Scarred Seductress

The First Mistake

Night

The car crawled and then faltered to a stop, and Marina’s eyes darted toward Damien—his gaze still fixed on his phone, just as it had been since the ride began. She plastered a smile across her face and drew in a deep breath, tugging aside the slight unease curling in her chest ever since she’d learned he had specifically demanded her assistant book this resort, for reasons best known to him.

“We’re here…” the driver announced as guards trooped toward the car, holding the door open.

“Honey…” Marina called softly, tapping Damien’s arm, finally snapping him out of his phone.

“We’re here,” she said again, and Damien glanced around briefly.

“It’s beautiful…” Marina added.

Damien forced out a smile, about to slip away when Marina asked quickly, “So why did you choose this place?” stopping him in his tracks.

Damien’s eyes flicked to her, then he turned his face away, his lower lip curving into his teeth.

“I mean, there has to be a reason…”

“Because I’ll be meeting a few business partners here, Marina,” Damien answered—to her surprise—cutting her into silence.

She had expected an entirely different answer. Not that she suspected him of anything… but something about him deciding on the trip himself had unsettled her.

“I… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologise,” Damien cut in, frowning.

“I really didn’t mean—”

Damien ignored her and stepped out of the car into the cool night breeze, his eyes sweeping over the place with slow precision, as though he were hoping to catch a glimpse of the actual reason he was there.

Marina stepped out as well.

“My love, I didn’t mean to—”

“Go settle in, Marina. I’ll join you immediately after the meeting ends,” Damien grumbled, and she pressed a reluctant nod.

He followed behind the guard leading him into the resort, not sparing Marina another glance.

“They’re waiting for you, sir,” the guard said, leading Damien into the club area and gesturing toward a table a few meters ahead, where several men were already seated—Greg, Marcus, and Alex—with a good number of girls clustered around them.

Damien scoffed. As expected of his friends.

They had suddenly agreed to make time for a long-overdue business discussion, and since Damien was going on his anniversary trip, they had each booked a place at the resort. So technically… he hadn’t completely lied to Marina.

“Look who we finally have here!” Marcus announced over the loud music, loud enough to draw every eye at the table toward Damien.

“If it isn’t our one and only lover boy—Damien Moretti!” he added, laughter rippling across the table.

Damien shook his head and settled into a seat, his eyes already sweeping the busy club without hesitation, searching—desperately—for the slightest glimpse of her.

“Happy anniversary, man,” Greg cheered, flicking a glass of alcohol toward Damien in a mock toast.

Damien ignored him, his gaze still lost in the hunt for Selene.

The men exchanged glances.

“He must be looking for his wife,” Alex joked, snapping Damien’s attention back to them. A frustrated hiss tore from Damien’s throat as he poured himself a drink and gulped it down.

“You talk like you know nothing about Damien,” Marcus said with a snort. “Man, I bet he can barely stand that woman.”

Damien said nothing, only continued drinking.

Alex frowned, glancing between them. He had always known Damien as the type who wouldn’t touch any woman with a ten-foot pole. He had assumed his loyalty was solely to his wife—he had never heard of Damien barely tolerating her.

“What are you even talking about?”

“It’s a long story, man… and I promise you won’t want to hear it,” Marcus huffed, waving it off. Alex’s curiosity only deepened. He had returned to the country years after Damien had already married Marina.

“Well, that’s unfair—”

“So how’s our little princess, Quinn?” Greg cut in, saving Marcus the trouble.

Damien continued to drink.

The men exchanged looks again.

“Is he okay?” one of the girls serving them asked, earning herself a sharp glare from Damien.

She swallowed hard and lowered her gaze.

Greg cleared his throat, and the girls immediately took the cue to leave, the atmosphere shifting into something tense.

“Is everything alright?” Marcus asked.

Damien leaned forward, his face falling into his palms as a frustrated growl tore out of him.

“He’s clearly not,” Greg muttered.

“Is Marina insisting on another child?” Greg asked again, clueless—one of the few things Damien ever complained about.

Damien stayed silent, then finally exhaled deeply and looked up.

“I have never wanted any woman like I want her… not since Samantha,” he choked out.

Their eyes snapped to one another—surprise, confusion, curiosity gripping their faces.

“Damien, who are you talking about—”

Damien’s gaze locked onto Selene.

She walked into the club like she owned the night—dressed in a dangerously fitted black dress that clung to every sinful curve, the slit riding high on her thigh, thin straps barely holding her in place. Her heels clicked with confidence as she cat-walked effortlessly through the crowd, lips painted deep red, hair cascading freely down her back.

Every head turned.

Every man watched.

Damien lowered his gaze slightly as heat rushed violently through his spine, every nerve igniting. It felt as though his eyes had finally found the very thing he’d been praying for his entire life—and he wasn’t about to let it slip away.

“I think he’s talking about her,” Alex muttered.

The men followed Damien’s stare, watching Selene until she settled gracefully at a table several meters away.

“f**k,” Greg breathed. “Who in the name of gorgeousness is that?”

“She’s beautiful,” Alex agreed. Marcus said nothing, his eyes narrowed in intrigue.

Damien’s jaw clenched hard as he noticed the interest lighting his friends’ faces.

Before his brain could catch up, he straightened and moved.

Anger bubbled violently inside him—every man in the club had their eyes on her. He was about to do the craziest thing yet.

Claim her.

Right in front of them.

No woman broke her way into his heart like this and walked away untouched. After tonight, his body would forget Selene. He would make sure of it—have her in a way that would end the wanting, end the craving.

“Mr. Damien,” Selene cooed as soon as her eyes met his.

She rose to her feet with a smile, extending her hand for a polite handshake.

Damien ignored it.

Instead, he yanked her by the wrist, pulling her hard against his body.

“What are you—”

He didn’t give her time to finish.

Damien leaned in and crashed his lips against hers.