Damian sat at his desk, slowly eating his dinner, though the food tasted like ash in his mouth. His mind was elsewhere—focused on the danger Elara had placed herself in, the threat of Charles looming larger with every passing moment.Just as he finished the last bite, his phone buzzed again. His pulse quickened. He snatched it up, expecting an update from Jackson, but it wasn’t. It was his top security man.“We were able to trace your wife, sir,” the man said as soon as Damian picked up the call.Damian immediately rose to his feet. With a low but scary voice, he responded. “Where? Where is she?”“We were able to trace her phone, sir, but…” The voice over the phone paused.“But what?” Damian yelled. “Fucking answer my question.”“We lost her again.”“You lost her, or the phone?” Damian demanded.“Both.”He rubbed his hair in frustration. “Why? Why the heck are you calling me to inform me about that? Why did you call to give me hope that wasn’t there? Fuck off,” he cursed. “Call me whe
Damian stormed into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. The walls felt like they were closing in as he paced back and forth, the weight of his conflicting emotions pressing down on him. He had never felt so out of control, so unsure of himself. Elara—his contract wife, the woman who was supposed to be a simple business arrangement—had somehow become his weakness.He tried to shake off the thought, but it lingered like a persistent shadow. His heart raced at the thought of her being in danger, of Charles having his hands on her. His fists clenched involuntarily, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.“Why am I like this?” Damian muttered, looking out of the window at the city lights. “Why do I care this much?”He had been telling himself for months that Elara was just a pawn, a piece of the puzzle in his greater plan. The deal was supposed to be clean—no emotions, no complications. But now, standing in his room with the weight of her absence hanging over him, he knew
Charles stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his skin as he contemplated his plan. His mind was divided between the satisfaction of the night with Anita and the darker, more sinister desires he harbored for Elara. His body responded to the mere thought of her—the thrill of the chase, the power he would wield over her when she finally had no choice but to submit to him.He lathered soap over his chest, washing away the remnants of the night, but his thoughts remained tangled in his obsession. Elara had always been just out of reach, but now, with Damian distracted and her whereabouts uncertain, the opportunity was ripe. She would be his—whether she wanted to be or not.A twisted smile played on his lips as the steam filled the room. The water beat down on his back, but his mind was already far away, at the warehouse where he knew the final act of his plan would unfold. He relished the thought of Damian arriving too late, desperate to save a woman who might alread
“Do you have another woman?” Margaret’s voice was trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.Charles looked up at her question. “Another woman?” he repeated.“Yes. Another woman. I know I was the only one who could satisfy you,” she replied. “The only one who could match your desires. You’re a monster when it comes to sex. I know the real you, and I embrace it. Why are you doing this to me if there isn’t another woman in the picture?” Charles smirked as she continued. “Perhaps Elara.”His eyes burned with rage. He slammed his fist on the desk, his deadly stare fixed on her. Margaret was shocked by his reaction. She stepped back, unable to contain her fear. The rage in his eyes made her wonder what she had done wrong. What had she said to deserve this?Charles approached her, grabbing her and pulling her closer before slamming his lips onto hers in a deep kiss.“Mm,” Margaret moaned, returning the kiss. She missed everything about him—his touch, his sex. Her hands roamed his body more urg
Elara Hart straightened the cuffs of her crisp white blouse. The only sound in the room was the quiet clicking of her pen against the sleek mahogany table. She looked up, her sharp green eyes scanning the faces around her. The air was filled with anticipation. Every gaze was focused on her, waiting for the final words that would seal the deal.Across from her sat Mr. Ashford, an expert in the industry known for his tough negotiating tactics, but Elara remained unfazed. She had worked hard to climb the ranks at Marshall & Hewitt, and today she was on the brink of sealing one of the most significant deals of her career.“Mr. Ashford, with all due respect," she began in a cool and calculating tone, “your offer is below what my client deserves. We are both aware of the market value of this acquisition, and I must say, I had higher expectations.”The atmosphere in the room grew tense as her words lingered. Mr. Ashford shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his confidence wavering under her sup
She stood up, adjusting her jacket. This wasn’t just about clearing her name—it was about finding out who was trying to destroy her and why. And when she did, they would regret ever thinking they could outsmart Elara Hart.As she walked out of her office, heading toward Charles Lawson’s door, one thought echoed in her mind: This was war.Her heels clicked sharply against the polished marble floor as she made her way to Charles Lawson’s office, the managing partner. With each step, the silence of the hallway amplified the storm of emotions within her. By the time she reached the heavy oak door, she had managed to push the panic down, replacing it with steely determination.She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before knocking.“Come in,” Charles’s voice called out, calm and steady, giving no hint of the turmoil that awaited her inside.Elara pushed the door open, stepping into the room with her head held high. Charles Lawson’s office was a grand room with dark wood paneling, pl
Elara gazed out of the large bay window in her apartment, watching the bustling city below. The Manhattan skyline, once familiar and vibrant, now seemed distant and daunting. The city that had once symbolized her success now felt like an alien landscape, filled with looming challenges. Everything she had built was about to crash. She had worked so hard to reach where she was today. Lost in thought, she was interrupted by her phone beeping. Uninterested in talking, she ignored the calls that kept coming in.The phone rang for the fifth time before she walked to her nightstand. Her heart sank when she saw her mother’s name flashing on the screen. Her mother must have seen the news and could be deeply worried.Since her father’s death, her mother had struggled with both grief and health issues, unable to cope with the loss. Elara remembered their once-happy family—joyful moments of singing and dancing together. She was born into a poor family as the first child, with a brother named Jame
He gazed out at the city below, his eyes fixed on the bustling streets and towering skyscrapers. From his penthouse office, Damian Blackwood could see the vast expanse of the city that he was on the brink of dominating. The view was magnificent—a testament to his success and the vast empire his family had built over generations. But today, it offered no comfort. The weight of the looming deadline pressed heavily on him, tainting the satisfaction he usually felt when surveying his domain.Behind him, his family’s lawyers shivering nervously, awaiting his response to the grim news they had delivered. Damian had always known this day would come, but he hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon, or under such dire circumstances.“Thirty days,” he murmured, more to himself than to the men in the room. “You’re telling me I have just thirty days to find a wife, or everything my family has built will be stripped away?”Mr. Jennings, the head lawyer, cleared his throat. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood. Your gr