Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist

I struggled with everything I had and sank my teeth straight into Damian's wrist. Damian grunted in pain, his grip loosening instinctively. I seized the chance, twisting free and rolling off him to the other side of the bed, clutching my throat as I coughed violently. Damian's expression darkened instantly, his face turning stormy. "In the middle of the night, you climb into my bed? Talk. What exactly are you trying to do?" I coughed until tears blurred my vision, then decided to play dumb all the way. "I… I just wanted to give you a goodnight kiss!" Damian stared at me for a few seconds, as if weighing whether I was lying. In the end, he threw off the covers and got out of bed, his tall frame radiating pure pressure. "Get back to your room." I shrank back, scrambled off the bed, and bolted out of his room like I was escaping for my life. The next morning, I was jolted awake by a series of urgent knocks. A maid stood at the door, expressionless, holding out a set of clothes. "Mr. Blackwood asked you to put this on." It was a custom silk nightdress, smooth to the touch and obviously expensive. After changing, I stepped out of the room barefoot. Voices from the Hartwell family echoed from the hall downstairs. I walked to the top of the stairs and looked down. Natalie was clinging to Margaret's arm, a smug, almost gleeful look on her face. Richard stood nearby, rubbing his hands together as he spoke to the butler with an ingratiating smile. They were here to collect a corpse. They must've assumed Damian had already killed me and came prepared to put on a show—cry, make a scene, and squeeze out a massive payout. Margaret looked up—and froze when she saw me standing on the stairs. Her expression locked in place, like she'd just seen a ghost. "Vivian? How are you…" Natalie froze too, her eyes glued to my expensive nightdress, jealousy practically blazing out of them. Margaret recovered first, instantly switching to a doting mother act as she hurried toward the stairs, reaching for my hand. "Vivian, thank God you're okay! I was so worried about you!" As she spoke, she lowered her voice so only I could hear her. "You're lucky you didn't die. Behave yourself, serve Mr. Blackwood properly, and bring more money back to the family." I pulled away in disgust. Looking at her fake smile made my stomach churn. At that moment, the study door opened, and Damian stepped out. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, radiating an untouchable, intimidating aura. The moment Richard saw him, he rushed forward with a fawning smile. "Mr. Blackwood, my daughter Vivian grew up in the countryside and lacks manners. If she offended you in any way, I hope you'll be forgiving." I let out a cold laugh and slowly rolled up the sleeve of my silk nightdress in front of everyone. My arm was covered in dense, crisscrossing scars. Long whip marks, round cigarette burns, and scars from frostbite. Every single one of them was thanks to the Hartwell family. "This is what life looked like for your so-called 'ill-mannered' daughter in your family!" The entire hall fell silent. Damian's gaze locked onto my scars, the pressure around him dropping to something suffocating. Natalie's face turned deathly ashen. She quickly put on a pitiful expression, her eyes reddening as she tried to defend herself. "Vivian, you can't lie and frame us just to get Mr. Blackwood's attention! You were clearly the one who—" "Enough." Damian cut her off coldly, ending her performance. "Even the dogs in my family live better than she did." He strode over and stopped beside me, his tall frame like a wall, shielding me completely. Without sparing the Hartwells another glance, he gave a simple order to the butler. "Throw them out." The three of them were roughly seized by the guards and dragged toward the door. As Natalie passed by me, her face twisted as she spat her curse. "Mr. Blackwood's just never played with someone like you before. Once the novelty wears off, he'll torture you to death!"