CHAPTER FIVE

The towering glass windows of the Dimitri empire overlooked the entire city skyline, but inside my penthouse office, the atmosphere was thick and quiet. I stood with my hands tucked into my tailored trousers, my back to the room.

"Boss—she seemed ok when I got there," Julian reported, breaking the silence as he adjusted his suit jacket.

I didn't turn around immediately, but a slow, dark smirk spread across my face, full of amusement. The memory of her small, fragile body yielding under my immense weight was still fresh in my mind. "Seems I got myself an interesting flower," I murmured, my voice a low, gravelly baritone.

Turning around slowly, my intense gaze locked onto my assistant. "Give me every detail about her. Including pictures. Now."

Julian, well-aware of my growing impatience, didn't hesitate. He brought out his tablet, tapping the screen rapidly to open the files he had thoroughly researched the day before. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

"Boss, her name is Irene Davis. She’s twenty years old and currently a university student studying fashion design. According to background checks, she has no mother, and her father is critically ill, currently lying in the hospital. She doesn't have any siblings to lean on. To make matters worse, she has two evil uncles and a bunch of bullies for cousins who have been making her life a living hell. That’s all the solid information we have for now, sir. And... These are her pictures."

Julian handed the tablet over. I took it, my eyes immediately dropping to the screen. I found myself completely lost in her raw, unpretentious beauty. Swipe after swipe, I scanned her face.

"What is wrong with her father?" I asked, my eyes never leaving the screen.

"He has advanced cancer, sir, and needs immediate surgery if he's going to survive," Julian reported tightly.

I stopped scrolling on a specific photo. It was an old picture of her smiling brightly as a child. There was an untainted, radiant glow about her. She looked divine, like an innocent angel who had been forced to suffer through the absolute worst of mankind. The contrast between her pure smile and the dark things I had done to her hours prior tightened something inside my chest.

"Which hospital is he in?" I demanded.

Julian replied immediately, knowing the layout of the city's medical facilities by heart. "Dimitri's block branch, sir."

My smirk returned, sharper and more predatory this time. I handed the tablet back to Julian, a dark gleam in my eyes. "Seems like she is much closer to me than I thought," I mused.

Across town, the heavy wooden door of the apartment flew open the second I stepped inside. When Bella saw me standing there, my face pale and my clothes slightly disheveled, her heart filled with an overwhelming mixture of intense joy and crushing regret.

Without a word, Bella ran forward, tears instantly spilling over her lashes as she threw her arms around me, pulling me into a desperate hug.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Irene... I'm not a good friend," Bella sobbed loudly, burying her face into my shoulder, her frame shaking violently with guilt. She hugged my small frame tightly, as if trying to shield me from the reality of what had happened.

I stood there, feeling the deep, heavy exhaustion settling deep into my bones. I let out a long, tired sigh, lifting my hands to gently pat Bella’s back in a slow, rhythmic motion to calm her down.

When Bella was finally calm enough to stop shaking and able to speak properly, I took her by the arm and dragged her gently toward the living room sofa so we could sit down.

"So, tell me," I said softly, leaning back against the cushions. "Why exactly were you crying and endlessly apologizing to me the second I walked through the door?"

Bella wiped her red, swollen eyes, a fresh wave of tears threatening to fall. "I failed to help you when you needed me most, Irene. And now... now you’ve gone and lost your v-card to a complete stranger because my stupid bank check bounced..." She choked on a sob, covering her face with her hands.

I reached over, pulling Bella’s hands away to force my friend to look at me. "Oh, Bella, stop it. It’s really not your fault," I tried to convince her, my voice firm but tender. "We both knew the reality of the situation. We had absolutely no other way around this. The debt collectors were at the door, and my dad is dying. You did everything you could."

Bella sniffled, looking at me with deep admiration. "I'm sorry... you are just too good to me. Thank you for not hating me," she whispered, leaning in to hug me tightly once more.

However, the moment the heavy emotional weight lifted and Bella finally stopped crying altogether, her natural curiosity took over. She pulled back, a spark returning to her eyes, and she began to relentlessly pester me for all the vivid details of what had really happened between me and the infamous Lucian Dimitri behind closed doors.

"Come on, tell me," Bella nudged me. "What is the Devil actually like? Was he a monster?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words completely caught in my throat. I just couldn't bring myself to say a single word about it. The problem was that the more I thought about the previous night—the feeling of his large, veiny hands gripping my skin, the rough heat of his mouth, and the sheer power of his body over mine—the mere thought of it made me incredibly horny all over again. My face flushed a deep scarlet, and I could feel a familiar heat pooling between my thighs.

Panicking that Bella would read my expression, I quickly cleared my throat and abruptly changed the topic to my father’s urgent situation at the hospital. "We don't have time for this, Bella. I have the money. We need to go see the doctor right now."

The shift in focus worked. We quickly ran to our respective rooms, freshened up to presentable states, and rushed out of the apartment to catch a cab straight to the hospital. The anxiety was palpable, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a sliver of hope warming my chest.

When we arrived at the grand, pristine medical plaza, I didn't waste a single second wandering the halls. I walked with purposeful steps straight down the sterile corridor, heading directly to the private office of the chief doctor who was in charge of my father's oncology case.

I knocked twice on the heavy frosted-glass door, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Come in," a calm, professional voice responded from the other side.

I pushed the door open, stepping inside with Bella right at my heels. We walked right up to the desk and sat down on the leather chairs even before the doctor could formally ask us to take a seat, our urgency clear.

"Irene, welcome," Dr. Holland greeted me, looking up from his medical charts with a warm, reassuring smile. He was a strikingly handsome man in his mid-thirties, always immaculately put together and remarkably polite. His kind demeanor and genuine care for his patients were the primary reasons I liked and trusted him so deeply with my father's life.

I couldn't contain my excitement any longer. Leaning forward, I placed my bag firmly on the desk. "Mr. Holland, I have brought the money. The full amount for the surgery," I announced happily, my eyes shining with relief.

I waited for him to smile, to call the surgical team, to give me the schedule. But instead, Dr. Holland froze. A deeply confused, puzzled expression washed over his handsome features, replacing his warmth with absolute uncertainty. His reaction sent an immediate chill down my spine, making my own expression twist into confusion as well.

Dr. Holland looked at me closely, lowering his pen. "Don't you know?" he asked me softly, his voice laced with genuine bewilderment.

My breath hitched. I looked to my side at Bella, who was staring back at me with a completely confused and worried expression.

Turning my gaze slowly back to the doctor, I felt my hands begin to tremble. "Know... know what, Mr. Holland?”