It was never supposed to happen.
Not the bar. Not the fourth shot of vodka. Not the man with the storm-gray eyes who looked like he stepped out of a forbidden fantasy. And definitely not waking up in a strange bed that smelled like power, lust, and something faintly dangerous.
But it happened.
The moment I opened my eyes, I felt it. The heat. The soreness. The unfamiliar silk sheets twisted around my naked body like a silent witness. The ceiling was high—vaulted, with crown molding and a chandelier that looked more expensive than my entire life savings. The walls were a smooth matte black, contrasting sharply with the soft ivory bedding that wrapped around me. There was a taste on my tongue, faintly bitter and electric, like expensive liquor and the echo of a man's lips.
A man who was sitting at the edge of the bed, bare-chested, spine rigid, staring out of a tall window with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His muscles were carved, each ridge and curve painted in shadow. A dragon tattoo coiled along his spine—its tail flicking just beneath the waistband of his gray slacks.
He didn't look back when he spoke.
"You're finally awake."
His voice was deep. Cold. Controlled. And yet there was something beneath it—a huskiness, a tension that whispered of a night I couldn't quite remember.
My heartbeat was uneven. "Where... am I?"
He stood slowly, turning toward me, and the full force of him hit me like a punch to the gut.
Tall. Brutally handsome. Jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Hair messy from sleep or sex. Stormy gray eyes that looked like they belonged to a man who never asked for anything—but always took what he wanted.
"Penthouse suite. My bed," he said. "You asked me to ruin you."
I blinked at him. "I don't even know your name."
His lips curved into a smirk that was anything but kind. "Damian. Damian Calyx Vellano."
The name registered slowly. A whisper I'd heard on television. A headline I'd skimmed over. Billionaire. Tech god. The man whose artificial intelligence empire was rewriting the world.
And the man whose fingers were now grazing a folder on his bedside table.
"I thought I'd give you a moment," he said, "before we got to business."
My skin crawled as I pulled the sheets tighter around me. "Business?"
He stepped closer and placed the black folder gently on the bed.
"Read it."
My fingers hesitated, then opened it.
A contract.
Legal terms. Fine print. Multiple pages. And one very specific clause that made my heart seize.
Clause 13: Consummation is expected for authenticity.
"What the hell is this?" I snapped.
He knelt in front of me, leaning close. I could smell the whisky on his breath. Expensive. Aged. Sharp.
"An opportunity," he said. "One year. You live here. You act as my fiancée. I take care of everything. You smile at cameras, attend events, wear diamonds. And in return… you don't have to worry about your sister's hospital bills ever again."
My throat tightened. "How do you know about my sister?"
"I know everything about you, Leona."
I froze.
He knew my name.
I never told him my name.
"You were drunk, but you didn't tell me anything," I whispered. "How do you know?"
He rose, walking to the window again, back to me.
"I did my research," he said simply. "Long before last night."
My heart thundered. "This was planned."
"Meticulously."
I wanted to scream. To cry. But I couldn't show weakness. Not in front of this man.
"You lured me here," I said.
He turned, one brow raised. "You came willingly."
I clenched the sheets tighter. "Because I didn't know who you were."
His smile was sharp. "Now you do."
The silence stretched between us like a tightrope.
"And if I don't sign this?" I asked.
He took a long sip of whiskey, then looked me dead in the eye.
"Then I'll send the footage of last night to your ex-boyfriend. The one who tried to auction your nudes. I'm sure he'd pay handsomely to ruin you all over again."
My blood turned cold. "You're sick."
"I'm a businessman," he said. "I protect my investments. And you, Leona, are a very rare one."
I stared at the pen beside the folder. My hands were shaking.
"I won't sleep with you again."
He didn't blink. "You will."
"I won't love you."
"I'm not asking you to."
I swallowed. "What's in this for you?"
His voice dropped to a near growl. "You'll find out. Eventually."
I picked up the pen. My sister's face flashed before my eyes. Her tired smile. Her whispered thanks every time I came home, even with nothing. My pride had never saved her. But maybe my sacrifice could.
I signed.
He watched me the entire time, like a hunter watching a deer walk into the trap it never saw coming.
And I knew—deep down—I'd just made the worst mistake of my life.
But I also knew...
Damian Calyx Vellano had just become my biggest mistake, my only hope, and my most dangerous addiction.
He didn't give me time to breathe.
The moment the pen left the paper, Damian was already back at the edge of the bed, towering over me with eyes that burned like ice set on fire.
"Get dressed," he said simply.
"I don't have anything to wear," I said. "You took my clothes."
He tilted his head slightly. "Correction. You ripped them off yourself. Very enthusiastically, I might add."
My face flushed. "Can you not—"
But he was already walking to a massive walk-in closet. He tossed a white silk shirt and a pair of black slacks on the bed. "Put these on. We have somewhere to be."
"Now?"
"Now."
He didn't wait. He just walked out of the room like he hadn't just turned my entire life into a ticking bomb.
I exhaled shakily and pulled on the clothes. His shirt smelled like him—clean, dark, and expensive. The pants were a bit too long but cinched nicely with a gold-buckled belt.
I walked into the main living space of the penthouse. It was coldly luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a skyline that sparkled like diamonds. Damian stood near the grand piano, typing something rapidly on a sleek tablet.
When he noticed me, he nodded.
"Good. Let's go."
"To where?"
"To see your sister."
I stopped. "What?"
"She's being moved. Private care. You need to approve the paperwork."
It was too much. Too fast. My head was spinning.
"You're controlling everything already."
He didn't smile. "No, Leona. I'm giving you control. I just put a price on it."
Outside, the black car waited. The driver opened the door without a word. I slid in, barely breathing.
I didn't know if this was a rescue... or the beginning of my complete destruction.
But I knew this: Chapter One of whatever Damian Vellano had planned for me was only beginning.
And I had already signed the contract that would bind us in ways I couldn't yet imagine.