Chapter 15.

Laura's POV.

Morning light spilled across the cold marble tiles of the kitchen.

I stood by the counter, waiting for the coffee machine to hum to life. My body was still heavy with sleep, but my mind was already racing.

I couldn't stop thinking about last night.

I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was right back on that cold mahogany desk in his study. I could still feel the weight of his body pressing against mine, his dark gaze burning into me, expecting me to bow. Expecting me to submit like I always did.

“You think you can play dress-up at a college party, drink with boys, and come back to me smelling like another life?”

His voice had been so dark, so heavy with control. But yesterday was different.

Yesterday, I didn't tremble. I didn't back down.

I remembered the exact moment I grabbed the lapels of his jacket. I remembered pulling him down, forcing him into my space, and whispering those words right against his mouth.

“Then maybe you should stop acting like you're the one in control.”

A slow breath escaped my lips as I stared at the dark coffee dripping into the pot.

He was shocked. For the very first time, the untouchable Damian Steel was completely caught off guard. His pupils had widened, his breath catching in his throat, his expression taking some seconds before returning to normal.

I had turned the tables on him, and the memory made a strange heat flutter in my chest.

"Thinking about me, Little one?"

A deep, smooth voice echoed right behind my shoulder.

I gasped, jumping back so fast my back hit the edge of the counter. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Damian was standing right there. A cup in his hand.

He looked devastatingly sharp, already dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his dark hair neatly styled.

A faint, dangerous smirk touched the corner of his lips as he took a step closer, completely ignoring the personal space between us.

"What... what are you doing here?" I stumbled over my words, my voice barely a whisper.

He didn't answer. My eyes quickly darted to the entrance of the kitchen, knowing someone can enter any moment from now.

Instead, his hand shot out, cupping the back of my neck. Before I could process what was happening, he pulled me in and pressed his lips firmly against mine.

The kiss was hard, hungry, and possessive, it seemed like a silent reminder of who held the upper hand.

Panic surged through me. My mind scrambled back to reality, to the fact that this was his house, but Brenda could walk in at any second, a staff could walk in.

I placed both hands against his broad chest and pushed him away with all the strength I had.

"Damian, stop!" I breathed out, my eyes wide with fear, my chest heaving. "Are you crazy? Someone could see us!"

He didn't move an inch back, his eyes dark and piercing as he stared down at me. We stood there, caught in a breathless, suffocating silence, the air thick with tension. I stepped away from him.

"Good morning, Dad!"

Brenda’s bright voice shattered the heavy air like glass. She seemed to have gotten over her sadness of last night, that was Brenda for you.

I froze, I held on to the side of my maxi jean skirt, my blood running cold as Brenda breezed into the kitchen, wearing a sleek outfit and checking her phone. She didn't even notice the sharp, dangerous energy vibration between Damian and me.

Damian’s expression shifted instantly back to his cold, distant mask. He turned smoothly toward his daughter.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he murmured. He leaned down and pressed a quiet kiss onto Brenda’s forehead.

She drinks the glass of juice I had poured for her.

"Laura, come on, we are going to be late!" Brenda said, grabbing an apple from the island and grabbing my arm. "Let’s go!"

I couldn't even speak. I just nodded nervously, avoiding Damian’s gaze as Brenda dragged me out toward the driveway.

During the drive, I was painfully silent, but Brenda's chatter about the social media world made up for my silence.

My mind kept racing throughout the car ride.

Twenty minutes later, Brenda’s sleek sports car pulled into the main campus parking lot.

Students were going about doing their activities of the day, either chatting or walking in groups under the bright morning sun.

Suddenly, a loud, deep roar tore through the air.

It was the powerful, unmistakable rumble of a heavy engine. Everyone turned their heads as a stunning, midnight-black sportbike rounded the corner, cutting through the parking lanes with effortless precision.

Richard.

He looked lethal in a black leather jacket, leaning into the turn as he slowed down near the main walkway.

Beside me, I turned to see the expression on Brenda's face, but I saw Brenda’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. Her eyes locked onto the bike, and a wicked, satisfied smirk spread across her face.

"Brenda, what are you…" I was alarmed, I felt she was up to no good. Before I could finish my sentence, Brenda slammed her foot down on the gas pedal.

The next thing I heard was the sounds of engine revving and tires screeching

"Brenda, stop!" I screamed, clutching the dashboard.

CRASH!

The front bumper of Brenda’s car slammed right into the side of the sportbike.

The impact sent the heavy motorcycle sliding across the floor and, tossing Richard straight onto the floor.

My mouth fell wide open. I was in absolute shock, my hands shaking against my seatbelt.

It turned to look at Brenda who was grinning with an angry and shocked expression on my face.

“Are you insane?” I growled angrily.

Outwardly, the whole parking lot went silent, then immediately erupted into loud gasps. People started running toward the scene.

Brenda instantly adjusted her face into a picture of pure, helpless panic.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my god!" she gasped loudly, opening her car door and stepping out with wide, innocent eyes. "Did I just hit someone?!"

She rushed around the hood of the car, acting completely frantic. I glared at her, while coming out of the car, I was going to give her an ear full, if we leave her in peace.

Richard was already pushing himself up off the ground with someone helping him up, a low curse escaping his lips. His leather jacket was scuffed, and his jaw was clenched tight.

I scrambled out of the car, my heart in my throat. A guy nearby rushed over with me, and together we helped hold the heavy bike up while Richard pushed himself up onto his feet.

"Are you okay?" I asked hurriedly, checking for injuries.

Richard brushed the dirt off his sleeve, his breathing heavy as he looked up.

That was when Brenda stepped closer.

While the crowd around them was fretting and whispering, Brenda caught Richard’s eye. The frantic, innocent act vanished from her face for a single split second, replaced by a subtle, razor-sharp grin directly meant for him.

Richard froze. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and in that instant, he realized the truth.

It wasn't an accident. She had done it on purpose.

Before Richard could say a word, a tall guy holding a huge bouquet of fresh red roses pushed through the crowd toward Brenda.

"Brenda! Are you alright? I saw what happened!" the guy said anxiously, thrusting the flowers toward her.

Brenda smiled sweetly at the guy, taking the bouquet without looking at it. She casually turned her gaze back to Richard, who was still standing by his damaged bike, staring at her as if he couldn't wait to strangle her.

"I'm totally fine," Brenda said, her voice dripping with sweet poison as she raised her voice just enough for Richard to hear.

"Just a minor bump. Some things on this campus just take up way too much space."

She turned on her heel, cradling the flowers in her arm.

"Come on, Laura," she said smoothly, linking her arm through mine and walking away toward the main building.

Behind us, Richard didn't move. He stood next to his almost ruined motorcycle, his intense gaze burning into the back of Brenda’s head as she walked away, turning back over her shoulder. She flicked her hair at him, before turning away never to look back at him.