Father, please! I cried out, my voice cracking in the quiet room. "You can't do this. You can't just give me to him!"
My father wouldn't look at me. He was pacing the floor, his face pale and covered in sweat. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost.
Aurelia, stop it, he snapped, but his voice was shaking. I don't have a choice. The debt is too big. He's coming to collect, and this is the only way.
But he's a demon! I sobbed, my hands gripping the armrests of my wheelchair so hard my knuckles turned white. "Everyone knows who Damien is. He's cold, he's heartless. You can't just sell me to a monster like that. Please, I'm begging you, Father! Don't let him take me!"
"It's already done," he whispered. "The papers are ready. He's on his way."....
Hey beautiful readers! I'm a new writer and I know I'm not perfect yet. If you spot any errors or have ideas, please feel free to drop a review or a comment! Let's work together to make this story amazing. Happy reading! ❤️"
The night air was thick and heavy outside our fancy villa. It felt like it was pressing its face against the glass windows, just watching and waiting. I have always been a bit of a scaredy cat when it comes to the dark. When I was a little girl, I thought monsters lived in the shadows. Now that I am twenty four, I know the real monsters do not hide under beds. They wear five thousand dollar suits and walk right through the front door. Tonight, the vibe was just off. The house felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for something bad to happen.
I was sitting right in the middle of the living room. My hands were squeezed together in my lap. I could feel the cold metal of my wheelchair against my skin. It was a constant reminder that I could not just get up and run away when things got scary. My dad was in the hallway behind me. His voice was high and shaky. He always sounds like that when he is talking about money or when he is in deep trouble. In his world, those two things are usually the same.
I hated nights like this. I felt like a little doll sitting on a shelf, just waiting to see if I was going to be moved or totally smashed. My life was never really mine. It was just a long line of waiting rooms. I was waiting for my dad to make a choice, waiting for a doctor, waiting for the next disaster. Tonight, it felt like the waiting was finally over.
Then, I heard it.
It was a low, heavy sound. It was the growl of a car engine that definitely did not belong in our quiet driveway. It sounded like a beast. My dad stopped talking instantly. I saw his shadow on the floor and he looked like he was turning into stone. My stomach did a nervous flip. This was not a business partner coming over for a drink. This was a predator coming to claim his territory.
The front door opened. There was no knock. No polite "hello." It was slow and quiet. The air in the room suddenly felt like it dropped twenty degrees. It became sharp and thin. I had to force myself to turn my head and look.
He was there.
He was the tallest man I had ever seen. He was broad and solid, and he seemed to soak up all the light in the room. He made our huge living room feel like a tiny cage just by standing there. He did not smile. He did not look at my dad. He just walked in and the whole world felt like it tilted. I wanted to hide, but my body would not move. I was just stuck there, pinned by how intense he was.
He stopped a few feet away from me. He had a long black coat on and black leather gloves that looked like a second skin. Under the lights of the chandelier, his eyes were incredible. They were not brown or blue. They were like liquid gold. They were glowing with a heat that made my heart go crazy. I was like a little bird staring at a snake. I knew he could destroy me, but I could not look away.
Then, something really weird happened.
Deep inside his chest, a sound started. It was a growl. It was so low but I could feel it vibrating through the floor and into the wheels of my chair. It did not sound human at all. It was pure hunger. His eyes locked onto mine and I actually forgot how to breathe. My heart was slamming against my ribs so hard I thought it might break them.
In that look, something shifted. It was like an ancient spark. Whatever was living behind those golden eyes seemed to scream one word: Mate.
The room was totally silent. I did not know what that word meant to him, but the way he looked at me made my skin feel like it was on fire. I was scared, sure, but I was also feeling a weird rush. My body was reacting to him in a way I could not explain. I knew right then that he was not here for the money my dad owed. He was here for me.
My dad cleared his throat. He sounded like a terrified little boy.
"Damien... sir," he said. He was messing with his tie and looking like he might faint.
Damien did not even look at him. He did not care about the man who owed him everything. He just kept his eyes on me. It felt like he was reading my soul. He looked past my wheelchair and my silk dress. He saw every secret I ever had. He saw my fear and he saw that little bit of fire I still had left inside.
I swallowed hard. My throat felt like it was full of sand. I had to remind myself to breathe. In and out. I tried to tell myself he was just a man with a heart and a name. But my pulse was racing a mile a minute. A part of me wanted to lean closer because he was so warm. Another part of me wanted to wheel myself into a dark corner and hide. I stayed perfectly still.
He took a step closer. The air seemed to bend around him. My wheelchair felt so small and weak. I could feel the heat coming off him in waves.
Then, I smelled him. It was a mix of leather, woodsmoke, and a hint of something cold, like winter air on a knife. It was a masculine, sexy smell that made my chest ache. My heart was a drum in my throat.
"You are Aurelia Russo," he said.
His voice was a deep, dark rumble. It vibrated in my bones. It was the voice of a man who owns everything he sees. He was not asking me. He was stating a fact. He was claiming me.
I tried to say something to show I was not just a doll, but no sound came out. My dad stepped forward, looking pale and sweaty. He was probably going to make another bad excuse.
Damien just moved his hand a little bit. It was just a flick of his gloved fingers. My dad froze instantly. His mouth shut like it was clamped.
I was feeling so many things. Fear? Yes. But there was also this crazy, hot spark of desire. I did not want to admit it, but it was there. I was confused and trapped. My legs were shaking with a nervous energy even though they did not work. My hands gripped my chair so hard my knuckles were white.
Damien's eyes got a little softer for a split second. I almost missed it, but it made my stomach do a slow roll. It was not pity. It was recognition. Then his face went hard again.
"You do not need to speak," he said.
He was not being mean. He was just being final. He was the guy who had already decided how the story was going to end.
I got it then. Whatever he came for, he was taking. My life, which used to belong to my dad's mistakes, was now being handed to this huge, scary, beautiful man. I did not belong to myself anymore. Maybe I never had.
My dad started whining again. "Damien... please! We can work this out! I can get the cash by the end of the month!"
"Quiet," Damien said.
One word. That was all it took. My dad shut up. He looked so small in Damien's shadow. Damien never stopped looking at me. The silence was so heavy.
Something woke up inside me. It was fear, but also a wild curiosity. My dad spent my whole life telling me I was a problem. But the way this man looked at me... he did not see a problem. He saw something else.
Why me? I wanted to ask. What do you see when you look at a girl who can't even walk out of the room? But I pushed the questions down. Asking questions only leads to pain in my world.
Damien took another step. He was so close I could see the faint, sexy scar on his jaw. I thought of it as one of his painted scars, a mark of a dangerous life. I could see his big hands in those leather gloves. They looked strong enough to crush stones or hold me very, very tightly. I could smell gunpowder on his coat. It made my stomach tighten. He was a man of violence and shadows.
He did not touch me yet, but the promise of it was hanging in the air. It felt like a storm was about to hit. I wanted to scream for help, but I also wanted to stay right there.
"You belong to me now," he said.
It was not a threat. It was a declaration. He was claiming my future and my body with four simple words.
I wanted to look away, but his eyes pinned me. He did not need to use force. His presence was enough of a cage. I realized he could break me without ever lifting a finger.
"Damien..." my dad started again. His voice was like a leaf in the wind. "This wasn't the deal."
"It is," Damien said.
He did not even look at the man. His whole universe was just the space between him and me. His focus was all consuming. It was the kind of attention that could make you feel like the only person in the world or burn you to ashes.
I tried to process it. A stranger walked into my house and changed my whole life in five minutes. He was taking me as payment for a debt I did not sign for. I had no say. No voice.
I felt a sob in my throat but I pushed it down. I would not cry in front of him. I wanted to disappear, but I just sat there. I felt the cold air and the scary reality that my life had been stolen.
But I could not hate him. Not totally. Those golden eyes had a fierce protectiveness in them. It was a hunger that felt like he wanted to shield me as much as he wanted to own me. It was a confusing, aching feeling.
He stepped back and I shivered when his heat left. My body slumped a little. The deal was set.
Damien was here for me. The old Aurelia was dead.