When the maid pushed the door open, Sofia stepped slowly inside the dimly lit room. Her heart pounding loudly like it was about to explode.
Inside she saw Damien sitting on a chair near the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring out into the night.
He didn't look at her.
Didn't speak.
Didn't move.
His shoulders were tight, his jaw clenched. He looked like a man drowning in memories he couldn't escape.
Sofia stood silently by the doorway, unsure if she should speak or wait. The room felt too big, too dark—like it was swallowing her whole.
After a long moment, Damien finally turned.
His green eyes were cold. Hard. Bitter.
Nothing like the boy she used to know.
He stared at her without a single drop of warmth, as if she were a stranger… or worse, someone he despised. It felt like he was looking through her—searching for another face she could never be.
Then he placed the glass down and stood.
Sofia flinched when he grabbed her arms. His grip was rough, so painful that she could feel it already leaving marks.
"My Lola should have been here," Damien spat, his voice thick with anger and grief. "Not you."
Tears gathered in her eyes. Her lips trembled, but she held herself still. She had known he loved Lola… but hearing it now, like this, made the pain twice as sharp.
Damien's eyes darkened.
"You wanted me, didn't you?" he spat. "Especially the day you walked in on us."
Sofia's eyes widened.
No. Not that memory. Not now.
She had gone to the mansion's kitchen that day to fetch something. She hadn't meant to see anything. But she had walked straight into Lola pressed against a desk, sharing a heated kiss with Damien.
Even now, she still struggled to erase that image from her mind.
"I didn't want to see that," Sofia whispered. "I didn't want to intrude."
Damien stepped closer, anger swirling in his eyes.
"But you did." His voice was ice. "Just like you're intruding on my life now. You think you can replace her?"
Sofia shook her head quickly. "I'm not trying to replace anyone."
He scoffed, his lip curling.
"Liar. I saw it in your eyes that day. You wished it was you."
He released her arms roughly.
"Well," Damien said, his voice low and full of hate for her, a feeling he was forcing himself to feel, "congratulations. You have me now. Tonight you'll learn what it's like to have me inside you."
Her heart felt like it shattered. Tears blurred her vision. She blinked them away quickly, but she could not hide the way she trembled.
Damien looked her up and down—slowly, coldly—like he was inspecting something he hated.
"Undress," he ordered.
Sofia froze.
Her breath hitched.
She couldn't move.
"Did you not hear me?" Damien's tone sharpened. He stepped closer, towering over her. "I said undress. Now."
Her hands shook. She looked around desperately for a way out, but there was none. She was his sex slave… this was her decision… this was the exchange she made… to be able to live, she had to be a sex slave to the one she had loved all her life.
Finally, with trembling fingers, she reached for the ribbon of her silk robe. Carefully, painfully, she loosened it. The robe slipped off her shoulders and fell to the floor.
She stood naked in front of him.
Damien stared at her with a mixture of disgust and rage. Or let's say a fake one… because the moment her curvy naked body was on display to him, he felt his cock twist… he felt his whole body react, but he wouldn't tell her that or let her see it… instead he put on a fake disgusted look and glared at her.
"Look at you," he said quietly. "You will never be her."
The words struck Sofia like a physical blow. This was the first time she was standing fully naked before a man only to hear this… only for him to feel so disgusted at her.
"I'm not trying to be Lola," she whispered, even though sometimes—just sometimes—she wished she had been loved like Lola was loved.
Damien moved closer again.
"Just because you killed her, you think you can take her place? You can't."
Sofia flinched at the bitterness in his voice.
"Please… I didn't kill her… you know me, Damien," she whispered.
Damien frowned… yes, of course he knew her… the kind-hearted girl he grew up with, but she changed… she changed into the fake girl who did terrible things and hid behind an innocent face.
"Don't beg," he said sharply. "You'll only make it worse."
His breath brushed her skin as he leaned in, his voice cold against her ear.
"Tonight is about fulfilling your duty. Whether you like it or not."
Her heart twisted painfully, and then Damien took a step back… his eyes on her face, not wanting them to fall on her body because he was already losing himself and was trying everything in his power not to devour her.
"I'm not a rapist," Damien said, his voice tight. "No matter how much I hate you, I won't force myself on you."
Sofia's eyes lifted a little, surprised by the sudden shift in his voice.
Damien kept talking.
"So let's make something clear," he said. "This life—being my sex slave—was your choice. This was the deal you made to stay alive."
His eyes remained locked on hers.
"So tell me, Sofia," he said slowly. "Do you really agree to this?"
The room fell silent.
Sofia's breath shook. She knew the truth.
If she said no… they would drag her back outside and execute her. Her story would end.
If she said yes… she would live.
But she would live like this.
Owned. Controlled. Used whenever he wished.
And yet…
He was the man she had loved her whole life.
She had imagined being close to him many times—but not like this.
Never like this.
Her voice came out soft and trembling.
"Yes," she whispered. "I agree."
Damien's eyes flickered, but he covered it fast.
"Good," he said, stepping back. "Then go to the bed."
Filled with embarrassment and shame, Sofia wrapped her arms around her chest and moved toward the bed with shaky legs.
"Turn your back and get on all fours," Damien ordered.