His Substitute Ex-Wife

Chapter 5: Into the Lion’s Den

Sofia stood outside the towering Vertex Holdings International building, the high-rise a clear symbol of the corporation's financial power and prestige. Steeling herself, she entered the lobby and walked straight to the reception desk.

“Hello, I’d like to see your CEO, Damien Steele,” she said confidently.

“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked politely.

“No, but I’m the woman you’re looking for in your latest perfume campaign,” Sofia replied, pulling her collar slightly aside to reveal a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, miss, but if you’re interested in purchasing our 5203 series perfume, please proceed to the third floor boutique. Mr. Steele doesn’t meet with visitors without an appointment,” the receptionist said, glancing at the tattoo without much interest. Lately, many women with butterfly tattoos had been showing up.

Sofia realized there was no point arguing with the receptionist. Instead, she moved to the lounge area, choosing a seat where she could observe the comings and goings in the lobby. She scanned the crowd, hoping to spot Damien, though she’d only seen photos of him online. Unbeknownst to her, a man in sunglasses and a suit had already taken note of her presence from a shadowed corner.

As dusk settled in, the sky opened up with a heavy downpour, mirroring Sofia’s unsettled mood. The workday was ending, and people were trickling out of the building. Sofia guessed Damien might have a private elevator and probably exited through the underground garage. Thinking she might catch him there, she exited the building and circled it, looking for the parking exits. Despite being drenched by the rain, she ignored her discomfort.

Just as she passed one of the parking exits, a car’s blinding headlights startled her, making her whip around. Inside the car, a man took in the sight of Sofia’s striking yet vulnerable face illuminated by the headlights. His cold gaze flickered with a hint of interest.

Damien’s hand gripped the steering wheel, the veins visible as a wry smile played on his lips.

Sofia quickly moved aside, but the sleek, black LaFerrari stopped beside her. The man lowered his window, his chilling voice cutting through the rain. “Get in.”

Drenched and slightly disheveled, Sofia leaned down to get a look at the man’s profile inside the car. His features were sharp in the dim light, a subtle hint of cologne in the air, the strong veins on his hand—a mixture of familiarity and intrigue washed over her as she observed him.

He turned, and Sofia’s heart pounded as she whispered in shock, “Damien!”

“Get in. I don’t like repeating myself,” Damien commanded, his tone firm. She hesitated, but since she’d come all this way to confront him, she climbed in and quietly settled into the seat.

In person, Damien was even more striking—sharp features, intense eyes, a straight nose, and perfectly sculpted lips. His face was all hard lines, exuding an aura that was both commanding and imposing, an intense blend of elegance and ruthlessness. It was no wonder he had a reputation for both charm and danger.

Rumor had it he was ruthless and iron-fisted in his dealings.

It was said he was a notorious playboy, with women in his life like clothes in a closet. Many actresses from Vertex Holdings’ entertainment arm were rumored to have been linked with him.

People gossiped that his relationships often involved A-list celebrities and that he had a reputation for discarding lovers like old shoes.

It was even whispered that he had a close, perhaps more-than-friendly connection with international superstar Martin Joseph—suggesting Damien was open to anyone, regardless of gender.

Sofia pieced together these fragments of information, all gossip she had heard or seen from classmates and tabloids about Damien. But before this advertisement aired, she had never imagined she would have any connection with him.

Did he recognize her?

The two of them didn't say a word as they drove on. Sofia was still damp, her mind a chaotic mess. The familiar scent of perfume surrounded her, and memories of that night began to flash back in her mind—those embarrassing actions and sensations now replayed vividly. The thought of having possibly made love to the man in front of her made Sofia’s face burn with embarrassment.

Damien kept his gaze straight ahead, his deep-set eyes revealing no emotion. He drove Sofia to a lakeside villa, far removed from the city. The surroundings were eerily quiet; the darkness was so thick that she couldn't see any other buildings nearby.

The interior was vintage and elegant, with soft-toned rugs, plush leather sofas, and a magnificent crystal chandelier. Luxurious collections adorned the space, creating a sense of warmth that made Sofia, still damp from the rain, feel a hint of safety.

But Damien’s stern presence shattered any illusion of comfort, and Sofia’s nerves prickled again.

Without a word, Damien grabbed her hand and led her upstairs. Sofia winced, unable to free herself from his firm grip. In a lavish bedroom, he tossed her a man’s robe. “Clean yourself up. We need to talk.”

“I don’t need a shower. I just want answers—”

“Take a shower,” he cut her off, his voice unyielding.

Sofia suppressed her anger, not wanting to waste her energy on an argument when she hadn't eaten all day. She complied. She had to admit a hot shower was appealing after being soaked in the rain, and she had to be sharp for her upcoming job interview.

Under the warm spray, Sofia felt her thoughts clearing. What was she doing here? Alone, at this hour, in the home of a man she barely knew? Did he expect her to spend the night there? And what did he have planned?

She tried to calm herself, repeating, "Stay composed. You've already lost your virginity; there's no second one to lose. What matters now is figuring out why this man is doing all this—was that night an accident or a trap?"

After changing out of her clothes, including her soaked underwear, she hastily washed them by hand and tossed them in the dryer. The man's bathrobe was large and wide; she tied it tightly and checked herself in the mirror to ensure everything was in order before opening the bathroom door.

While she wore nothing inside the robe, she felt a bit shy and awkwardly exposed.

Damien sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, lounging on a sofa, his tie loosened, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal toned chest muscles, his sleeves rolled up. He looked effortlessly fierce, exuding a raw, dangerous allure. When he turned to see Sofia, her cheeks flushed, her damp hair framing her face like a timid kitten.

“Thanks for the robe, Damien. I came here to ask you…” Sofia began, her voice unsteady.

“Be mine,” Damien interrupted, his tone firm, his gaze intense. The words struck Sofia silent. They had met only once, so why was he making such an audacious demand?

She wasn’t delusional; she wasn’t the type of beauty to warrant love at first sight from a man like Damien. Clearly, something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“I’ll accept only one answer from you,” Damien continued, his tone steely. “You must fall in love with me.”

Sofia finally lost her temper, her eyes blazing. She hated it when someone spoke to her in a condescending tone, and Damien had been ordering her around all night. Who did he think he was?

“Who do you think you are? Why should I be with you? Why must I fall in love with you? Do you think you can just decide something like that? You’re arrogant, ignorant, and to think you dared to…” Sofia shouted at Damien, but as she spoke, he approached her slowly, getting closer and closer. She took a step back for every step he took forward, eventually retreating to the edge of the bed.

A sense of impending danger gripped her. He didn’t respond to her accusations; instead, he watched her intently, his gaze hungry, as though he wanted to strip away her robe with his eyes alone.

“So, you do remember that night. Then why not be mine? Unsatisfied with me?” Damien leaned in closer, his deep voice was right beside her ear, his words dangerously playful, the atmosphere between them charged with tension.

Sofia was filled with anger and humiliation as she pushed Damien away with all her might, intending to leave the room. Suddenly, Damien asked from behind her, “By the way, what’s your name?”

Have you ever seen a man who, after being intimate with a woman and asking her to be his, casually inquires about her name as if he were commenting on the weather?

Have you ever seen that? Damien is definitely the first in history.

“I don’t want to tell you,” Sofia said, not turning back as she continued to walk away. In the next moment, Damien reached out with his long arm and pulled her back. Sofia gasped as she found herself in his embrace. Damien was decisive; in an instant, he had her pinned on the sofa, capturing her lips.

She was wrapped only in Damien’s robe, which loosened with a single tug. That night’s hazy yet vivid memories flooded back, and her reason was reduced to mush.

The last time she had been drunk, disoriented and unaware of her surroundings, but now she was fully conscious, every sensation concentrated on his igniting lips.

Damien gazed at her face, the girl’s pure features overshadowed by a layer of innocent ambiguity, her eyes laced with desire.

The awkwardness of that night, the barriers he had crossed, all clearly told him that she was untouched, and he was her first man.

Relative to that, he preferred women who were more mature and understanding, not those who didn’t know anything at all. While he wanted to thoroughly enjoy her innocence, the moment he realized it was her first time, his intentions shifted to tender affection.

Though, in the end, he still lost control.

Yes, lost control. He hated that term; ever since that incident, he had grown to loathe such emotions.

Perhaps it was because of her face...

Sofia, however, was unaware that the reason he was so rough that day was largely because, when she reached her c****x beneath him, she had called out another man's name—Ethan. Just the thought of a woman calling another man's name during their love-making made Damien want to torment her in every way possible.

Over the years, he had always been surrounded by women coming and going, and she was the first to genuinely pique his interest in bed.

His hand slipped beneath hers, exploring her secret depths. Sofia bit her lip in surprise, suddenly momentarily clear-headed; she had come to confront him about using her for his advertisement. She was here to seek justice.

What was she doing now?

She shrank away from Damien, but he roughly gripped her waist, his dark, deep gaze fixated on her flustered, flushed face. Unbeknownst to Sofia, such a look only fueled the man’s desire to ravage her.