Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“Yes, Damien! Oh, yes.” My eyes close and I’m floating in the stars. “Damien,” I moan as my orgasm starts to rise. His name falls from my lips like a prayer, and I can’t stop. I can’t find my voice. I have no words until my orgasm explodes from my body and I cry out, “Damien. Oh, Damien. God, I love you!”
The pleasure thrashes me around like I’m in the middle of an ocean during a storm. My body isn’t my own, it’s Damien’s. He owns me.
Mind, body and soul.
Completely.
It takes me a long time to come down from the powerful orgasm, but when I do, I realize what I said. I also realize Damien hasn’t said a word.
Fuck. Me.
I sit up and look down at his stunned face. “Should I apologize?” My heart is in my throat as I watch his face in search of any flicker of emotion, but Damien gives nothing away. “Damien?”
He snaps out of whatever has a hold of him and his gaze slides to mine, still blank. “No, you don’t need to apologize.”
Damien stands up and licks his lips, which should be hot, but he turns on his heels and disappears into the bathroom without a word.
I lay there feeling like shit.
Vulnerable and exposed and so fucking alone that I want to cry. But I’m a cop, a decorated homicide detective and I don’t cry over men.
Not even gorgeous billionaires who break my heart.
CHAPTER FIVE
Damien
I inhale deeply as I step out of the car, the crisp Los Angeles air filling my lungs. Refreshed and ready. The time away with Frankie was a strategic investment, and it’s already paying off.
She’s falling harder for me with every passing second. I can see it in the way she looks at me, feel it in the way she melts under my touch. The beautiful detective doesn’t stand a chance against my charms. Our bond grows stronger, tighter, like a noose around her slender neck.
And when the time comes to reveal my true self, to watch her world shatter into a million jagged pieces? I can already taste her devastation on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating.
I’m so close to having Frankie exactly where I want her. Helpless. Betrayed. Mine. But first, I need to smooth over my reaction to her little love confession. Those three words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut, leaving me reeling in a way I haven’t felt in decades.
Shocking, really. I can’t remember the last time someone said they loved me. Hell, I can barely conjure up the sound of Olivia’s voice from our childhood. But Frankie’s declaration ripped through me, dragging me back in time as repressed memories clawed their way to the surface.
Wait, I remember now. The last time I heard those words was from my mother’s lips, right before she and Dad left for their weekly date night. A night they never returned from because some worthless scumbags robbed and killed them in cold blood. Her love was the final flicker of warmth I felt before the ice consumed me.
That’s when they took us to that shithole. That’s when the monsters on The List stole my sister’s innocence and shattered her dreams into dust.
But I can’t dwell on the past. Not when there’s work to be done.
I zero in on my newest target, studying his every move with meticulous precision. I already have enough dirt on him to warrant his place on The List, but I’m thorough.
I watch as he stumbles out of the office building, making his way to the same seedy bar he always frequents. He slugs back beers with his so-called friends, all smiles and bravado. Hits on anything in a skirt, his wedding ring glinting mockingly under the city lights. The poor bastard has no idea he’s being watched.
An account manager for some mid-tier insurance racket, clocking in dutifully ever since he said I do three years ago. But no vow can tame his wandering eye or his greedy hands. A skirt-chasing sleazebag, betraying his bride with every batting lash, every accidental brush of the hip.
Another black mark etched next to his name.
I retreat to my office, unwilling to risk Frankie stumbling upon my research. I dig deeper into every facet of his life—the carefully curated image he projects on social media, the sordid secrets he hides in private messages to women who aren’t his wife.
Hours slip by as I gather every scrap of information, piecing together the perfect moment to strike. Some things never change, and men like him? They see women as objects to conquer, use, and discard at will. Maybe that’s who he’s always been. Or maybe that fateful day years ago twisted him into the monster he is now.
Not that it matters. Vengeance is the only thing on my mind, and his patterns prove he’s the same piece of shit he’s always been. Hurting the good people in his life to satisfy his own wicked urges.