I Married My Father’s Creditor

Chapter 7

Ariana’s POV

Now I completely understand why people say you should make your wild mistakes early in life. Because when a moment like this happens, at least your brain knows how to handle what your body is feeling.

Right now? My brain had zero processing power left.

I couldn't make sense of what just happened on that bed. One second he was interrogating me, and the next, his lips were crushing mine, his hands holding me tight through the leather dress until heat ran straight down my spine. He dominated every second of it. Everything hit me at once until I completely lost control. My body gave out, and I trembled in his arms as the wave of pleasure washed over me.

When I finally collapsed against his chest, my heart was beating out of my control against his ribs.

Every logical part of my brain screamed that I had given in way too easily, but my body had simply stopped listening to me.

Having Damien Voss drop into my life was changing everything too fast. Last night, I was kissing Shan in a quiet yard; this morning, I was melting under Damien's touch on his bed. I couldn't help comparing the two. Shan’s kiss had been gentle and slow. Damien’s? Damien’s was heavy, demanding, and absolute.

And worst of all... Damien was the one who had just brought me to an explosive climax.

Get a grip, Ariana, I scolded myself. What is wrong with you? Are you really letting this man control you?

That single thought snapped my defense walls right back up.

I scrambled off him, standing up so fast his hands fell away.

"Since you've finished 'punishing' me, can I go now?" I asked, making my voice as hard as ice.

Damien sat up slowly, his dark eyes unreadable as he watched me.

"You're in a hurry to leave after that," he said flatly, his tone cold and steady.

"Nothing happened," I lied, crossing my arms to hide how badly my hands were shaking.

Damien let out a low, dry breath. "Don't bother lying, Ariana. I was right here."

"It doesn't matter," I snapped, refusing to let him see me sweat. "Can I have my phone and purse back? I have class."

"I don't know if the hangover ruined your memory," Damien said, standing up and fixing his cuffs, "but I told you yesterday that you are moving in today. Bruce is already picking up your things from your apartment."

My blood went cold. "Moving in today?!"

"No," I stuttered, taking a step back toward the door. "No, I'm not moving in today, Damien. I'm not doing this."

"It's already done," he replied, completely unbothered by my panic. "My staff will put your things in your room. You have your own wing." He said it like he was stating a simple business fact.

I needed to get out of this room. The control he had over my body was terrifying me.

"Just give me my phone," I demanded, keeping my jaw tight. "I need to go to class."

Damien's eyes moved slowly down to my pink leather dress. "You're going to college looking like that?"

I looked down. He was right—it was completely inappropriate for a morning lecture hall. But I was stuck.

"I don't have extra clothes in my purse, do I?" I said sarcastically.

"I had clothes brought for you. They're outside."

"Thanks," I muttered stiffly.

Damien gave a single nod and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Five minutes later, a young woman in a suit stepped in and handed me a heavy bag. Inside was a plain white Gucci hoodie, matching dark joggers, and clean white sneakers. Simple and comfortable.

I quickly changed out of the dress, fixed my lip gloss in the bathroom mirror, and prepared to leave.

I walked quietly down the marble hallway, heading for the front entrance, hoping to slip out without a word.

"Where are you going?"

Damien's flat, heavy voice stopped me right at the door. I turned around slowly. He was standing by his study, looking sharp and stone-faced.

"I'm leaving for class," I said flatly.

"You don't walk out of my house without informing me," he said, taking a slow step forward. "I need to know where you are at all times."

"Why?" I challenged, raising my chin. "So your guards can follow me everywhere?"

"So my security knows where you are," he corrected coldly. "You carry my name now."

"Or maybe," I spat back, "you're just worried about protecting your one-million-dollar investment."

Damien's eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression stayed completely cold. He stepped into my space, looming over me.

"Listen to me carefully," he said, his voice quiet, harsh, and smooth. "You signed a contract. That makes you my responsibility, and I don't lose what belongs to me. Don't mistake my security for a game."

I stepped back, putting distance between us. "Save the speech, Damien. You bought me from my mother, nothing more."

"I have a class to catch," I added sharply, turning away. "We're done talking."

I pulled the door open and walked out.

The second I reached the campus lawn, I saw Jade near the fountain, looking completely exhausted from her hangover.

"b***h, you ditched me last night!" she groaned, holding her head.

"I'm so sorry, Jade," I said gently. "It was a mess."

"You better tell me everything," she said, eyeing my designer hoodie. "And why did your terrifying husband beat up Shan?!"

"He's not my husband by choice," I muttered. "And he hit Shan because... he caught us..."

Jade’s eyes went wide. "Caught you doing what?!"

"Kissing," I mumble, looking down.

Jade gasped loudly. "What happened after that?! Where did he take you?"

"To his penthouse," I said, a nervous breath escaping me. "I stayed there overnight."

"Did he actually do anything to—"

Thud.

I was so distracted that I walked straight into a solid chest, stumbling backward.

"I'm so sorry—" I began, looking up.

The words died in my throat.

It was Shan. A dark, ugly purple bruise covered his jawline, and his lip was cut—courtesy of Damien's fists from last night.

My stomach dropped. "Shan... oh my god, Shan, I'm so sorry about last night—"

"Stay away from me, Ariana," Shan said, his voice completely cold and distant. He didn't even look me in the eye as he walked right past me.