Chapter 2

Clark's voice came through the phone, tinged with urgent concern.

"Baby? What's wrong?"

Nyla closed her eyes. That familiar "Baby" once made her heart race. Now it made her sick. She could hear subtle noises in the background—the rustle of sheets, a woman's suppressed breathing.

"Yeah, I... my stomach really hurts," Nyla forced her voice to sound weak. "Could you come home? I'm scared it might be something serious."

"Oh honey, that sounds awful," Clark's voice was full of fake sympathy. But Nyla could hear him holding something back. "But I'm stuck at the office with this merger deal. You know how important this is for the company."

Nyla's lips curved into a cold smile. Even now, he was still lying.

Meanwhile, Clark stared at Jordyn on the bed. She lay there with her legs spread wide, her body exposed and inviting. She crawled toward him slowly.

Her lips parted as she leaned in to lick his hard cock, her tongue tracing slow circles around the tip.

Clark's breath grew ragged. Lust burned hotter in his eyes. He couldn't wait any longer.

"I really don't think I can leave right now, sweetheart," Clark continued, his voice edged with growing urgency. "Why don't you take some Tylenol? I'll be home first thing in the morning, I promise."

"Actually, you know what?" Nyla's voice suddenly became calm. The weakness vanished. "Never mind. I'm feeling better now."

Clark seemed relieved. "Really? That's great. I love you, babe. Take care of yourself, especially during this trying period. We need to keep you healthy for the baby, remember?"

Nyla's voice showed no emotion. "Goodbye, Clark."

She hung up and took a deep breath. She started the car. The wipers swept back and forth on the windshield, like they were wiping away her eight years of blind love.

At the same time, in the villa bedroom, Clark tossed his phone onto the nightstand. Jordyn wrapped around him like a snake. Her long fingers drew circles on his chest.

"She actually bought that?" Jordyn's tone was full of mockery. "'Important meeting' at 4 AM? How naive can she get?"

Clark pulled her waist closer. He left a kiss mark on her neck. "What do you expect? She's so desperate for my attention, she'll believe anything I tell her. In a few days, once she cools off, she'll come crawling back to cook for me and prep for pregnancy."

Jordyn bit her lip. Satisfaction flashed in her eyes. "You're terrible, you know that?"

"And you love it," Clark said as he flipped over and pinned her down. "Now, where were we?"

Nyla got home and wiped away her tears. She wanted a divorce. She called her best friend right away.

"Valarie, help me find Clark's uncle Damon Summer's schedule."

Since Clark wanted to use her, she'd show him what being used felt like.

She had never been a helpless victim. Love had just blinded her eyes. It made her willing to lower herself.

But now, the game rules were changing.

One hour later, Nyla appeared at Velvet, the most luxurious bar downtown. She had changed into a black slip dress. The low-cut design showed off her figure perfectly. Her long hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall.

She sat at the bar and ordered a martini. Her eyes kept glancing at the VIP booth area. Damon sat there with several suited business partners. They held whiskey and talked about something.

As Clark's uncle, Damon was the most successful and dangerous man she had ever seen. He refused the Summer Group inheritance. He built his own business empire, five times larger than Summer Group.

Clark both envied and feared this uncle. Three years ago, Clark badmouthed him. Damon refused to cooperate with Summer Group. It cost them hundreds of millions of dollars.

She looked at Damon's face and felt a bit dazed. He was extremely handsome, with chiseled features and piercing blue eyes that could cut through steel.

His body was perfect—broad shoulders, rock-hard muscles that strained against his tailored shirt, revealing a V-shaped torso honed from years of discipline. His presence radiated raw power, a magnetic charisma that made everyone in the room aware of him, like a predator in command.

"Could you help me with something?" Nyla smiled sweetly at the bartender. She deliberately lowered her voice to make it sound more sexy. "I need some... entertainment for the night."

She raised her voice on purpose. Her clear laughter stood out over the music.

In less than ten minutes, several model-like young men surrounded her. Nyla giggled flirtatiously and raised her glass. She let her strap slip down an inch on purpose. The crystal chandelier's light scattered like glittering stars on her delicate collarbone.

She watched Damon from the corner of her eye. Sure enough, the noise caught his attention. He started walking over.

Half an hour later, Nyla deliberately stumbled. She fell into his arms. Her fingertips brushed lightly over his firm abs under his suit.

"Sir... would you like to have a drink together?" Her tone had drunkenness and seduction.

Damon's voice was low and dangerous. He waved the male models away. Then he gripped her chin with his other hand, forcing her to look at him.

"Nyla Jayston," his blue eyes flashed with danger. "Know your place and look carefully at who I am."

Nyla didn't struggle. Instead, she hooked her arms around his neck. Her voice carried that same drunken seduction.

"Of course I know... Uncle Damon."

That title made Damon's gaze even deeper. But Nyla didn't back down. She knew she was playing with fire. But she had nothing left to lose.

"Clark betrayed me," her voice suddenly became clear. The drunken look faded from her eyes instantly. "Jordyn even dared to provoke me right to my face."

She picked up her glass and drank it all. "You remember last year when my mother was hospitalized? I begged Clark to help contact specialists. He said hospital rules made it hard to interfere. But when Jordyn's father just had a cold, he contacted the hospital director the next day."

The glass hit the bar hard. It made a crisp sound. "Today's encounter isn't coincidence. I want you to know that your perfect nephew has been treating our marriage like waste paper for a long time."

She paused. She looked straight into Damon's eyes. "I want a divorce. But Clark won't let go easily. So... I need your help."

Half an hour later, they walked into the presidential suite of a five-star hotel. The door clicked shut behind them.

Damon turned to Nyla, his massive frame towering over her. His handsome face was etched with that dangerous allure, blue eyes burning with intensity.

He shrugged off his suit jacket, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest and arms—hard, defined pecs and biceps that flexed with every movement, a testament to his raw, masculine power.

Nyla felt her pulse quicken. She stepped closer, her hands tracing the ridges of his abs through his shirt. "Uncle Damon," she whispered. "I've always wondered what it would be like... to have a real man like you. Not some boy like Clark."

Nyla pressed on, leaning in to kiss him deeply, her lips claiming his with bold hunger. Her hands roamed teasingly over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt to expose more of his chiseled torso, fingers dancing along the firm lines of his muscles.

Damon inhaled sharply, a cool gasp escaping him. "Don't regret this, little niece," he warned, his voice low and rough. Then, restraint shattered—he shifted from passive to active, his strong hands exploring her body with expert skill.

He caressed her curves, thumbs brushing her sensitive spots with precise, teasing strokes that sent shivers through her. Nyla's breath caught; heat built rapidly between her legs, her body responding with overwhelming arousal. She felt herself growing completely wet, her core aching and slick under his touch.

His fingers slipped into her panties, and he chuckled low.