Chapter 6

"M-Mr. Blackwell, I-I really..." The woman could see her situation clearly. Even if this man killed her right here and right now in front of everyone, no one would even shed a tear for her sake out of fear of him.

In desperation, she lunged forward and grabbed his leg.

Everyone was shocked. His subordinates were even more speechless.

People who knew who Damian was were aware of his mysophobia.

They silently thought: If this woman had any chance to survive before, now she has lost it too.

Yet the woman didn't know it.

"Step away." A cold voice resonated on the second floor. People's hearts jolted into their throats. Some of them wanted to secretly escape, yet none dared to move. As if they were terrified of attracting any sort of attention toward them.

The woman was terrified to the point where her sanity was ruined. She didn't listen.

"I said step away." His voice grew colder than the coldest winter. His hands tightened slightly.

The woman still didn't listen.

It happened so quickly that none of his subordinates could interfere.

Suddenly, Damian raised his hand. It appeared as if he were going to hit the woman. She shrank back on the floor. However, before his hand could strike down, another slender and delicate hand grabbed his wrist and blocked his attack.

Damian's nonchalant expression faltered for a second. A look of surprise flashed across his face. But in the next moment, the surprise faded. His gaze followed that slender hand up to its owner's face. Once his eyes landed on those fierce, rosy cheeks and dazed eyes, his calm pupils shrank slightly.

Her sharp eyes were like a pair of mystical jade that could capture one's soul. Her jawline was sharp and well-defined. Her thin, plump lips were painted red. Despite wearing minimal makeup, she was undeniably the most beautiful woman in the club that night.

"I think that's enough." Luna's voice was resolute. It resonated in the pin-drop silence. It was funny how not a single person made a sound. It was as if there were only Luna and Damian in that place. The rest didn't matter.

"Y-You insolent—" His subordinate rushed forward. But with a slight wave of his other hand—the one not held by Luna—Damian shut him up. The subordinate knew not to interfere. Stepping back, he stood silently, cautious in case his boss wanted him to teach that girl a lesson.

Damian tilted his head slightly. A corner of his lips curled up. His eyes were still cold, yet there was a hint of amusement in them. "What reason could you possibly have to suddenly come forward and hold my hand like this, little girl?"

Luna blinked. Only then did she realise she was still holding his hand. She quickly let go and stepped back.

Little girl?

He didn't look older than 25. Calling her little, was he devaluing her?

So what if she was younger? She knew what self-respect and a woman's honour meant!

Everyone was stunned by this development.

Until now, no one had ever stepped forward to intercede. People had assumed no one would either. Any sane person who knew what kind of man Damian was would stay fifty steps away from him. Even someone unaware of his identity would be kept away by his dangerous aura.

People thought: Either the girl is insane, or she's deliberately doing this to attract his attention.

"You do not have the right to abuse anyone just because you have power," Luna said firmly. Her fierce gaze held his without wavering.

That was new. No one had ever maintained eye contact with him for more than twenty seconds. Yet this girl not only didn't shy away from his cold eyes—her gaze was fierce.

With his slight smile becoming more pronounced, Damian slowly rose from his spot.

People knew that since this man—who had been calmly seated from the beginning—finally stood up, something big was about to happen.

Just after a few steps, he stopped in front of Luna.

"Little girl, this matter has nothing to do with you. If you insist on stepping into it rashly, I'm afraid you won't be stepping out of it so easily." His voice and words could freeze someone's blood. There was a clearly hidden threat in his tone.

Although she felt a heavy gloom loom over her as he approached, Luna stood her ground firmly. She didn't step back or cower.

"You assume your threat would scare me?" Luna still had alcohol in her system, numbing her caution. She spoke whatever came to mind. "Guess what? I don't want to step out of this matter either."

He could have expected the girl to tremble in fear at his warning. He could have expected her to retreat while apologising. But he couldn't have expected her stance to become even more unwavering.

"I wonder," Damian leaned closer, "do you actually feel bad for that woman..."

"What do you mean—"

"Or are you this bold because you're interested in warming my bed in her place?"

Luna was shocked speechless. She couldn't believe he would say something like this, especially in front of a hall full of people. A wave of whispers spread instantly. Damian kept his calm gaze fixed on her face, silently observing her.

"You!" Luna's hands trembled with anger. In a spur of the moment, she raised her hand—making the gravest mistake of her life.

She slapped the man in front of her. Slapped the man who had never been spoken to in a raised voice before. Slapped the man known for making those who offended him suffer in the worst ways. Slapped the man whose very name could make the hearts of seven continents shake.

That was the sort of man her drunk self offended one year ago.