Ruined By The Ruthless Don

A Problem He Couldn't Kill

“Now the real war begins.”

Lila stared at him, the blanket clutched tightly to her chest. Twenty five million dollars. Her father had put twenty five million dollars on her safe return.

The number made her head spin.

“What does that mean for me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damien didn’t answer immediately.

He started the engine again and drove deeper into the warehouse complex, navigating narrow corridors until they reached a hidden elevator.

He pulled her out of the car, one strong arm around her shoulders to keep the blanket in place, and guided her inside.

The elevator went up. When the doors opened, they stepped into a clean and simple apartment hidden inside the old warehouse.

“Sit,” Damien said, pointing to the couch.

Lila obeyed, legs weak. She pulled the blanket higher, trying to cover as much skin as possible.

Her foot still stung from the glass cut.

Damien disappeared into another room and came back with a first aid kit and a clean black t-shirt.

He knelt in front of her without a word, took her injured foot gently, and cleaned the cut. His hands were surprisingly careful.

Lila watched him, confused. This was the same man who had chained her, teased her with a gun, killed people in front of her, and now he was bandaging her foot like it mattered.

“Why are you being nice to me?” she asked softly.

Damien finished wrapping the bandage and looked up at her. His dark eyes held something complicated but he didn't answer her.

He stood up, went to the small kitchen area, and brought her a bottle of water.

Lila drank thirstily, realizing how dry her throat was.

Damien sat on the chair opposite her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“You should rest,” he said finally.

Lila shook her head. “I can’t sleep. Not like this, without knowing what you’re going to do to me next.”

“I’m not going to force you tonight,” he said quietly.

Damien looked at her for a long moment.

“Don’t even think about running, princess. If you try to leave… I will find you. And next time, I won’t be gentle.”

He stood up and walked closer. Lila felt tense but she didn’t move away. He reached down and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip, the same way he had in the basement.

"Letting you go isn't an option anymore.” he murmured.

Lila’s heart raced. She should hate him. She should be disgusted. But the way he looked at her, like she was both a prize and a weakness at the same time, made her stomach flutter in a dangerous way.

Before she could respond, Damien’s phone rang again. He answered it, listening carefully. His face hardened.

“Double the guards around the perimeter,” he ordered. “No one gets close.”

He hung up and looked at Lila.

“They’re coming harder than I expected,” he said. “Your father is desperate.”

Lila hugged her knees to her chest. “Just let me go. That will stop more people from dying.”

Damien gave a short, bitter laugh. “You still think this is a fairytale where everyone can go home? Your father doesn’t want peace, Lila. He wants me dead and you back under his control.”

He stepped closer until he was standing right in front of her. His hand came down to tilt her chin up so she had to look at him.

“And I’m not giving you back.”

The sound of distant explosions rocked the building. The floor vibrated and Dust fell from the ceiling.

Damien’s head snapped toward the door. His body tensed instantly.

“f**k,” he muttered.

He grabbed his gun and moved to the window, peeking out carefully. Lila sat up straighter, fear flooding back.

“What’s happening again?” she whispered.

Damien turned back to her, eyes hard.

“Your father’s men found us again. And this time… they brought more.”

Gunshots rang out in the distance, followed by the sound of breaking glass downstairs.

Damien looked at Lila; naked under the blanket, vulnerable, and now trapped with him in another fight.

He reached out and gripped her hand tightly.

“Whatever happens,” he said, voice low and intense, “stay behind me.”