Chapter 4

Damien Aldridge opened his eyes to the soft light filtering through the curtains, his head resting on the pillow that still held the faint scent of the woman from last night. He stretched, the crisp sheets falling to his chiseled torso, his abs flexing as he ran a hand through his tousled dark hair. A slow, lazy smile played on his lips as he recalled the heated passion of the night before.

But the bed beside him was empty.

He frowned, his jaw tightening as he sat up. “She’s gone,” he murmured, his deep voice low and resonant. “Who are you, mystery woman?”

He pushed himself out of bed, the muscles in his arms and shoulders shifting beneath his sun-kissed skin. Damien was every inch the man women whispered about: tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing gray eyes that could see through any lie. His full lips curved into a smirk as he recalled the feel of her soft skin under his hands, the way she had surrendered to him so sweetly.

But she had left without a trace.

Damien wasn’t the kind of man to let questions go unanswered. He dressed quickly, his movements smooth and confident as he slipped on a crisp white shirt and tailored black trousers. His reflection in the mirror showed a man of wealth and power—his dark hair falling perfectly across his forehead, a faint shadow of stubble along his strong jawline. Women fell for his looks and his dangerous charm, but right now, he had only one woman on his mind.

He picked up his phone, dialing his assistant with practiced ease. “Logan,” he said, his tone cool and commanding, “I need you to find someone.”

“Of course, sir,” Logan replied without hesitation. “Do you have any information to start with?”

“Only what I remember,” Damien said, his eyes narrowing. “She was drugged. She didn’t know what she was doing—she was so vulnerable. I need her name, her face, everything. I won’t rest until I find her.”

Logan hesitated for a moment. “Yes, sir. I’ll start the search right away.”

Damien ended the call and let out a breath, his mind already racing with possibilities. He had always respected the ancient traditions of his family—a code of honor passed down through generations. The rule was simple and unwavering: the woman he shared his bed with would be his wife. No exceptions.

He ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the heat of determination flare in his chest. He would find her. He would make this right.

He spent the next few days scouring every detail he could find. Surveillance footage from the club, witness accounts, even hotel staff who might have seen her leave. He was a man of resources and ruthless determination—no obstacle could stand in his way.

Finally, Logan entered his office, holding a sleek black tablet. “Sir, I believe I’ve found her,” he said, handing it over.

Damien’s fingers curled around the device, his pulse quickening as he saw her face. “Nia,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent. “Beautiful… but there’s a sadness in her eyes.”

“There’s more,” Logan said, his voice tense. “She’s married, sir. Or… she was.”

Damien’s jaw tensed. “Explain.”

“She was married to a man named Caleb. They’ve been together for eight years, married for two,” Logan continued. “But her husband is divorcing her—he’s thrown her out. And… sir, it appears she was framed. Her so-called best friend set her up.”

Damien’s eyes darkened, his powerful hands curling into fists. “That bastard,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And the woman she trusted… she betrayed her.”

“Yes, sir,” Logan confirmed, shifting uneasily under the billionaire’s intense gaze. “The rumors say the best friend recorded the night and showed it to her husband. She’s alone now, with no one to turn to.”

Damien let out a slow breath, his mind sharp and calculating. “Then I’ll find her. I’ll make sure she’s safe. And I’ll claim what’s mine.”

His mind went back to the night they shared. He hadn’t been able to see her clearly in the darkness, but he remembered the softness of her lips, the way she had clung to him with a desperation that had stirred something deep in his soul. He had seen her vulnerability, her confusion—and he had known then that she wasn’t there by choice.

He wouldn’t let her suffer alone. Not when he could give her the protection of his name, the security of his world.

“Logan,” he said, his tone brooking no argument, “prepare the car. I’m going to find her.”

“Of course, sir,” Logan said, bowing slightly before leaving the room.

Damien stood, his powerful form radiating authority as he moved to the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse office. The city spread out below him like a kingdom he owned, but none of it mattered compared to the woman he was about to claim.

His phone buzzed, and he answered it immediately. “Damien Aldridge.”

A quiet, respectful voice answered. “Mr. Aldridge, your family is requesting an update.”

“Tell them I have found her,” he said, his tone hard and certain. “I will uphold our tradition. She will be my wife.”

There was a pause, then a quiet reply. “Understood, sir.”

He ended the call and stared out at the skyline, his mind already racing. Nia had been wronged, humiliated, and cast aside. But she would not be alone anymore. He would find her, take her into his arms, and show her that she was not broken.

The thought of her fueled the fire in his veins. She was his now—she just didn’t know it yet.

A faint smile played at the corners of his lips, dangerous and sure. “Nia,” he whispered, his deep voice wrapping around her name like a promise. “You belong to me now.”

He turned from the window, every inch of him a predator on the hunt. And he would not rest until he had her.