~Bianca's POV~
Cecelia's mouth opened and closed back and forth like a fish. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were wide lost in their fury as she wagged her finger back and forth. Her lips trembled in anger as she kept pointing at me, "You—" she stammered and panted, her entire body shaking. Then I snapped out of it, my eyes widened, “Shit! I had lost control of my emotions.” I muttered to myself. I took in a deep breath and tried to calm myself. “I needed to remain calm. I couldn't let them be suspicious of any big change. I couldn't screw this up before we even began.” I muttered to myself as I talked my senses into myself. My eyes closed, and I breathed slowly. I clenched my fists then released them slowly again, and when I opened my eyes the next moment, they were clear of any rage and what remained was Coldness and indifference. I looked at my mother-in-law whose temper wavered in an instant. She was tense and watched me starry-eyed. I rubbed my face and breathed softly, then I leaned my head forward a little. "I am sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to be rude. I just had a nightmare." She raised an eyebrow. "Nightmare?" I bit my lips and clenched my fist "Yes," I breathed, shivering. "It was… horrible." I did not allow her to speak before I turned and walked towards the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me. I couldn't stand looking at that face anymore, I worried that I would lose control again and bash her head which I knew I couldn't do, at least not now. I stood with arms leaning on the sink rims with fists clenched as I glared at myself in the mirror. My face was pale and puffy and I could see the red lines in my eyes, I stared at my face which had always been pampered but now looked tired. But the most important thing is that I’m back! God had given me a second chance, a second chance to do better, a second chance to make things right and give back the pain I had received, and I wasn't going to waste it. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remember everything that had transpired before I died. But the memories remain blurry and I could not remember much. But I know at this time, that bastard, Nathan hadn't faked his death yet so I still had time to prepare. But I wish God had brought me back to the time before Father had passed away, I would have saved him and apologized for disobeying him when he had warned me not to marry Nathan but my disobedience had caused his death. “Father…” I whispered with pain then I exhaled a breath and messed up my hair. No. I was not going to allow myself to give in to grieving now. I had too much to accomplish. I came out of the bathroom with a calm face, then walked to the bedside table and I took the tiny bottle of medicine, but what was in it was not medicine but—Poison. Nathan had been poisoning me, and I had been swallowing it like an idiot. I whirled on my heel and then I was standing back in the toilet. And without wasting time, I dumped the pills into the toilet and watched as the little fatal pills revolved in the water. I felt relieved. And then I flushed. I leaned back and saw the poison going down and then it's Vanished before my eyes. I sighed in relief, “Problem one gone.” “Now, What's next?” I asked myself then my eyes lit up., I required a doctor. One that I could trust, and the only person I could think of— My Fists clenched around my phone as I scrolled through my contact list, my finger hovered on the contact…Dr. Emily Carter. She had been employed by my dad for years and She was also a friend of the family. If anyone could help me, it would be her. I didn't even hesitate before I pressed the call button. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then— "Bianca?" A voice that I recognized sounded shocked. "I. I don't believe this! Why are you calling me?" She said in disbelief. I swallowed hard, gritting my teeth to keep my tone level. "Dr. Emily, I would like to see you… In private?" I said. There was silence at the other end of the phone and I had to clench my phone tightly as I felt fear. Then she spat. "As it happens, I did have a word to say to you too. There is something you have to be told." Her voice sounded heavy which made me curious. I nodded even when I knew she couldn't see me, "Tomorrow," I said, then continued after thinking for a while, "We'll get it sorted out tomorrow." "Alright," she said, "Tomorrow then." The call was hung up. I just sat there staring at the phone as I spaced out for a little while. I knew I couldn't fight this alone, because I knew Nathan had already begun his preparation and he would have gone too far into it and it was not just now he started. I knew I couldn't do that myself, so I needed someone hard, someone who was powerful enough to help me, but who could I collaborate with? My breathing immediately seized as I thought of only one person—Damien Sinclair! The man who I had a night with and became a nightmare, the man who I would never forget no matter how much I tried to…. But, He hates me so much, right? Can Damien help me?…~Bianca's POV~The cuffs dug into my wrists, metal pressing against my skin, blood ebbing slowly. My legs trembled where they were bound, spread wide, muscles cramping from both the heels and the position. My chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.I was helpless. Bare. Burning.Damien stood a few feet away, his shirt discarded, exposing inked muscle and arrogance carved into every inch of him. His gaze devoured me—slow, possessive, devastating. No longer the cold, calculating monster in a tailored suit.He was something else now, and I was his offering.He came forward without a word, his palm dragging up the inside of my thigh—teasing, claiming, spreading the slick already glistening there.A whimper escaped my lips, small and broken, but he didn't speak, his silence was its own form of cruelty."You ache," he murmured. "I can smell it."My throat seized as his fingers trailed downward—between the curves of my breasts, along the dip of my waist, until they hovered over the soaked str
Chapter 15: You Are Mine.~Bianca's POV~The room looked like a velvet-covered nightmare.Dark red walls flickered with shadows, and chains shone under the warm lights, sharp and ready. Leather straps hung in neat lines—some thick, some thin—each one hinting at pain or control. A large X-Cross stood at the far wall with straps at each each, surrounded by shelves filled with gags, ropes, cuffs, and clamps, all laid out like they belonged in a shrine to power and submission.It carried the scent of leather and musk. Of power and sin.A red room.Every inch dared me to kneel.My heels sank into a plush carpet, and my chest tightened. This wasn't just a space—it was an invitation and a warning, a place built to strip you down, body and soul.Then I saw Damien standing by a tall mirror, no longer in a suit but in a white shirt, half unbuttoned to reveal golden skin and the sharp cut of his chest. Dark pants clung to his hips, and he was barefoot, at ease.Dangerous. He looked like he belon
~Bianca's POV~The silence in the car had teeth.For five whole minutes, Damien sat across from me, legs crossed, phone in hand, eyes glued to the screen like I wasn't even there. Like he hadn't just detonated my entire life and walked away without a scratch.The air felt thick, not just with tension but with velvet-wrapped control. Power hummed from the leather seats, the dark panels, and the unopened champagne nestled in the console. Every inch of the vehicle whispered: Obey.I didn't move, my jaw locked and shoulders squared, as my gaze lingered on the details, but all I could feel was the pressure building inside me.Then finally, I broke the silence."So now that you've gotten what you wanted… do I get what I asked for?"His thumb paused mid-scroll, and he slowly lowered the phone, eyes lifting to meet mine. A flicker of amusement danced at the corner of his mouth. "Which is?"I clenched my fists. "What I said this morning. At your company. Don't pretend you don't remember."He t
~Damien's POV~I haven't felt this alive in years.Not even when Herman shipped me off to Europe, convinced that military-grade discipline could burn the fire out of me. The cold showers, the brutal drills, and the endless boardroom simulations. All of it meant to scrub away the rage and shape me into something useful.It worked for a while until I saw Bianca Calloway again, and every buried ember roared back to life. First, at the cemetery, where she started rambling—regret, wrong choices, sorrow pouring out like a confession no one asked for. I dropped her off and drove away. I should've left it at that, buried the past, like everyone always says.But then she walked into my meeting.Begging.Asking for help to bring down her husband using my company—my resources. She said Nathan was responsible for her father's death. That he'd ruined everything.That's when it stopped being coincidence.This was opportunity.What were the odds that I'd come back to New York and run into the woman
~Bianca's POV~His breath ghosted across my cheek—warm, steady, and far too intentional.I couldn't move with my back pinned to the marble, Damien's body boxing me in like a wall I couldn't climb. My heart thundered against my ribs, every instinct screaming to run, yet my body refused to obey."What… what are you doing?" I finally asked, my voice more breath than sound.He arched a brow like the question was amusing. "What do you think I'm doing?" he murmured dangerously. "Didn't you offer yourself to me this morning like a common slut?"The word sliced through me, making me flinch. Heat and shame collided inside me, but I forced my chin up. "I did what I had to do," I snapped, "don't mistake that for interest." I shoved at his chest but he didn't budge. "And I haven't agreed to anything yet, so you have no right to corner me like this. Especially at a dinner hosted by my husband."That word—husband—tasted sour.Damien didn't move one bit. He just stared down at me, studying me like a
~Bianca's POV~The chandelier lights shined across the glossy marble floors, painting a soft golden glow over the living room-turned-dining-hall. At the top of the staircase, I stood with my arm threaded through Nathan's. My royal blue silk dress hugged every curve, the fabric whispering elegance and control.Cameras flashed. The press lined the entrance like vultures in designer suits, hungry for scandal. Below, laughter rose and fell over the clinking of glasses.Nathan leaned in, his voice smooth with performative affection. "Smile, darling."I did. Or something close enough.The MC's voice boomed over the soft classical music. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome tonight's gracious hosts—Nathan and Bianca Hayes!"Polite applause erupted as we descended the staircase with poised steps—he, the polished businessman; me, the picture-perfect wife. But only one of us knew the truth behind the mask.The dining table stretched long, dressed in gold-rimmed china, crystal goblets, and silv
~Bianca's POV~I watched him as his eyes opened slowly, and for the briefest second, disbelief cracked through the cold mask he always wore. He neither blinked nor said a word.And I—I had no idea what the hell just came out of my mouth.'I'll give you me.'The words had escaped before I could weigh them. Desperation had hurled them forward. There wasn't time for pride, not with Nathan tightening his leash and watching my every move. Somewhere, buried in the fractured haze of my past life, I remembered this: I'd asked Damien for help before.And he said yes.For one night.And that night?It was the only time I'd ever felt something when someone touched me. Something real. Something alive.Maybe this would be the same. Just one night. A trade. A favor.Worth it."...What did you say?" Damien's voice came low and dangerous.I swallowed. "I said I'll be yours. You can have me. Just help me."Silence fell between us before he suddenly laughed. Loud. Unhinged.The sound tore through the
~Damien's POV~"It's good to have you back, Damien," said Greg, the CFO, nodding stiffly, like expressing any emotion physically pained him.A quiet murmur of agreement followed around the boardroom."That's true," Levinson, Head of Legal, added. "We haven't seen you in years. And now, with Mr. Herman gone… the company needs a figurehead. A real one."That name.Herman.The room might as well have gone silent. I felt the immediate twist, right in my chest.The man who saved me from the edge. Literally. I'd been seventeen and seconds from throwing myself off a bridge when he found me—ripped me back from the ledge, not with kindness, but with brutal honesty that cut deeper than any knife."You want to die over a girl who laughed at you? Pathetic."He didn't sugarcoat things. He didn't offer comfort. He offered purpose. And I took it.Now he was gone. Dead. Buried. And with him, the only man who ever gave a damn when it mattered.Not even Bianca had.Especially not her.My eyes swept acr
~Bianca's POV~Silence.I stared at Dr. Emily, my mouth opening and closing as if I had forgotten how to speak. Then, I burst into laughter."Good one, doc!" I wiped tears from my eyes. "You had me there for a sec."But then I noticed that Dr. Emily's gaze didn't mirror amusement. There was something darker in it. A shadow of guilt. Her face remained solemn, regret evident in her eyes."What?" I leaped to my feet, the chair scraping loudly behind me. I wasn't sure if I was shaking with anger or disbelief. "What the hell do you mean I don't have cancer? Are you telling me that all these years—everything I've lived through—it's all been a lie?"Dr. Emily flinched at my outburst, but she didn't retreat. She remained calm, a quiet sorrow in her eyes."Bianca," she began softly, "Please, just let me explain."My pulse hammered in my ears, and I paced the small office, unable to process the sheer scale of the betrayal. "Explain? You just told me my entire life was based on a lie! How the he