ATTRACTED TO THE ENEMY

CHAPTER 3

LUNA AVALON

The office is immersed in a heavy gloom, the silence filled only by the echo of Madame Lys’s sharp voice.

I am standing before the mahogany desk, my gaze fixed on an undefined spot on the wall.

The mistress of the mansion walks back and forth, her heels echoing on the wooden floor as her words fall like blades.

"Do you have any idea what you've done, Luna?", Madame Lys’s tone is acid, a mix of fury and frustration.

"Fighting vampires? Right in Damien Vaughn's club? You might have exposed the whole mission!"

I stand firm.

"I had no choice. If I hadn’t fought, I would’ve died. And Damien also saw that I can defend myself. That only increases his interest."

Madame Lys stops, her sharp blue eyes assessing me with distrust.

"Or it might make him find out who you really are.", she leans over the desk.

"Do you realize the risk you’re running? If he knows the truth, you’ll be dead before you can even raise the blade."

I take a deep breath, suppressing the irritation growing inside me.

"He doesn't know. He just saw a woman who knows how to fight. Nothing more."

Madame Lys sighs and reclines in the chair, running her fingers through her impeccably styled blonde hair.

"I can’t afford to lose you, Luna. You’re the best assassin we have. Don’t fail. Not now."

I nod once before leaving the office. I won’t fail.

I can’t fail.

The next morning, I stop before the luxurious building where Damien is waiting for me.

His driver brought me here to a penthouse apartment, as opulent and impenetrable as Damien Vaughn himself. I take a deep breath before pressing the doorbell.

The door opens, revealing Damien in casual clothes—a pair of black pants and a dark t-shirt that fits perfectly on his sculpted body.

Without the impeccable suit from the previous night, he looks wilder, more lethal. And, in a way, more tempting.

"Come in.", he steps aside, leaving space for me to enter.

I cross the entrance, my eyes scanning the surroundings. The apartment is modern and minimalist, with leather furniture and dark-toned details. A whole wall of glass displays the city below, an imposing view for a man who commands his own world.

I stop in the middle of the room, feeling his presence approaching.

"Drink?", Damien asks, picking up a glass of whiskey.

I hesitate.

"I don’t drink with strangers."

He smiles slyly, a cunning gleam in his silver eyes.

"That’s a problem, since I intend to get to know you very well."

Before I can respond, he continues:

"I want you to be my submissive."

I blink, surprised.

"Straight to the point."

"I don’t waste time with pleasantries.", he sets the glass down on the table and approaches me, unhurried.

"And I know you don’t either."

The distance between us vanishes when Damien grabs my chin with two fingers, tilting my face up before capturing my lips in an intense kiss.

I reciprocate without hesitation, my hands sliding to his shoulders. The game of seduction has begun, and I need to make sure I’m in control.

He deepens the kiss, holding my waist and pulling me closer.

The heat between us is palpable, an electric current pulsing in the air.

When his lips part, he murmurs against my skin:

"I want to show you something."

He steps back and walks through the apartment.

I wait a moment before moving, seizing the opportunity to explore.

I grab the wine glass he left for me and take a long sip.

I need to learn more about the man I need to kill, everything that wasn’t in the folder handed to me.

My steps take me to a stylish office with shelves full of books and a polished wood desk.

My fingers glide over the surface until they stop on something unexpected.

A photo.

I frown as I pull it closer.

The world seems to slow down as my eyes recognize the faces in the image.

Damien Vaughn. And my dead sister.

I feel my heart hammer in my chest as I stare at the photo.

My sister is there, beside him, smiling as if she were happy. As if she were in love. The pain tears at my chest like an invisible blade.

My hands tremble as I hold the photo.

The truth hits me like a brutal punch. Damien is the man I’ve been searching for all these years.

The man connected to the death of the only family I had left.

Silent tears slide down my face. I searched for him for so long.

And now he is right in front of me. My target. My enemy. The man who should die by my hands.

But why does my heart beat so fast? Why does his taste still linger on my lips?

I look at my sister’s face, remembering her lifeless body in my arms, and when I swore I would avenge her.

Holding the photo between my trembling fingers, I feel a growing fury take over me.

The image of Damien and my sister is burned into my mind, an open wound that will never close.

My chest rises and falls rapidly, my heart pounding fiercely. Hatred bubbles in my veins, hot and suffocating.

Then I hear footsteps behind me. My body tenses.

I turn slowly, still holding the photo, and see him standing in the doorway.

Damien watches me with those silver eyes, a shadow of amusement dancing in his sharp gaze.

His lips curl into a smile. Not a kind smile. But a cruel one. Calculating.

I grip the glass in my other hand tightly, my fingers trembling with fury and desperation.

"You...", my voice comes out laced with venom.

Then something strange happens.

My body grows dizzy, my vision blurs. The edges of the world start spinning, and I feel an abnormal warmth rising up my skin. My breathing becomes heavy, irregular. An alarm screams in my mind.

The wine.

I widen my eyes, coughing violently, my hand flying to my neck as if I could rip the substance’s effect away.

My knees weaken, and the photo falls to the floor.

"Don’t worry, Esther.", his voice is a low whisper, venomous.

"This won’t kill you.", he steps closer, the predatory calm in his movements making me even angrier.

"But we both know that’s not your real name, right?"

My mind screams to fight. To resist.

I drop the glass, which shatters on the floor, and take the moment to slide my hand to my thigh. My fingers find the cold hilt of the dagger hidden there. In a quick motion, I draw the blade and lunge at him. My intent is clear: kill him.

But Damien is faster.

He grabs my wrist tightly, his grip firm enough to make the dagger falter between my fingers.

I cry out in frustration and desperation, using my body as a weapon.

I lift my leg and strike him with all the force I have left, earning a grunt of pain in response. The dagger finds the skin of his neck, a thin stream of blood running from the shallow cut.

But he doesn’t back down.

Instead, he shoves me against the wooden desk in the office.

"You think you can kill me easily? Many like you have tried before and failed...", he whispers, very close to my face.

I feel my throat burning and my eyes watering as I feel the anger and failure rise inside me.

"I never fail...", I whisper, making him smile.

I try to rise, but he pushes me against the desk again, looming over me.

I hate him.

The impact makes the books and papers fall to the floor. He holds me tightly, his body pressing mine against the hard surface.

I try to resist, but the drug’s effect spreads through my body, making my movements uncoordinated. My wrist is still trapped in his hand, my heart pounding in a frantic rhythm.

Damien leans in, his eyes burning against mine.

"I know what you want...", he murmurs, his fingers closing around my neck.

"I know what you are..."

His touch isn’t suffocating, but it’s enough to remind me of my place at that moment.

My breath falters.

I could kill him now.

The blade is still in my free hand.

I just need one precise strike, a swift lunge to the right spot.

But something stops me. Something irrational. Something that angers me even more than the drug coursing through my veins.

His eyes shine, as if he knows exactly what’s going through my mind.

"I knew you were coming..."

His tone is sweet poison, a challenge hidden behind every syllable.

My fingers try to close around the dagger, but my strength is fading. My eyelids weigh down, and the world around me begins to darken.

No.

I fight the effect, but it’s useless. My body no longer obeys me.

My last vision before everything fades is Damien, holding me tight. I fell right into his trap.

And now I’m in the hands of the enemy.

The distant sound of voices reaches me like an echo.

My mind moves slowly through the fog surrounding me. My body feels heavy, as if sinking into something dense and sticky.

I open my eyes with effort.

The light in the room is soft, but it still bothers me.

My body is limp, my limbs are tingling slightly.

I try to move, but I realize I'm lying on a luxurious bed, the soft sheets contrasting with the situation I'm in.

I try to get up, but a weight on my wrist prevents me.

I look to the side and see that my arm is restrained by a handcuff connected to the headboard of the bed.

The other hand is free, but that doesn't comfort me. My ankles are also restrained, limiting my movements.

Great.

I take a deep breath, trying to dissipate the dizziness. I need to think. I need to get out of here.

Before I can come up with a plan, I hear the click of the door being unlocked.

Damien enters the room.

This time, he's wearing a more formal outfit, his posture relaxed, as if he has all the time in the world. His silver eyes analyze my expression, and a small smile plays on his lips.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

I ignore the anger bubbling inside me and force my voice out.

“What do you want?”

He walks over to the bar in the corner of the room and pours some whiskey into a glass.

“I should be asking you that, don't you think?”, he turns to me, taking a sip of the drink.

“After all, you showed up in my life, tried to kill me, and passed out in my arms. Isn't that how you usually seduce men?”

I grit my teeth.

“Let me go now!”

He approaches slowly and stops beside the bed, his eyes lowered, analyzing the contours of my face.

“Not yet.”

My jaw tightens.

“If you think you can keep me trapped here, you're very mistaken.”

Damien smiles, lowering himself to be at my face level.

“Funny… I could say the same about you, Luna.”

My breath falters for a second.

He knows.

My real name sounds from his lips like both a curse and a delight.

I swallow hard.

The hunter became the hunted.

And now I'm trapped in the web of my own enemy.