Eve’s Nemesis

Damian wrathful beginning

Chapter Three

As he departed, his final words echoed in her mind.

"Everything you need is in here." She furrowed her brow, puzzled.

Had someone lived here before? Why were all her necessities already provided? She murmured these questions to herself.

Curiosity propelled her toward a large standing wardrobe. Upon opening it, she inhaled sharply. The closet was fully stocked, elegant gowns dominated one section, while skirts of varying lengths and styles occupied another. Trousers, undergarments, and tops filled the remaining space. This was unmistakably someone's personal quarters, she realized. Yet everything bore the crispness of being brand new.

She selected a gown and slipped it on, it fit perfectly. A skirt followed, then a blouse, and finally trousers. Each garment hugged her frame as if tailored specifically for her.

A knock at the door snapped her back to reality. She'd lost herself entirely in the discovery.

"Yes!" she called out, eyes fixed on the entrance.

A woman in her forties entered, head bowed deferentially. Eve studied her, perplexed by the gesture. Was this woman timid? Intimidated?

"Good day, ma'am," the woman greeted, still bowed.

Eve remained silent, merely observing.

"The boss sent me, ma'am," the woman continued.

At the mention of "boss," Eve's heart lurched. She understood immediately, she must have squandered considerable time experimenting with the wardrobe.

"Alright... I'm listening," Eve responded.

"He requests your presence at dinner immediately," the staff member informed her.

Eve exhaled heavily. "I'll be there shortly," she said, and the woman promptly withdrew.

She hurried to bath and selected fresh attire from the wardrobe. Upon exiting her room, she was startled to find two imposing men stationed outside. How long had they been there? One gestured the direction, and she complied.

The dining hall was deserted except for a single place setting awaiting her. Another maid greeted her, and Eve nodded faintly as her meal was uncovered. Without waiting for the formalities to conclude, she seized her utensil and ate ravenously, uncertain when her next opportunity might come. Fear kept her gaze lowered, avoiding her surroundings.

The moment she finished, the guards escorted her back to her room and locked the door. This confirmed her suspicion. she was under constant surveillance.

Thoughts of Eaul's revelations flooded her consciousness. Were her father and brother truly gone? Had Damian abducted her? If he sought to eliminate her entire family, why spare her? The contradictions swirled, deepening her confusion until exhaustion claimed her.

Hours later, a knock jolted her awake.

"Ma'am, the boss asks you to prepare yourself and come down for dinner," a female voice announced from beyond the door.

She stretched, noticing the dimmed room. Peering through the window, she was astonished to find twilight had fallen, she'd slept the afternoon away.

She rinsed her face, forgoing a full bath until after the meal. As she emerged, the guards fell into step behind her once more. "This is truly strange," she thought.

Damian already occupied his seat at the dining table. Her pace faltered, steps growing tentative with mounting dread.

"Here, ma'am," a maid indicated, directing her to the chair beside him.

Eve hesitated, the proximity felt dangerously intimate but ultimately complied. Servants attended to their meals with meticulous care. She sat in rigid silence, concentrating solely on her plate, unable to glance in Damian's direction.

Her hunger evaporated rapidly despite her emptiness. His nearness extinguished any remaining appetite. After a few mechanical bites, she abandoned her fork. Damian observed this but said nothing, merely glancing at her barely touched food before resuming his own meal.

When Eve rose to retreat, Damian's flat voice halted her. "Refresh yourself and prepare for this evening." She froze, bewildered, questions clamoring in her mind. Why this instruction? Was her execution scheduled? Fear sealed her lips.

She retreated to her chamber, deliberately suppressing speculation. She had resigned herself to her circumstances, death held no terror anymore. She welcomed its arrival.

Lying on the bed, she felt drained. Inactivity had always unsettled her. Confinement was breeding lethargy and restlessness.

After prolonged contemplation, she resolved to bathe before sleep. Fatigue already weighted her eyelids, delay risked surrendering to slumber unwashed.

She entered the bathroom, methodically undressing and completing her ablutions at a leisurely pace. Finished, she wrapped herself in a towel and emerged, heading directly for the wardrobe to select black undergarments and a sheer nightgown.

"You spend considerable time in there."

Eve whirled in terror, clutching her undergarments, eyes widening at the silhouette near the window. Damian. Relief washed over her as she remembered the towel still wrapped around her.

"How long have you been here?" she asked tremulously.

"Not terribly long," he replied, a slight cruel smile playing at his lips as he rose and advanced.

Unease gripped her. What business did he have here at this hour?

"C-could you... please leave so I can dress?" she stammered.

"That won't be necessary, given you're already preparing for tonight," he answered, smiling.

She paused, perplexed. What did "tonight" entail? What was happening?

He closed the distance between them until he stood directly before her. She averted her gaze, attempting to retreat, but the wall blocked any escape.

He withdrew and seated himself on the bed, observing her frozen stance.

"I need you to do something, Evelyn Adams," he stated, using her full name.

She managed to meet his eyes but couldn't voice her question. Silence engulfed the room. The wall clock's ticking became audible.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Undress," he commanded, his expression unsmiling, his gaze locked on hers. He registered her shock but remained unmoved, he was serious, and merciless.

"What?!" she exclaimed, disbelieving.

"I don't repeat myself. You know this. Don't force me to."

Terror seized her, mingling with revulsion. So this was his true intention. She would never comply.

"Undress? Before him?" Impossible.

"Don't compel me to force you, dear. I'd prefer not to harm you as I did your family. Let's handle this civilly," he continued, producing a small sharp blade from his pocket.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. It was true….Eaul's words were confirmed. Damian had annihilated her family, murdered her father and brother.

"So it's true?!" she screamed through tears. "You murdered my family, you monster! How could you become so cruel and heartless? We treated you well……why have you done this?"

"You're fortunate I'm in an unusually generous mood today, Eve. Have you forgotten your father's treachery? How he caused my father's death? How he destroyed my happiness and seized my father's life?" he laughed bitterly.

She knew these truths. Yes, her father had inflicted profound damage. Without his actions, Damian might have remained the kind person everyone once knew, never descending into darkness. It was her father's doing. She collapsed to the floor, her spirit shattered. She hadn't even been able to bury them. Who would tend to their remains? Would her mother return, or had she too perished? Confusion and anguish overwhelmed her. Confirmation brought the clarity to mourn, though for Damian, this represented cause for celebration.

"Why not simply kill me too?" she demanded.

"Not yet," he replied, biting his lower lip. "You'll repay your father's debts incrementally." He dismissed her tears. "Now undress," he commanded again. "I won't repeat myself, unless you prefer force…..which I particularly enjoy."

She couldn't comply. Death was preferable, but she would not remove her clothing for him.

Damian lunged forward, dragging her from the floor toward the bed. She struggled, threatening to scream, but he ignored her, dropping the blade beside the mattress and lifting her with both hands. She wept uncontrollably as her towel loosened. Spotting the discarded blade, she strained to reach it unsuccessfully.

He pinned her beneath his muscular frame. She was overpowered. Her pleas went unheard. He seemed to relish her resistance. He seized her loosening towel, ripping it away to expose her chest. She tried shielding herself, but he restrained both wrists with one hand while unbuttoning his shirt with the other.

His arousal became visible against his trousers as he surveyed her. She begged for release, pleading for the same fatal mercy granted her family. He ignored everything, advising her to conserve her strength rather than cry for help.

As he reached for his zipper, she stretched toward a drawer seeking another blade. He intercepted her, hurling the knife across the room.

He positioned himself over her, and she fought with desperate energy, but her efforts proved futile, only weakening her further. He held her arms against the mattress, lowering his face to kiss and bite her neck slowly. Her pleas intensified, begging for freedom, but he moved his mouth gradually to her breasts, covering one while grasping the other, sucking and squeezing with desperate intensity.

A soft pained moan escaped her, her strength had been conquered. She cursed her father for bringing this upon her.

He continued, alternating between them, savoring their softness and firmness. Her cries meant nothing. Slowly, deliberately, he traced downward with mouth and tongue to her navel, relishing each contour's warmth and softness. She begged him to stop, pushing his head away. Never had she experienced such revulsion. His touch made her skin crawl, yet resistance proved impossible. Her strength, energy, and voice were failing. Damian remained entirely indifferent.

He descended further, his mouth at her most intimate place. He inhaled, smiling as though discovering a delicacy. Immediately, he applied his mouth, using his lips to stimulate her. She gasped, clutching the bedspread as hot tears streamed down. He continued, consuming her thoroughly as though savoring a gourmet feast.

Within minutes, he withdrew from her, kneeling before her on the bed. Grasping her neck, he pulled her close and commanded her to open her mouth. She complied without hesitation, and he forced himself inside, moving rhythmically. She choked, this was unbearable, her head pounding, her body pale and stressed.

Yet he showed no intention of stopping. He withdrew from her mouth and immediately positioned her to the bed. Forcefully, he stroked his rode into her body. She wept, unable to comprehend her childhood friend's actions. She couldn't bear to look at him, squeezing her eyes shut in shame and agony. But to Damian, this was merely execution of his design, to make her suffer as her father had made him suffer.

He continued, driving into her with full force, biting her tender neck. He felt vindicated, believing this served his father's memory, compensated for the unjust death. After finding his release, he emptied himself within her before departing, leaving Eve devastated and broken.