Chapter Five — Veins of Betrayal

Elara's POV

Victor's voice sliced through the thick air of the pool house, making my blood run cold. "Damien? You out here?"

I froze against Damien, his hand still on my neck, thumb pressing my pulse like he owned it. His body tensed, shielding me in the shadows behind the lounge chair. The door swung wider, spilling more light from the house. My heart slammed so hard I thought it would give us away. 

If Victor saw us like this—lips swollen from that slow, teasing kiss, my tank top clinging to sweat-slicked skin—he'd know. The forbidden heat between us, the way Damien's hardness had ground against me moments ago, promising dirty claims. Dread choked me; this could end everything.

Damien's grip tightened, silent warning. He stepped forward casual, blocking Victor's view of me. "Yeah, Dad. Just needed some air. Couldn't sleep."

Victor's silhouette loomed in the doorway, eyes scanning the dim space. "Heard noises. Thought maybe an animal got in." He paused, voice dropping low. "Or someone snooping."

My breath caught. Snooping? Like me in Damien's room earlier, spotting that file on rival syndicates and leverage. Was Victor paranoid about his secrets? The ones Damien hinted at—debts, dirt that could burn the family down.

Damien chuckled easy, but I heard the edge. "Nah, just me. Jet lag's a bitch. Want a drink?"

Victor hesitated, then shook his head. "No. Get some rest. Big day tomorrow at the office. We need to talk about those old accounts." His tone carried weight, like a threat wrapped in fatherly advice.

"Will do." Damien's voice stayed cool, but his shoulders stayed rigid until Victor backed out, door clicking shut. Silence fell heavy, broken only by the soft lap of pool water outside.

I exhaled shaky, stepping out from the shadows. "That was close. What the hell, Damien? If he caught us—"

He turned fast, pinning me against the wall again, body flush with mine. "He didn't." His hand slid down my side, fingers tracing the curve of my hip slow, deliberate. 

Heat bloomed where he touched, that slow burn reigniting despite the fear. "But you like the risk, don't you? Gets you wet."

I shoved at his chest, but my hands lingered on the hard muscle, feeling his heart race like mine. "Stop. This isn't a game. That file—what are you really here for? Debts? Syndicates? You're using Victor's dirt against him?"

His gray eyes darkened, hand pausing on my thigh. He leaned in close, lips brushing my ear. "Smart girl. Victor's buried deep in bad deals. Laundering money through the company, ties to rivals who'd love to take him down." His fingers inched higher, under my leggings, teasing the edge of my panties. "I'm here to expose it. Or exploit it. Depends."

Dread twisted in my gut, but his touch sent sparks lower, making my core clench. "Exploit? For what? Power? Money?"

He pulled back slightly, searching my face. Slow dialogue hung between us, tension thick as fog. "Revenge. 

He shipped me abroad after Mom died, like I was trash. Left me to rot while he built this empire on lies." His voice roughened, vulnerability flashing rare. 

"Now I take what's his. The business. The control." His hand cupped me through the fabric, rubbing slow circles over my clit. Pleasure hit soft, building gradual. "And you."

I gasped, hips bucking involuntary. "Me? I'm not yours." But my body lied, wetness soaking through as his fingers pressed firmer, teasing entry. Emotions warred: pity for his pain, fear of the betrayal brewing, filthy want for this dark man who'd stolen my innocence and now claimed my soul.

"You are." He kissed my neck slow, teeth grazing the mark he'd left before. "That night in the lounge—your first time, tight and begging. Mine from the start." His free hand yanked my tank down, exposing my breast, thumb circling the nipple hard. I moaned low, the slow burn turning to fire. "Say it, Elara. You're mine."

"No," I whispered, bold but breaking. His fingers slipped inside my panties now, one dipping into my heat, curling slow. Ecstasy built torturous, my walls fluttering around him. Dark romance coded in every touch—possession, pain, passion.

He added another finger, pumping lazy, thumb on my clit. "Deny it all you want. Your pussy weeps for your stepbrother." He ground his hardness against my thigh, thick and ready, promising more. "I'll fuck you right here, fill you deep like before. Make you scream my name."

I clawed his back, chasing the edge, but he slowed, edging me cruelly. "Please," I begged, hating the need in my voice.

He smirked dark, pulling his hand free slick with me. Brought fingers to my lips. "Taste yourself. See how bad you want this."

I sucked them clean, salty and shameful, eyes locked on his. The plot drove forward in my mind—his revenge could destroy Mom, the life we'd built. But here, in this moment, I craved the ruin.

"Tell me," he growled, unzipping his pants slow, freeing his cock—thick, veined, dripping pre-cum. He stroked it lazy, rubbing the tip against my leggings. "Who owns this virgin cunt now?"

"You," I breathed, breaking. "You do."

He groaned, pushing my leggings down, lifting my leg around his waist. The tip nudged my entrance, teasing slow entry. "Good girl. Now take your stepbrother's cock."

But a phone buzzed—his, on the chair. He cursed, glancing at the screen. Face hardened. "Fuck." He cursed.

"What?" I panted, still throbbing empty.

He pulled away, tucking himself in quick. "Business. That syndicate contact. They know I'm digging."

Fear spiked real now. "What does that mean?"

His eyes met mine, cold promise. "It means war's coming. And you're in it with me." He kissed me hard, then whispered, "But first, tell me—do you trust me?"

The question hung, driving the betrayal deeper. Trust him? The man ruining us?

"I..."

A crash outside—glass breaking? Voices? Victor's shout from the house.

Damien tensed. "Stay here." He slipped out, leaving me exposed, heart racing.

But then his phone lit up again, message flashing: "We have proof on the girl too. Back off, or she pays."

Proof on me? What girl? Me?

The door burst open, a shadow figure—not Victor. 

"Damien Blackwood? We need to talk."

My scream caught in my throat.

"Who the fuck are you?" Damien's voice boomed from outside.

The stranger turned, gun glinting in the light. 

"The end of your family."