Crescentia stood frozen in place, her breath caught in her throat.
The man lounging on the couch before her was the last person she expected to see here.
Just hours ago, she had drenched him in alcohol at the club, and now, he was seated before her, legs crossed casually, dressed in black jeans that fit snugly around his powerful frame. His shirt, slightly unbuttoned, revealed just enough of his chiseled collarbone to hint at the body beneath.
A slow smirk curled his lips as he watched her like a predator who had cornered his prey, savoring the moment before striking.
Crescentia's heart pounded violently against her ribs.
This had to be some cruel trick of fate.
Clara had told her the client didn't have a profile, which should have been her first warning sign. But she never imagined that the same man who had nearly run her over earlier would now be sitting here, witnessing her body in barely anything.
Her skin heated at the thought, a faint flush creeping up her neck.
Damian took a slow sip from the crystal glass in his hand before speaking. "So, what now?"
His voice was smooth, rich, like the whiskey she imagined he drank—dark, expensive, and potent enough to leave a burn.
Uncrossing his legs, he stood up, picking up his glass of champagne. As he moved toward her, he gestured toward the old butler, dismissing him with a mere flick of his fingers. The man didn't hesitate to leave, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
Now, they were alone.
Damian's eyes flickered with amusement as he studied her rigid stance.
"Why so tense?" he asked, swirling the champagne in his glass. "Where's that fire from earlier? Aren't you going to curse at me? Call me crazy? Maybe throw in a blind driver insult for good measure?"
His voice was maddeningly calm, the same infuriating tone he had used at the club when she had stumbled into him.
Crescentia's hands curled into fists at her sides.
She didn't trust herself to speak, but her glare was sharp enough to do the talking for her.
Damian chuckled under his breath. "Why are you looking at me like that? You have murder in your eyes." He tilted his head. "Or maybe… you'd like to throw another drink in my face?"
He held out his glass to her, his smirk deepening.
"Go ahead. I dare you."
The challenge in his voice was enough to make her blood boil.
Her fingers clenched before she snatched the champagne from his grasp and, without hesitation, splashed it all over him.
Golden liquid dripped from his dark strands of hair, soaking into his expensive clothes.
Damian's expression didn't change. He merely ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back as a droplet rolled down the sharp line of his jaw.
"You must really love ruining my outfits," he muttered, swiping a thumb across his lips before lazily licking off the remaining champagne.
Crescentia ignored the heat that shot through her at the sight.
"This was a mistake. I'm leaving," she said sharply, turning toward the door.
"Are you sure about that?"
His voice was low, but there was something in it—something that made her hesitate.
"I'm willing to pay you a hundred thousand dollars for one night," he continued, his tone utterly indifferent, as if the sum meant nothing to him. "Don't you need the money for something… darling?"
Crescentia's entire body locked up.
Her breath came short as Noella's weak, frail figure flashed in her mind.
The hospital bills. The medicine.
Fear tightened around her throat like an iron collar.
Damian watched her, waiting.
She swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she slowly turned back around.
He had won.
Damian's smirk widened slightly. "That's what I thought."
She lifted her chin, keeping her expression unreadable. "Are we doing this here or in your bedroom?"
Her voice was soft, almost inviting, but there was an edge beneath it—one he didn't miss.
His dark eyes gleamed in amusement. "Follow me."
Without another word, he turned and strode toward the grand staircase.
Crescentia's heels clicked softly against the polished marble as she followed, her gaze drawn to the broad expanse of his back.
It was only now, walking behind him, that she realized just how tall he was.
Built like a giant.
His long, powerful strides led her down a dimly lit hallway before stopping in front of a door.
When he pushed it open, she immediately realized—it wasn't his bedroom.
The space was too simple, too impersonal.
A guest room.
She wasn't surprised. A man like Damian wouldn't be reckless enough to bring a stranger into his personal space.
She stepped inside cautiously, her gaze sweeping over the minimalistic decor. The large bed was neatly made, the dark sheets a sharp contrast against the sleek white walls. A single lamp cast a golden glow across the room, creating deep shadows.
When she turned back to him, she found him already watching her.
Her stomach twisted.
"Aren't you going to change?" she asked, folding her arms.
"Why bother?" His voice was almost lazy. "I'll be taking my clothes off soon anyway."
Crescentia's fingers twitched against her arms.
'That's right. I came here to sleep with a stranger.'
Damian took a slow step toward her.
He was too close.
His scent—spiced cologne laced with the lingering sweetness of champagne—wrapped around her, intoxicating and dangerous.
She swallowed hard.
Her heart pounded violently against her ribs.
In all the months she had dated Lucian, they had only kissed.
She had never been with anyone before.
Didn't even know how to initiate a kiss, let alone—
Damian's fingers tilted her chin upward, forcing her to look at him.
Emerald clashed with dark fire.
Neither of them spoke.
Then, without warning, his lips crashed against hers.
Crescentia stumbled back, but his grip was firm, his large hands securing her waist as he pulled her against him.
His body was fire—burning through her dress, through her skin, through every last piece of resistance she had left.
The bed pressed against the back of her knees.
She gasped as he deepened the kiss, but her lips remained stiff against his.
Damian stilled.
Then, without hesitation, he bit her lower lip.
A sharp sting.
A startled gasp.
That was all it took for her lips to part.
Damian wasted no time.
His tongue slid inside, claiming her mouth with a hunger that sent her head spinning. He angled her head just right, swallowing the small sounds that escaped her.
But something was wrong.
She was too stiff.
Damian's brows furrowed slightly.
Reluctantly, he pulled back, his breathing slightly heavier than before.
Crescentia's cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from his rough kisses. She looked utterly intoxicating.
Desire burned in his veins. His body ached to have her. However, he stopped himself.
"Have you done this before?" His voice was low, almost gentle.