~Bianca's POV~
The room looked like a velvet-covered nightmare.
Dark red walls flickered with shadows, and chains shone under the warm lights, sharp and ready. Leather straps hung in neat lines—some thick, some thin—each one hinting at pain or control. A large X-Cross stood at the far wall with straps at each each, surrounded by shelves filled with gags, ropes, cuffs, and clamps, all laid out like they belonged in a shrine to power and submission.
It carried the scent of leather and musk. Of power and sin.
A red room.
Every inch dared me to kneel.
My heels sank into a plush carpet, and my chest tightened. This wasn't just a space—it was an invitation and a warning, a place built to strip you down, body and soul.
Then I saw Damien standing by a tall mirror, no longer in a suit but in
