his expression a once over. “No, you don't.”
“Are you taking it off or should I do you the honors?” He closes the space between us and gently rubs his thumbs on my cheeks, drawing circles that make me have sinful thoughts. He moves his thumb to my lips, as if trying to wipe my lipstick off. I slowly close my eyes and lean into his touch, enjoying the peace and feelings the simple action gives me. I open my eyes when I feel his breath on my face.
I wait for it.
The kiss. But of course he takes his time, torturing me when I decide to give in.
“Enjoy the party” Like a lightening, Damon's voice from outside the kitchen breaks the tension and feelings in the air. The embarrassment and fear hits harder, I can almost hear myself lose the will to leave. I hurriedly move away from him, which must have hurt because his expression turns sour and he mutters strings of curses under his breath.
“Um...” I frantically straighten my dress. “I have to go, Damon must be searching for me”
He sucks in air through his teeth. “No one gives a fuck about Damon. I'm only letting you go because you're going to come over tomorrow night. Right Anastasia?”
Kill me already.
Tomorrow night?
Victor wants me over tomorrow night. I try to turn it down but when the image of Damon, flipping the tables after he sees me in the same space with his father and my dress all rumpled, plays in my head, I slowly nodded.
He quickly drops a kiss on my cheeks and sends me off.
This is wrong. This is totally wrong.
Damon is at the front when I walk out of the kitchen, he abruptly grabs my shoulder and drags me away, his fingers pressing deep into my flesh. I wince.
“This might be my father's party, but we hold as much importance as he does, so the next time you want to tour yourself, think about what people might say when they see me walking around without my wife beside me” He berates in one breath.
I bite my tongue. Trying not to piss him off. “I didn't mean to”
“Of course you didn't” He fakes a smile when we walk past the son of one of the pack's council members. Zack and his fiancee.
After a few moments of walking around and greeting every noble person we see, Damon nudges me to wait while he says hi to a man he knew on one of his business trips. I pick a red wine from one of the walking waiters and wait at a sofa at the corner of the hall.
I unconsciously clench my fists as I watch Damon, get engrossed in conversation with two other men, their voices low and serious as they discuss what sounded like the pack matters pack matters. I can feel the surge of resentment that hits my every fiber and bubbles within me as I observe him, knowing all too well the facade he presents to the world. The lying, cheating, heartless monster he is underneath.
“So, Alpha, how are the numbers looking for the next quarter?” one of the men asked, leaning in closer with a furrowed brow.
Damon chuckles as he nods. “Call me Damon” His expression is stern. "We're seeing some growth, but we need to tighten our grip on the eastern border. There have been reports of rogue wolves encroaching on our territory. I hope your Alpha is doing better”
I grit my teeth, the mention of the pack's safety is a bitter reminder of the constant threat we face, from one death to another, from one disappearance to another. My attention soon diverts as I notice Damon's gaze flicker towards a group of young—possibly—single women gossiping in the corner.
“Some hot women you've got here at berry-woods, looks like I'll be relocating very soon” One of the men chuckles nudging Damon playfully. “Any prospects catching your eye? Or are you the hashtag green flag as my daughter like to call it”
Damon's eyes lingered on the women for a moment before he shrugs nonchalantly. “Just distractions. I've got more important things to focus on. Besides my Luna is more than enough for me”
Liar, Liar, pants on fire.
I'm not mad. Not at anything, not at his dismissive tone. Why would I be, knowing all too well that his wandering eye was nothing new. And the pretense was his daily medication.
I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. My mind drifts back to my sinful encounter with Victor in the kitchen and I can't help but blush at the image my brain was creating.
He wants me over tomorrow night.
To do what.
Of course I already know the answer but I feel better denying that than acknowledging the fact that I might end up in the bedroom with Victor. My husband's father whom I didn't acknowledge until my husband's intimacy with my best friend.
The wild images clears as the sofa sinks next to me. Penelope.
In a rather revealing dress. The dress that she had suggested I wear on my twenty-first birthday. I am married to the alpha, dressing like that would only earn me insults and bruises.
“Oh God, Ana, I have been looking everywhere for you” She tilts her head to the back and sniffs and that's when I notice she's drunk, she always does that whenever she is drunk.
I give her a long stare, gathering myself and giving myself every reason that beating my drunk ex-ish best friend to death is a terrible idea.
“What do you want?” I take a large gulp from my wine and look elsewhere when she raises her head back up.
“Umm...Nothing, actually.I-”She pauses for a second or two. “I just saw Damon earlier and I had thought you were with him.”
It's Damon now.
Not Alpha Damon.
“Oh, Cool”
“Ana?” She calls drowsily. Her tone, softer than ever.
“What?”
She grabs my cheeks and turns my face to her direction. “Ar–Are you mad at me Ana? Did I do something wrong? you've been avoiding me, you don't even look at me” She sniffs. “Do I disgust you that much?”
Yes, Penelope. You disgust me so much that I want to slap the alcohol out from your eyes and make you swallow your lies and pretense.
“Earth to Ana! you just zoned out”
My heart breaks at the thought. If it were before we would have laughed at my funny ability to zone out in the middle of every conversation. It was something Penelope found cute—I don't know if she still does—She always took a picture of me whenever I zoned out mid-watching movies or talking about the hot boys in school. She never stopped ranting on and on about how the men in dramas loved it.
I did absolutely nothing to deserve what she did to me. And yet I don't hate her enough. When did everything start to go wrong?
When did Penelope decide to ruin everything good for me?
“I didn't Zone out Penny” I carefully take her hand away from my face and glance at the men and women walking around until they settled on the man that makes me think that every other man is a child. He gently sips from his cup, making every of his movements sensational.
Oh Moon goddess!
The clock strike twelve, signaling the end of the party as Damon and Victor gracefully concluded their speeches, the guests eagerly dispersed, their laughter and chatter filling the air as they made their way to the bar for another round of wine and revelry, before filing out of the hall after the music ends
From my vantage point in the corner of the room, I watch the scene unfold with a mix of weariness and resignation. Beside me are two of Victor's closest friends, their jovial expressions tempered by the haze of alcohol that lingered in the air. Across the room, I spot Penelope, her drunken giggles echoing loudly as she lean heavily on Damon, who remains stoically nonchalant despite her obvious sex attempt.
As the last of the guests filed out of the hall and into their respective cars, a sense of quiet descended upon the room, punctuated only by the soft murmurs of the remaining guards and the imposing figure of Victor, who surveys the scene with a watchful gaze.
“Have a safe drive home” Victor gives the last couple in the hall a pat on their shoulders and then watches as they walk out. He turns back to us with a deep breath, his eyes meeting mine for only a split second.
“Manuel” He calls the guard standing close to me. “Please drive Mr and Mrs Smith home, their driver have an emergency to take care of”
“Yes Sir!”
Manuel leads the couple out and that is when Damon decides to speak up. “Father please have your one of your guards take Anastasia home, Penelope is a bit tipsy so I'll drop her home”
I, of course, stand by silently as Damon offers to drop Penelope off, my heart sinking with a familiar ache as I realize again, that I am not even considered. But I still keep my composure, masking the hurt beneath a facade of indifference. This isn't the first time Damon has disregarded my feelings, and I know it won't be the last.
I can see Victor's controlled demeanor cover the simmering anger within him as he nods in response to Damon's suggestion. He motions for two guards to escort me home.
I watch as Damon departs with Penelope, a pang of sorrow gripping my heart. I know I should feel shock or outrage, but instead, a numb resignation settled over me like a heavy shroud.
As I finally prepare to leave, Victor's unexpected gesture catches me off guard. With a swift movement, he pulls me close, his lips meeting mine in a desperate kiss that spoke volumes of unfulfilled sinful desires.
For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to be swept away by the intensity of his calming touch, finding solace in the warmth of his lips against mine.
This is what I need.
But as he release me, I am reminded once again of the harsh reality awaiting me outside of his calming embrace.
With what seems like a heavy heart, I bid Victor farewell, steeling myself for the lonely journey home, where the echoes of Damon's indifference will continue to haunt me long into the night.
My mind races with tumultuous thoughts as I drive home, the memory of Victor's kiss lingering like a bittersweet echo in the depths of my soul. I know it is wrong, forbidden even, but I can't deny the undeniable pull I feel towards him, a magnetic attraction that defies reason.
I wonder if he feels the same, or if this is one of the games he pulls like he did in his early years.
Yes, everyone knows it.
Victor has a past with women. With different caliber of women, and how it made his wife insecure. It is his past, I know, but the thought of loving a man who has a bad reputation with women and still acts like he can't live without me. Like my very absence takes away his breath.
As I pull into the driveway, I can feel my heart sink to the bottom of my being at the sight of Damon, his usually composed facade shattered by anger.
But as she stepped out of the car and met Damon's furious gaze, a sense of foreboding washed over her like a chilling wave.
Only one question comes to mind.
As I approached Damon, a sense of apprehension gnawed at my insides, my steps hesitant and cautious. His usually composed and aloof demeanor is now twisted into a mask of fury and rage, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. Before I can even utter a word, his hand collides with my cheek in a stinging slap, the force of the blow sending shockwaves of pain radiating through my skull. I stumble backward, my vision swimming with tears as I struggled to comprehend the sudden onslaught of violence. But Damon isn't finished yet. With a strong grip on the collar of my dress, he yanks me towards him, his face so close to mine that I could smell his breath, it reeks of alcohol and bitterness. It is then that I realize he's drunk, his senses clouded all the alcohol he took. As he glares down at me with a mixture of what seems like contempt and disdain, a very sickening realization dawns upon me. Penelope, of course it has to be Penelope. That scheming biatch.
I groggily wake up the next morning to a disturbing noise. I open my eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep as Damon's noisy dress-up routine fills the room. He paces back and forth, muttering to himself as he rummage through drawers and closets in search of who knows what. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and approached him, hoping to offer assistance or at least inquire about the cause of his unsettled morning. “What's the matter, Damon?” I asked, my voice lace with concern that I hate. But he merely brushed past me without a word, his attention consumed by whatever task lay before him. It was a familiar scene, his disregard for my presence, a constant reminder of the growing differences between us. I make my way to the bathroom, and soak myself under the warm water from the shower. It is a better choice. The shower I mean. If I choose to use the tub today, I might not make it out in a good piece. Not after what happened last night. Oh! don't be surprised you don't expe
The rest of the day passes by in a blur with me attending to a few women, pushing our new clothing brand further and having dinner alone because Damon gave me one look and decided that I was repulsive and he'd rather eat out with a bunch of his friends. With possibly Penelope inclusive.It's nine pm and I'm dressed In a backless cami dress with a thigh high split. Black as Victor wants. The faux suede chunky heeled sandals with ankle strap is cream colored. I also have a faux fur coat. I reach for my bag on the bed and that moment my phone rings. It's Vincent, but it just has ‘V’ displaying on the screen. I pick the call at third ring to not come off desperate.“Hey” His deep attention seeking voice comes from the other end. “You still coming?”His voice keeps doing foreign things to me, so I take a moment to compose myself before replying. “Hmm” I take a sharp breath. “Yeah, will be there soon”“I will be waiting” He response is soft.I hummed a bye before ending the call. I grab th
My breath hitches and Victor notices, his pale lips stretch into his signature grin, one that I can never get tired of.“Hey, princess” he gently takes the mitten off and motions the guard to go, and he does.“What are you cooking?” I ask, dropping my back on the cellar counter. Anything to reduce the tension in the air.He chuckles instead and disappears Into the kitchen, and appears after a few seconds.This time the apron's off, only rock hard abs, and the bulge in his pants.I gulp nothing and hurriedly take my eyes away from him. Mr. Temptation.Instead I try to take in my surroundings, the classy-vintage theme. “Like it?” He asks, I can hear him slowly walk to me. He stands behind me. My senses heightened, obvious of his every tiny money, even his breath.“Yes–Yeah” I take a deep breath but it does absolutely nothing to calm my accelerating heartbeat. “It's cozy” I rub my palms together.His hands gently holds my waist and I steel for a moment. Deep breath Anna.Deep breath.He
Victor arrives a few minutes later, carrying two empty ceramic dishes adorned with sunflower patterns. He sets them down on the pristine white dining table before disappearing back into the kitchen. Moments later, he reappears, this time holding a ceramic soup pot in one hand and a tantalizing apple pie in the other. My mouth waters at the sight of the delicious spread before me.After placing the dishes on the table, He excuses himself to go freshen up, explaining that he's soaked in sweat, which I don't mind. Picture him shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat, and and tell me you don't feel what I feel.As he heads upstairs to change, he encourages me to take a look around while he's gone. I nod absentmindedly, my gaze already wandering around the room as I eagerly await his return.I step into what looks like a cozy resting room, furnished with oversized sofas, a bean bag, a flat-screen TV, and even a fireplace, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. As I take in the room, I n
Victor returns just as the movie comes to an end. He brushes off some dirt from his shirt and pulls it off before plopping down on the same sofa I'm sitting on."What did I miss?" he asks, running his fingers through my hair. It's relaxing.“Everything. What's next?” I reply, curious about what he has planned.“Dessert, dessert,” He says, and instead of explaining what that actually mean He reaches out in front of me and scoops up some of my ice cream with my spoon. “You've had your dessert, now it's my turn,” He adds with a playful grin.He tightens his grip around my hair and tilts my head back slightly, allowing me to see his sharp features more clearly. The dark lust in his eyes. I take it in and before I could ask what that means, I feel a cold smooth liquid drip on my breast, the sensation sends shovers down my spine and makes my clit itch.I try to catch a glimpse of what he's doing, but he doesn't allow me to, instead his grip on my hair tightens even more.He leans closer to
I arrive home a few minutes past seven the next morning, tired and worn out. Damon still hasn't returned, but there's a package waiting for me, the one he mentioned before. I don't bother wondering what's inside; instead, I pick it up and head straight for the bedroom.Tossing the package into Damon's closet, I make my way to the bathroom. The scent of sex lingers on my skin, so I decide to take a short, warm bath to freshen up. Emerging from the bathroom, I wrap myself in a towel adorned with doodles of flowers.As I prepare to dress up, my phone vibrates on the mattress. It's Victor. I answer after the second ring."You home yet?" he asks."Yeah," I reply, stifling a yawn. "Took a shower and is about to hibernate. See you in 2028."He chuckles at my lame joke. "Guess what?"My interest piques. "What?""So, I just realized that while you were moaning down the entire building, the macaroni leftover from two nights ago with a few friends was still inside the microwave, on low heat thou
Breakfast didn't go as planned this morning. Damon woke up and decided to check the package I carelessly flung into his closet when I got back. He called me, asking where it was, and I nonchalantly told him it was in his closet before returning to the kitchen to check on my toast. But then he opened it and saw that the Victoria's Secret perfume he bought had broken, ruining the cheap white dinner dress in the box that I think he bought for Penelope. The dress is cheap for a reason; I mean, why would a supposed $900 dress—as he claimed—turn black at the slightest contact with liquid? It's ridiculous.It's my fault, I know, but honestly who the fuck care.Right! No one, because Damon is an Alpha Douchebag who's power only surfaces in the present of women.He got seriously angry, called me in, and threw a piece of the broken perfume vial at me. I ended up with a pretty deep scratch on my forehead. Now I'm sitting in front of my vanity table and mirror after Zara treated the cut before I