Scarred Seductress

Tomorrow, He Dies

Damien’s fingers raked through his hair for the umpteenth time as his feet carried him back and forth, frustration clawing violently inside him. His fists curled in on themselves, his eyes glaring bitterly at the tall, locked door Selene had disappeared behind. He wanted—so badly—to kick it down.

“Sir, you have to calm down…” his bodyguard urged, earning himself a hard glare from Damien.

“Apologies, sir…” the man muttered quickly, retreating a few quiet steps back.

Damien’s eyes caught the furious stares of Ricardo’s guards stationed by the door—the only thing holding him back.

Then one of them cleared his throat.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you left?” he growled.

Damien’s bodyguard stepped forward, ready to charge, but Damien stopped him with a sharp lift of his hand.

“There’s no point…” Damien huffed, just about to turn away when the door clicked open.

Selene stepped out.

“What are you doing here?”

Damien lurched forward, ignoring the guards as they tried to stop him, and seized Selene’s wrist, dragging her to his side.

“Let go of me…” she whimpered, her long nails clawing at Damien’s skin in a desperate attempt to free herself—futile.

“Let’s go,” Damien growled at his guards as he led the way, Selene struggling violently behind him.

“Have you lost your mind? Let go of me!” she screamed as he dragged her through the hallway and out of the building, drawing stares as they passed.

“You have absolutely no right to—”

Damien shoved her away, sending her staggering back, almost losing her balance. She swallowed the rest of her words.

“Are you messing with me?” Damien asked suddenly, his tone calm—too calm, unsettling.

Selene looked away.

“I know what I saw in your eyes, Selene… from that night at the gala, to the little stunt you pulled in my house… to that same night you sneaked into my room—”

“Well, that was a mistake.”

“Oh please,” Damien exploded, shutting her up. A dry chuckle spilled from his lips as he began to pace slowly.

“You want me too, don’t you?” he pressed. “You always have—from the very beginning. I’m the reason you tried to be friends with Marina. I’m your goal, Selene. So why the act? Why the pretence? Why play hard to get when you’re nothing but a slut anyway—”

Selene slapped him.

His guards lurched forward, but Damien raised a hand, signaling them to stay back.

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, Damien,” Selene snapped. “You’re delusional. Nothing was ever about you—from the very beginning.”

She shoved him back and tried to walk away, but Damien caught her arm, yanking her back in place.

“Who is he to you?” he demanded suddenly.

Selene scoffed, ripping herself free with a sharp hiss.

“I asked you a question, Selene,” his voice thundered.

She said nothing, turning her face away stubbornly.

“Is he your son’s father?” he pressed.

Selene rolled her eyes.

Damien exhaled slowly, his gaze settling on her face, then helplessly lingering on her swollen lips. Something snapped.

He seized her chin, forcing her face still, his eyes scanning her lips as if confirming a terrible suspicion.

“Did he kiss you?” he asked.

“Are you crazy? Let go of me,” Selene snapped, squirming violently against his hold.

“I asked you a question.”

“And I don’t owe you any explanation, Damien,” she fired. “You don’t get to decide what I do with my body just because you have power. I owe you nothing—so get your hand off me.”

Damien released her, and she nearly crumpled to the ground.

“What is wrong with you?” Selene breathed, fixing her scattered hair.

“All my life, I’ve always had my hands on anything I wanted, Selene,” Damien said coldly. “And you won’t be any different.”

A laugh tore from Selene’s lips—sharp, disbelieving.

“I want you, and you know what that means,” he growled.

Selene scoffed.

“I don’t care if you’re a spoiled brat, Mr. Damien,” she snapped. “You don’t get to decide who I sleep with or what I do with my own body.”

Damien chuckled, his confidence unwavering—as though Selene were nothing more than an irresistible challenge.

“I love Ricardo,” she added deliberately, watching Damien nod as he took a cigarette from his bodyguard, dragging deeply on it.

“We’ll see about that, Selene. Have a good night.”

Without another glance at her, he turned and walked away.

Selene hissed, straightened, and smoothed her disheveled dress. A slow smirk curled at the corner of her lips.

“And what in the world was all that ruckus about?”

The voice made Selene look up. A woman in her mid-forties approached calmly.

“Who was that, Selene?” Ava’s mother asked, smiling.

Selene rolled her eyes and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re finally here, I see.”

She turned and led the way. The woman followed.

“Where is Ricardo?” she asked.

Selene scoffed. “Dead asleep.”

The woman shook her head, her smile turning proud.

“Don’t tell me you f****d him, Selene.”

“Ew,” Selene purred, disgust twisting her face. “I hate that bastard with every fibre of my being. There’s absolutely no way.”

“So you drugged him before he could even get to it.”

Selene nodded proudly. The woman chuckled.

“You learned from the best,” she said, patting Selene’s shoulder—until Selene’s expression hardened.

“Point is… Ricardo does not leave this place alive,” Selene stated, her voice low, venomous, unwavering.

“Everything is ready as you ordered,” the woman replied.

Selene nodded, took a few steps forward, then turned back.

“We’ll wait on the plan until after tomorrow.”

“What do you have in mind, Selene?”

Selene shrugged. “I’m onto something—but I’m not sure yet.”

“We have to proceed with the plan.”

“And I say you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” Selene hissed, rolling her eyes.

“Either way… Ricardo dies tomorrow.”