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 9
"Hide," Damon commanded.
He pointed to the knee-hole of the massive desk. It was enclosed on three sides.
"Are you insane?" Vesper whispered.
"Do you want him to find you here? Looking like that?" Damon gestured to her. Her lipstick was smudged. Her blouse was askew. She looked thoroughly ravished.
Vesper scrambled off the desk. She smoothed her skirt and crawled into the dark space under the desk just as the heavy door handle began to turn.
Damon sat in his chair. He pulled it in close to the desk, effectively sealing Vesper inside.
She was trapped in the darkness, curled up by his feet.
The door burst open.
"Damon!" Julian's voice was shrill. "We need to talk about the merger!"
Vesper held her breath. She saw Julian's expensive Italian loafers enter the room. He was alone. But as he paced closer, a waft of scent drifted under the desk. Vanilla and cloying sweetness. Serena's perfume. It clung to him.
"You don't knock, Julian?" Damon asked. His voice was calm, composed.
"I don't have time for pleasantries," Julian snapped. "Serena is in the car downstairs. She's sick. I need to get this over with."
"Ah," Damon said. "The pregnant pop star. How touching."
Vesper looked up in the darkness. She couldn't see Damon's face, only the underside of the desk and his legs.
"I need a loan," Julian said, pacing. "Vesper... she's poking around the accounts. She's refusing to sign the disbursement papers. I need cash to secure the condo before she figures it out."
"Why?" Damon asked. "Is your wife becoming... difficult?"
"She's a nuisance," Julian spat. "Once the baby is born, I'm dumping her. I just need to wait for the morality clause in the prenup to expire."
Vesper felt a tear slide down her cheek. Hearing it was different than suspecting it.
Damon shifted in his chair. His hand dropped down to the side, resting on the armrest support, just inches from where Vesper was huddled.
He didn't reach for her. He didn't make any movement that Julian could see. But his pinky finger brushed against her shoulder. A silent acknowledgement. I hear him too.
"I wouldn't be so sure, Julian," Damon said to his brother. "Women can be... surprising."
"She's a doormat," Julian scoffed. "She has no talent, no spine. She's nothing without the Sterling name."
Vesper bristled. Rage burned through her sadness.
Damon's finger tapped against her shoulder, a rhythmic, calming beat. Or maybe a warning. Wait.
"Get out, Julian," Damon said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Before I decide to audit your personal accounts myself."
"You wouldn't," Julian said, faltering.
"Try me. Get out."
The door slammed.
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