His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.
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Chapter 8
Vesper ignored the file. She pushed it aside.
"I want the ring," she repeated. "I don't care about your investment advice."
Damon leaned back against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms. His biceps strained against the fabric of his white dress shirt.
"Take it."
He placed the ring on his chest, tucking it into the knot of his silk tie.
"Come and get it."
Vesper stared at him. "You're a child."
"I'm a man who wants to see how far you'll go," he corrected.
Vesper stepped forward. She reached for the ring.
Damon caught her wrist.
His grip was iron. His skin burned hers. There were no gloves today.
"Admit it," he growled, his voice rough. "You liked what happened at the hotel. You liked the lack of control."
"I was drugged," Vesper lied, her breath hitching.
"The drugs wore off by 3 AM," Damon countered. "You stayed until seven. We both know what happened in those four hours."
Vesper blushed.
He remembered. Every touch. Every sound.
Damon pulled her closer. She was now standing between his spread legs.
"Retrieve the ring, Vesper."
Vesper reached out, her hand shaking. She slid her fingers into the knot of his tie. She felt the heat radiating from his chest. She could feel his heart beating—fast, heavy, rhythmic.
She grabbed the cold metal of the ring.
But she didn't pull away.
Anger, lust, and frustration boiled over. She grabbed the silk of his tie with both hands.
She yanked it tight, choking him slightly.
"Here is your payment," she hissed, pulling his face down to hers.
Damon's eyes didn't widen in fear. They darkened. His pupils blew wide, swallowing the iris. He was turned on.
He grabbed her waist, his hands large and possessive. He lifted her effortlessly, slamming her onto the edge of the desk.
Papers flew everywhere. The file on Julian scattered across the floor.
He pressed his forehead against hers.
"You have a violent streak," he murmured against her lips. "I like it."
He kissed her.
It wasn't gentle. It was a collision. It was punishing and claiming. He tasted like espresso and power.
Vesper tried to push him away, but her hands curled into his shirt instead, pulling him closer. Her body betrayed her. She melted into him.
For a moment, the world dissolved.
Then, the intercom buzzed. A harsh, grating sound.
"Sir," Scott's voice crackled, sounding panicked. "Julian Sterling is here. He's demanding to see you. He's making a scene."
Vesper froze. Ice water flooded her veins.
Damon pulled back, breathing hard. His lips were swollen. His tie was a mess.
He looked at the door. Then he looked at Vesper.
He smirked. He pressed the intercom button.
"Let him in."
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