ATTRACTED TO THE ENEMY

CHAPTER 4

LUNA AVALON

My body is tense, my wrists firmly trapped by the cold steel handcuffs.

I breathe in a controlled manner, but my heart beats fast, filled with anger and frustration.

Damien is there, sitting comfortably in front of me, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he watches me.

"You look furious, Luna.", his tone is provocative, almost amusing.

"This amuses me."

I narrow my eyes, trying to ignore the urge to rip that damned smile off his face.

"What do you want?"

I observe every detail of his face, every movement. At least for now, Damien doesn't seem to know the truth about me.

He still doesn't know that I'm the sister of the woman he killed. That's good. Keeping this information a secret gives me an advantage. The advantage of choosing the right moment to act.

He stands up and walks toward me, his silver eyes shining with something unfathomable.

"I know a lot about you, Luna. I know you're a Widow, a trained assassin. The best among them. So tell me... how much did they offer to kill me?"

I smile, defiant.

"A lot. More than you're worth."

He lets out a low, genuine laugh.

"Oh, I don't doubt that. But despite your skills, you're not good enough to hide your identity."

Anger crackles inside me. I quickly lift my leg, trying to strike him, but Damien easily dodges and grabs my ankle in the air before gently letting go.

He leans over me, his eyes fixed on mine, a spark of challenge and something deeper dancing in them.

"You're very good, Luna. Better than any other Widow they've sent after me. But you're not good enough."

My hatred grows, but I keep my expression cold.

"What do you want from me, Damien? Why am I still alive?"

He crosses his arms, sizing me up.

"Because I have an offer for you."

I furrow my brow.

"What kind of offer?"

He smiles in a way that sends a shiver down my spine.

"There's something about you, Luna. Something strange, something I can't explain yet. But I plan to find out."

I don't respond; I just watch him cautiously.

Every word that comes out of his mouth is a calculation, a chess game he's playing with mastery.

Damien steps closer, leaning in so that only I can hear his next words.

"I can kill you right now if I want. Or... you can accept my offer."

I maintain a hard expression.

"I was trained for this. I don't accept anything."

He doesn't seem surprised. He just smiles once more.

"I can give you anything you want, Luna. Anything. Even a normal life, far from the complications of being a Widow."

I narrow my eyes, the venom in my voice palpable.

"What I want is you dead."

Damien tilts his head, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Then you have a month to kill me. If you succeed, you can take everything you want. Money, power, freedom. But if you fail...", he pauses, his eyes fixed on mine, and smiles.

"You'll be mine."

"What does that mean?"

"That you'll be completely mine in every possible way, your submission and your life."

My eyes widen. I pull at my wrists forcefully, trying to free myself from the handcuffs.

"You're a f*****g lunatic."

"And you're a stubborn girl. This is going to be fun."

I glare at him, feeling my heart race.

Every fiber of my being screams not to accept this game, to find another way to kill him.

But there's something wrong with me. I never back down from a challenge. Even when the opponent is the devil himself.

And Damien is one of them.

"Why are you doing this?", I ask, my voice rough with anger.

"Because I want the destruction of all the Widows. And having you around might help me with that."

I laugh humorlessly.

"You're dumber than I thought if you think I'm going to help you destroy my own sisterhood."

He smiles again—that damned arrogant smile.

"You'll accept, Luna. You have no choice."

I grit my teeth, my eyes burning with fury. My mind works quickly, searching for exits, looking for loopholes. My job is to kill him. And now I just need to do it in less than a month.

This should be easy. I've killed more powerful men before. But there's something about Damien Vaughn.

Something that makes me hesitate. Something that makes my blood boil and my breath quicken.

I'm going to kill him.

But before that, I need to understand why this damn attraction.

I pull at my wrists once again, breathing deeply.

Let the game begin.

The night drags on, and I'm still trapped in this damned room.

My body aches, and my head is still spinning from the drug he put in the wine.

I try to keep my mind alert, but the stupor slowly consumes me. My eyes blink heavily, fighting off the tiredness, but inevitably, sleep overtakes me.

And then I dream.

I'm back to that night.

The door of the house is ajar when I hear my sister's screams.

The cold sound of her voice rips through the silence of the night, and my heart races.

I run outside, seeing Amanda getting out of the car with tears streaming down her face. Her hands tremble, her body is consumed by fear.

"They're chasing me!", she cries, stumbling as she tries to run to me.

"He's going to kill me, Luna!"

I try to hold her by the shoulders, trying to understand what's happening. My instinct tells me something is terribly wrong.

"Who? Amanda, who is after you?"

"He...", she sobs, her eyes wide with pure terror.

"He's a powerful man, Luna. You don't understand... He doesn't stop until he gets what he wants."

Lights flash in the darkness. The sound of engines draws closer. I look back and see the cars arriving. My muscles are tense. The danger is real. I grip Amanda's hand tightly.

"We need to get out of here! Now!"

I take a step back, pulling my sister with me. But then, two gunshots slice through the air. The deafening sound echoes through the night. My body shudders. I feel a weight fall against me.

Amanda.

"No...", my voice shakes, almost breathless.

My eyes fall to her chest, where blood starts spreading rapidly through the fabric of her blouse. My hands tremble as I try to contain the wounds, pressing desperately.

"Stay with me, Amanda. Stay with me!", my voice cracks, begging her to hear me.

The warm blood flows through my fingers. Her body is growing heavy. Her gaze begins to lose focus. Tears stream down my face when I realize I'm losing her.

"NO!", I scream, my throat burning with pain.

I lift my head, and then I see him.

A tall man, in a flawless suit, holding a gun. He watches me for a few seconds, his eyes cold and expressionless. And then, in no rush, he turns his back and walks away.

My sister is dead.

I scream.

I wake with a start.

My chest rises and falls heavily.

My hands tremble.

My face is wet with sweat and tears. The room is dark, the only light coming from the faint moonlight through the window. The terror of the dream still surrounds me, but I soon realize where I am.

I'm still here.

And Damien is not.

My breath slows.

The nightmare has brought me back to the only truth that really matters: I need to kill him. My body is weak, but my mind is sharp.

I pull at my wrists with force, testing the handcuffs. The cold steel bites my skin, but then I remember the training. I remember what they taught me.

"You'll be captured one day, Luna. When that happens, you need to be prepared for anything."

I was trained to endure pain. To ignore it. To use it.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I position my hand the right way and then pull with force.

The pain explodes through my arm as the bone comes out of place, but I don't scream.

I bite my lip hard, controlling the impulse to let out a groan of agony. My face contorts, and for a moment, my vision goes blurry. But then the handcuff slides off my wrist. I'm free.

I swallow the knot of pain and focus. I use my other hand to free my leg from the ropes and, with effort, I rise.

My legs are still weak, but I can't afford to rest. The adrenaline courses through my body, fully waking me up. I look around, assessing the room. No sign of him.

My eyes land on my bag in the corner of the room.

I walk over quickly and pull out my daggers. The cold of the metal comforts me. They're with me again. Now, I'm no longer a prisoner. I'm a hunter.

Damien's not here, but there's something on the table.

A note.

"Catch me if you can, Luna."

I feel my blood boil. My fingers tighten around the paper, almost tearing it.

He's playing with me. He's toying with my patience and with my anger. He wants to provoke me. He wants to test me.

But he's going to regret it.

I take a deep breath and compose myself. I am a Widow. The best.

I’m not going to fall for his game.

I’m not going to let him have control over me.

He may have trapped me, may have drugged me, but now I’m the one in control.

And I’m going to hunt him down.

He gave me a month to kill him.

I don’t need that much time.

The following days are a game of patience and strategy.

I follow Damien all over the city, watching his every move, every person he interacts with, and every place he frequents.

I know he’s waiting for me, that he’s aware of my presence.

It’s a chess game, and he wants me to make the next move.

But I’m not an easy piece to manipulate.

If he wants to play, then it will be on my terms.

On the third night, an invitation reaches me.

A black, elegant envelope with a golden embossed seal.

I open it and read the carefully written words:

"Golden Inferno Club. Exclusive party. Dress code required."

I don’t need more details to understand what this is about.

Damien’s club, known for its exclusive environment of submission and dominance.

Tonight, according to the message, any kind of activity between dominants and submissives will be allowed.

I roll my eyes.

Of course, he would choose such a setting to try to unsettle me.

He thinks he can provoke me and distract me with this dirty game.

But I’m not one of the obedient dolls that parade around there.

I decide to go.

If he wants to play, I’ll play.

I chose a red dress. Tight, elegant, striking.

Exactly the kind of thing that would irritate Damien and intrigue him at the same time.

I tie my hair up in a high bun, leaving a few loose strands strategically around my face.

The black mask covers the upper part of my face, but still leaves my lips exposed.

Red lipstick. An obvious choice.

I want him to see me and know that I am not a piece to be controlled.

When I arrive at the club, I realize everything is different.

The atmosphere is luxurious and intense, with red and gold lights casting a sensual glow over the masked guests.

There are women kneeling beside their dominants, some in collars, others displaying fresh marks of punishment.

The air is thick with desire and power, a game of wills and submission that does not interest me in the slightest.

The scent of wine and perfume blends into the environment, making everything even more intoxicating.

I walk through the hall, my eyes scanning everything around me.

I need to find Damien.

I know he has already seen me, that he is just waiting for the right moment to reveal himself.

He can’t resist a good provocation.

And I am right.

I feel his presence before I even see him.

The heat of his body close to mine, the way electricity runs through my skin.

Then, his voice comes from behind me, laced with amusement and something deeper.

"Enjoying the party?"

His cynical tone makes me smile, even though I want to punch him.

I turn slowly, meeting his silver eyes shining behind a golden mask.

He is dressed in a flawless black suit, but his presence exudes danger and absolute control.

Everything about him is a provocation.

"Ah, Damien.", I say with irony, tilting my head slightly.

"Glad you finally showed up. I thought you were hiding."

His lips curl into a lazy smile.

"Hiding from you? Never. In fact, I find it fascinating that you came."

He steps closer, almost pressing his body against mine.

I know he’s doing this on purpose.

Here, in the middle of so many witnesses, he knows I can’t just pull out a blade and end him.

He is safe... for now.

"You blend in well in this world, Luna.", he murmurs, his eyes trailing slowly down my body.

"But I know you don’t belong to it."

I cross my arms, keeping my posture firm.

"Unlike you, who seems perfectly at home."

He chuckles, a low sound full of amusement.

"I adapt to any environment. That’s what a good strategist does."

"That’s what a killer does...", I whisper.

His gaze sweeps the room before returning to me.

"You know, tonight is special. Everyone here is playing their own games. And I enjoy a well-played game."

I arch an eyebrow, defiant.

"So that’s why you invited me? To play?"

He lifts a hand toward me.

"To dance."

I am momentarily surprised.

He wants to dance with me?

That doesn’t make sense.

But then I realize everything about him is calculated.

He is testing me, trying to see how far I’m willing to go.

"What’s wrong?", he smirks.

"Afraid I might lead you?"

I take a deep breath.

He wants to play? Then let’s play.

I take his hand, my voice coming out smooth and sharp at the same time.

"Maybe this will be your last dance, Damien."

His smile widens.

"Then it will be memorable."

He pulls me onto the dance floor, where masked couples move to the rhythm of a slow, sensual song.

His hands settle on my waist, firm and possessive.

I try to ignore the way his touch burns through the fabric of my dress.

The dance begins, our bodies moving in perfect sync.

He leads me effortlessly, the steps flowing naturally.

But there is more than just a dance here.

It’s a game of control. A silent challenge.

"You’re enjoying this more than you want to admit.", he murmurs near my ear.

I roll my eyes.

"You have an impressive ego, Damien."

He smiles, sliding his hand along my back, pulling me even closer.

"You’re not the type to give in easily, but there’s something about you...", he pauses, as if choosing his words.

"Something that intrigues me."

"And you’re the type who thinks he’s irresistible.", I reply without hesitation.

He chuckles again.

"I am irresistible. But you... you’re an interesting exception."

My eyes narrow.

"And you’re a dead man walking."

He spins me, moving us elegantly across the floor.

"If I were anyone else, I’d already be dead, wouldn’t I?"

Anger stirs within me, but I don’t let it show.

He’s right.

If it were any other target, I would have finished the job by now.

But Damien is different.

He is cunning.

He knows the game.

And I need to figure out how to beat him.

"The night is just beginning, Luna."

The music changes, and I sigh as he spins my body and dips me back against his chest.

My heart has never pounded so hard as at this moment.

I blink, seeing his silver pupils locked onto me.

Our faces are too close now, and I need to remember that I am standing before a killer.

The same man who killed my sister.

I need to remember who I am and who he is.

He leans in, his mouth close to my ear, and I close my eyes.

"Admit it. You like this as much as I do. Danger fascinates us, draws us in. We’re not so different, Luna..."

"I am not like you..."