Prologue.
The only reason Damien Vale was in the club was because Julian refused to stop talking, and was also with his car keys.
BLACK ORCHID—definitely the most praised VIP lounge, club, whatever you could call it, but Damien Vale doesn't care about such places.
Julian drove him here. His weird way of celebrating the Noxeran merger. Damien had gotten tired of arguing.
"Five minutes," Julian pressed. "If she's not worth your time, you send her out and have a goodnight rest."
"You hired a wom—"
"okayyy... I'll see you in the morning!" Julian pushed him in and locked the doors in his face.
Damien Vale's condition was no secret.
He didn't do women.
Didn't look at them.
Didn't touch them.
Many said he was gay, others called him impotent or maybe without a manhood down there entirely. Others called it sickness. A few whispered worse things when they thought he couldn’t hear them.
His own company had become proof of it.
The Vale Obsidian Group ran almost entirely without women. Not a single female executive sat in his inner circle. Gossips said the empire would collapse under its own arrogance someday.
They also said he needed an heir. Damien didn’t care. Adoption agencies existed for a reason.
Relaxing into the soft bedding, Damien loosened his tie. The lights dimmed into shades of red immediately, but he didn't bat an eyelash. Carefully grabbing a glass of alcohol that had already been set and waiting for him, the curtain in front moved.
A woman stepped into the light, grabbing the iron pole that was connected from ceiling to floor.
Damien's eyes lazily glazed over her.
The slow music started in the background and all he did was checked his wristwatch. Five minutes! That's what he promised Julian.
Her body began twisting around the pole and damien watched. There was basically nothing else to look at anyways. He knew this was pointless. He had tried many times and had just given up.
She twisted like a snake or even better, the lighting catching her every shift in movement.
Four minutes.
He took a long sip from his glass. Something about the rhythm and this night entirely had begun to feel off.
Three minutes.
The music had turned into scary echoes, his head throbbed, his chest was tightening.
Two minutes.
No. He didn't want to remember any bits of the past. Not tonight. He shook his head vigorously. Refocusing his eyes on the masked pole woman.
Alcohol in one hand, his pounding heart in the other.
He wanted her out of his sight.
One minute.
His foot tapped against the tiled floor breaking her routine, but she was skilled. She left the pole just when his eyes left her for his wristwatch.
"Hey." his voice broke through the music, "It's over now. Lea—"
But she was already there.
Already an inch close.
Already in his space...and the moment her hand rubbed his thigh, Damien grabbed it in a reflex. Something was wrong.
Something was deeply wrong.
Something was building inside of him.
Her scent travelled up his nostrils and fast — it was soft, velvety, invasive in all the wrong ways. Her raggedy breathe that fanned his face wasn't helping, but soon, he recognize that feeling inside of him.
No.
No.
That's....
That's impossible.
"Sir.." an airy whisper escaped her throat. She even dared to snatch her hand, but his grip tightened.
For the first time in years, Damien Vale can not explain why he can't let go.
"Kiss me." his first command rolled out.
Everywhere stilled.
Her face rose quietly and her lips went straight for his. It was a spark. Desire burned through his veins. His hands pulled her into himself. A hungry beast had awoken inside of him.
It was rough, far from passionate, only possessive and consuming. Damien couldn't control it. His hands were all over her and so was hers.
As he ravaged every inch of her, only one thought rang in his head.
KEEP HER.
