Chapter 4

LEILA

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I stood frozen in the center of the stage, my breath caught—trapped in my lungs.

Silence unfurled, and the stretch between us widened, yet it felt like it was pulling tighter.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

I wanted to. I knew I had to. Yet, my body disobeyed. “I….I.” My throat worked as I swallowed hard. “I can’t do this, please,” I whispered out, my lips trembling.

Damien leaned off the backrest. “You wanted to pay me back, right? To earn your freedom?” He curved his spine, resting his hand on his long legs. “This is your interview, I need to see your body before displaying it to my clients.”

I stiffened, and my whole body tucked into itself. The way the words rolled off his lips. Without a care. Like I was a commodity.  It stung—especially coming from him. Someone I had looked up to as an elder brother…then.

I swung my rounded gaze to him. “Please, let me do another work. I could clean.  Bartending. A chef in your house. Be a maid.” My words a gargled mess, lost in desperation. “Please, not this.” My voice dropped.

A groan, thick and croaky, rumbled from his throat. The heel of his palm pressed against his temple, before dragging it through his hair.

Springing to his feet, he drew closer, each step thundering in my ears until he was right before me. On the podium. The white light spilled across his face and I could see his eyes, much better than when they were cloaked in the shadow of red neon lights.

Damien’s eyes locked with mine. “Do you know how much your father owes?” His knuckle traced the curve of my neck, from behind my ear to the edge of my shoulders.

I shivered under his touch.

“How long do you think you can work to pay it off? Clean? Bartending?” He smirked, his fingers now playing with the strap of the dress, his touch light against my skin. “You could work for your whole life and still not clear off the debt. How are you going to see your mother? Or pay the debt  your father owes other people?”

My stomach churned, not just at his words, but the truth behind them. Images of my mother slipped in. Her weak frame. Her tired eyes.  A soft sigh left my lips, drawing Damien’s gaze.

But I ignored his intense stares and reminded myself, I was doing this for my mother.

“Make it quick. We don’t have all the time in the world.” Damien settled on the seat and leaned back like he was about to watch a show.

After a thick throat-tightening sight, I finally removed the straps of the gown and let it fall to my feet.

I stood there in just my pant and a strapless bra.  Colder than before. My skin exposed to his predatory gaze.

Damien took his time, his eyes drilling into me. I feel his gaze from across the space.

“Turn around.”

I hesitated, but still complied.

“No,” Damien added when I moved too quickly. “Do it slowly.”

Another shaky breath and I did a three-sixty. His gaze followed, lingering on my curves, every inch of my exposed skin.

The intensity, like a fever, burned me alive and I forgot that thumping of my heart and the nerves pulsating through me.  

When his eyes fell to pant, he bit his lips—an act that seemed unconscious. My pussy shamelessly throbbed.

“Perfect.” A smile burnt on his lips as he rose to his feet, dipping his hand in his pocket. “Who knew Little Raven would have grown into such a beautiful woman.”

It was a nickname he had given me then, because of my jet-black hair and onyx eyes.

Damien’s face lit up, as he observed the redness of my cheeks. And I hated how much it affected me. How it made me pissed and aroused. Fuck. I was pisaroused.

The door opened and a girl strode in. She was tall, much taller than I was. Wide hip. Long legs. Red hair that matched her green eyes.

Damien faced her. “Take her to Madam Cha. She’s new,” He ordered before leaving the room.

As the air was free of his presence, I sank to the floor, drowning in embarrassment and shame. How stupid I felt for reacting to his gaze.

*************

The next night, I was back at his office, wearing the most exposed and thin layered piece of cloth beneath my long brown coat.

Damien was sitting on his throne-like seat, the papers before him had completely swallowed his attention.

With a still breath and a stuffed chest, I waited. My eyes fixed on his long fingers tapping the desk.

When Damien was done his eyes flickered up, and he gestured for me to speak.

“Ms Cha said I should show you my outfit.”

A pause and a slow blink. “Go ahead.”

My fingers twitched as I reached for the belt of my coat, undoing the knot. The fabric peeled off shoulders and pooled on the floor.

The bra barely wrapped my burst, my nipples poked against the thin fabric. The high-cut thong, left little to imagine.

I told myself not to feel ashamed. After all, he had seen me like this. Yet, when his gaze darkened and raked over my body, the intensity searing heat upon my skin, My stomach clenched. I cursed myself.

Seconds stretched. He uttered no words. Didn’t move—just sat still watching.

Heat snuck up my neck and I bent, reaching for the coat to cover myself—to leave this hot place.

“Leila.”

I froze and turned back.

Damien lifted himself from the seat, in a manner so majestic. After rounding the desk, he leaned on the edge and crossed his arms.

“What if we make a different deal?” His voice came out low—dangerous.

His eyes never left mine as he stalked forward. “I pay the debt. All of it. You’ll no longer owe the Alvaro family or anyone else a cent.” He stopped, mere inches away from me.

My heart thudded.

“But.”  His finger brushed the edge of my coat, parting it further, exposing a sliver of my body. “In return, every inch of you…” His eyes worked their way up, leaving heat in its wake. “Your hair, your skin, your breath…they all belong to me.”

My heartbeat doubled and my breath hitched.