3. Damien
1451 Words
"I'm sorry but I must ask you to leave right away." The woman said her smile fading.
I expected such a response.
"Please, just hear me out," I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice. Perhaps Mr. Waynley had mentioned something about his intended fiancée.
"My name is Ashley Rashford, he should be expecting me." I said hopefully.
"Miss Rashford?" she questioned.
I nodded confidently.
"Right this way, please. Mr. Waynley has been expecting you," she said, leading me toward an elevator.
So, he had been anticipating my arrival. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Stepping into the elevator, I heard a faint clanking noise, which I chose to ignore. The transparent walls of the elevator allowed me to admire the magnificent view of the city as we ascended. A sense of déjà vu washed over me, reminiscent of the times when I used to visit my father's office, where a similar elevator overlooked the cityscape. As the elevator came to a halt on the 44th floor, my anticipation grew.
I stepped out of the room and was immediately ushered into an expansive office, filled with an air of grandeur. The vastness of the space was evident, providing ample room to move around. As I approached the windows, I was greeted by a stunning panoramic view of the city below. The height at which I stood offered a breathtaking perspective, one that would have prompted me to pause and appreciate the scenery under different circumstances. However, given the purpose of my visit, I couldn't afford the luxury of distraction.
Taking a moment to compose myself, I glanced at my reflection in a nearby mirror. It was then that I noticed a missing button from my shirt, the cause of the faint sound I had heard earlier. It seemed like a trivial inconvenience, but it added to my mounting frustration. "Great, just great!" I muttered under my breath, frustrated by the unexpected wardrobe malfunction.
As I turned my attention to the person occupying revolving chair, my breath caught in my throat. The man was initially facing the window, seemingly engrossed in the cityscape. Slowly, he swiveled around, acknowledging my presence. For a moment, I was utterly taken aback.
Before me stood Damien—yes, the Damien Waynley—a figure of awe and admiration. His piercing emerald eyes locked with mine, and a surge of electricity coursed through my veins, momentarily stealing my ability to breathe. It was almost surreal to find myself face-to-face with this unreal looking man. With his lustrous dark hair and effortlessly striking features, he emitted a captivating charisma that hinted at his worldly wisdom and maturity.
Silently, he continued to observe me, his piercing gaze carefully scrutinizing every aspect of my appearance. I could feel his eyes moving from the top of my head down to my toes, lingering on my face for an extended moment. It was an uncomfortable situation, and I found myself glaring back at him, feeling both intimidated and defiant. How dare he subject me to such scrutiny?
Returning his gaze, I matched his thorough examination with one of my own, scanning his form from head to toe. It was impossible to ignore his undeniable attractiveness. His jet-black hair, stylishly tousled as if he had repeatedly run his hands through it, gave him a rugged appeal. Even though he was seated, I could discern the broadness of his chest, hinting at his physical strength. A sudden smile broke across his face, his lips full and sensual, and it transformed his features, evoking a warmth that weakened my knees. Unconsciously, my attention was drawn to his lips, and I couldn't help but notice the effect it had on me. His mere presence seemed to awaken a primal desire within me, causing a rush of heat and moisture in the most intimate recesses of my being. Damn, he was undeniably attractive.
I had walked into this encounter fully prepared to voice my disapproval, ready to express my disdain for a man who would dare make an offer to purchase a wife in this modern age. However, his striking appearance made it increasingly difficult to maintain my composure. I despised how effortlessly he exuded confidence, aware of the power his looks held over a woman's body. He was nothing more than a narcissistic individual, and my disdain for him grew with each passing moment.
Ah, Miss Astrid, we finally meet," he spoke, his voice resonating with a deep and powerful timbre. I sucked in a breath, determined not to make a fool of myself.
"Damien Waynley," I replied curtly. "I believe you know why I'm here?"
He reclined in his chair, only to suddenly spring up and stride toward me in long, powerful strides. His legs were unnaturally long, and he moved with an irritating gracefulness. He approached me, and a scent of ice and mint wafted toward me, teasing my nostrils. He exuded an aura of overwhelming masculinity. As he stared intently at my face, examining my features up close, then circled me, predatory, I felt a mix of conflicting emotions surge within me.
Disgust welled up within me as I realized that his objectifying gaze was turning me on, treating me like a piece of meat he was about to purchase. The complex cocktail of repulsion and attraction churned within, leaving me bewildered and unnerved.
"Sit," he commanded. Reluctantly, I took a seat in one of the chairs, suddenly feeling a chill. Was it his gaze or the chair that sent shivers down my spine?
"What's this business about us getting married? Surely, with your influence, finding a wife wouldn't be a hassle. Why resort to my family's doomed company and offer marriage?" I rushed, feeling breathless. I wanted to be done with this.
"Doomed? Well, Emerald Co. has been around for years, boasting connections and a reputable name. It can be salvaged. So, I've graciously decided to save it," he responded.
"And?" I pressed on.
"And I need a wife without any attachments, solely for my personal needs. At least until I get bored. Kind of like a contracted arrangement, but with the added bonus of marriage in name. This is me doing you a favor, Astrid. Have you even bothered to read the contract?" He locked eyes with me. I hadn't checked the details yet and my blank look gave me away.
"You stormed down here without reading it? I believe you'll comprehend better once you've read it," he said with a tinge of sadness beneath the coldness. He blinked, and his face reverted to its stone-cold expression.
He came closer, perching himself on the edge of the table and leaning toward me. He ran his hands through my hair. "Have you ever considered dyeing your hair? Brown would look really good on you," he suddenly remarked.
"Are you suggesting that I dye my hair?" I questioned. Gazing into his eyes. He held my gaze for a moment
"No, it's merely a suggestion," he drawled slowly retracting his hands. "It's a good deal, don't you think? With plenty of benefits. I save your family's company, and you might get to fulfill certain desires," he leaned closely whispering against my neck.
I shot him a look of surprise. "What desires? Do you assume every woman is attracted to you?"
"Nope, I don't assume that," he relaxed back with a boyish grin that tugged at my heart. "Not everyone is attracted to me." He stated smugly.
His hands reached out toward my neck, and my breath hitched. He stroked my chin slowly, almost affectionately.
"You'll regain everything you ever desired, just as it was before your parents' death, even better than before. You won't have to struggle anymore, to work double shifts at the bar." he said, causing me to stand up in surprise.
"How did you know? No one knows that about me," I exclaimed In astonishment, taken aback by his words.
"How could you possibly know? No one is aware of my circumstances." I stuttered
"I know everything about you, Astrid. I am acquainted with your sleeping habits, your leisure activities, Where you go and what you do. Every aspect of your life is within my grasp. I am well aware of your situation, which currently holds you captive. Additionally, I know about your financial struggles. The debts you inherited and also, you had to take out a loan to cover your mortgage, which you struggle to pay monthly from your meager salary, coupled with your current debts from your agreement with Felicia Romerez." His words lingered, as he looked deeply into my eyes once again.
Shock consumed me, causing goosebumps to crawl over my skin while my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
- Writer
