Chapter 002: Commotions In the Suite
868 Words
The relentless knocking jerked Sarah awake.
Her eyelids were heavy, her body sore from the intense night she’d just had. The room still reeked of s*x and sweat, the air thick with it. Her stomach twisted, a headache throbbed behind her eyes, and a wave of nausea threatened to rise.
“Open the door, Miss Sarah. I know you’re there.”
Her eyes flew open at the sound of the voice. Damian. Her personal bodyguard—stern, loyal, and appointed by Vincent himself.
Beside her, Rafael stirred and was already walking toward the door, naked and completely unfazed.
“Wait—what are you doing?” she hissed, clutching the sheet to her chest and grabbing his arm. “He can’t see you. He can’t know we’re together.”
Rafael raised a brow, unconcerned. “And why not?”
“Just—hide,” she snapped, panic bubbling in her throat.
Rafael hesitated, clearly irritated, but when the knocking resumed—louder this time—she shoved him toward the back of the wardrobe. With a frustrated sigh, he slipped inside. She threw on his shirt, the fabric falling mid-thigh, and called out lazily, “Coming! I’m not feeling well.”
She opened the door to find Damian looming there, his arms crossed, eyes scanning her from head to toe. His gaze sharpened with judgment.
“Why are you here?” she asked, masking her nerves. “Vincent didn’t say you had the right to invade my privacy.”
Damian said nothing. He stepped inside without asking and shut the door behind him.
Sarah rolled her eyes, pressing her temple. “I don’t remember inviting you in.”
“Where is Rafael?” he asked sharply.
Her heart skipped. “Wh-what? "Why are you looking for my cousin?”
“I saw you leave the hall with him last night,” Damian said, his voice low and suspicious. You were... close. Too close for cousins.”
His gaze dropped to the shirt she was wearing. “That shirt—he was wearing it." So tell me, Sarah. Did you sleep with him?”
He started toward the bathroom.
“Stop!” she barked, stepping in front of him. “He’s not here!” I told him—I had an accident. My time of the month. He offered me clothes and left”
Even to her, the lie sounded weak. Her eyes avoided his.
Damian stepped closer, his tone soft but charged. “I can smell him all over you.”
She forced a breathless laugh. “Damian, please. You’re overstepping. I drank too much and I needed to rest. Tell Vincent," I’ll be home in the morning.”
But Damian wasn’t buying it. His eyes darkened with a strange hunger as they lingered on her lips. “Lying doesn’t suit you, little Sarah. But lucky for you, I’m not loyal to orders. I’m loyal to whoever makes it worth my while.”
A chill slid down her spine. “You’re disgusting.”
He smirked, turning toward the door. “Then Vincent will hear all about this—”
“Wait.”
The word slipped from her lips before she could stop it. Damian paused, knowing he’d won.
Swallowing her pride, Sarah stepped forward. “You want something? Fine. Just... keep quiet.”
Her lips hovered close to his, every inch of her screaming in disgust—but she needed control.
Just as she was about to kiss him, the wardrobe door burst open.
Rafael lunged forward and landed a punch squarely on Damian’s jaw.
“Rafael!” she gasped.
Damian stumbled back, blood on his lip, just as Rafael—now in a robe—glared with fury.
“You were about to kiss him after screwing me? "Seriously?” he shouted.
Sarah covered her mouth in horror. The truth was out.
Before she could stop them, Damian retaliated with a punch of his own, and the two men crashed into a brutal fight, fists flying, grunts and curses filling the air.
“Stop it! Please!” she cried, panic rising.
Eventually, Damian landed a brutal hit that sent Rafael reeling. Both men panted hard, bloodied and bruised.
Damian spat blood onto the floor. “You’re a disgrace to the Laurent family.”
Rafael chuckled darkly, wiping blood from his mouth. “And you’re just bitter that I got to have her, and you didn’t.”
Sarah flinched. She didn’t like his words, but stopping the fight mattered more.
Damian stared at them both, contempt in his eyes. “Let’s see who regrets this by morning.”
Rafael lunged again, but Sarah threw herself between them.
“Damian, please,” she begged, eyes wide. “I’m sorry you had to see this.” I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Just... don’t tell Vincent. I’m begging you.”
Damian considered her, lips curling with amusement.
“You’ll have to do better than promises,” he said coolly, fixing his collar and walking out.
As the door clicked shut, Sarah stood frozen. Her gut churned—and then the vomit surged up, spilling from her mouth and splashing across the floor.
Rafael stood too close to dodge it.
- Writer
