Arabella was in front of the mirror, staring at her own green eyes with boredom and discomfort. She patted her face with a napkin, feeling physically and mentally exhausted. Mason had always been a calculative person - he had always brought her along whenever he needed to attend such important events.
Honestly if the Collins family did not need Mason and his financial support, she would not give a piece of mind to those men who had always given her dirty looks. But for now, she must bear it all.
After taking a moment to freshen up, Arabella emerged from the bathroom, feeling a renewed sense of composure. As she stepped into the corridor, her eyes fell upon a man standing with his back against the wall.
She froze in place. He wasn't like the other men in the hall (vultures and repulsive, leering at her shamelessly). He was naturally sexy and attractive.
His posture, though relaxed, held a certain disarming quality that intrigued Arabella. His mere presence exuded a captivating aura, drawing her attention like a magnet. For a brief moment, time seemed to pause as she took in his features, her curiosity piqued.
With cautious steps, she approached him, her eyes fixed upon his form. The corridor seemed to narrow, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as their paths converged.
There was a spark of recognition in Arabella's eyes, a glimmer of familiarity that she could not quite place. As she drew nearer, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension danced within her heart.
Arabella's thoughts raced, her mind searching for answers to the questions swirling within her.
Who was this man?
Why did he look more familiar than he should?
Step by step, she closed the distance between them, her curiosity overshadowing any hesitation. Arabella's heart thudded in her chest.
When she passed by the man, he grabbed her arm.
"Do not you recognize me?" the man's voice oozed with a hint of intrigue, his words laced with a magnetic allure that sent a shiver down Arabella's spine.
Her eyes locked onto his captivating gaze, drawn deeper into his presence.
As Arabella allowed her gaze to sweep over the man's figure, a surge of desire coursed through her veins. Every feature of his face exuded a sensual magnetism, from his chiseled jawline to his piercing eyes.
If she had encountered him before, she knew without a doubt that his stunning visage would have been etched into her memory.
"I am sorry, sir," she finally responded, "I am afraid you've mistaken me for someone else."
The man's own smile deepened, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of intrigue and amusement. His charm seemed to radiate from every pore.
"Oh... is that so?" he murmured, his voice a velvet caress that sent a shiver down her spine. With a firm grip, he pulled Arabella closer and pressed her against the wall, their bodies igniting with a magnetic intensity. "What about this? Do you remember me now?"
The man was emitting a dangerous aura, sending shivers through Arabella Collins's body. His presence commanded attention, exuding an irresistible blend of mystery and allure.
Every fiber of Arabella's being recognized the danger that emanated from this enigmatic stranger. His mere presence sent tremors of both fear and excitement coursing through her veins. It was as if his very essence carried a warning, a silent reminder of the unpredictable path that lay ahead.
The intensity of his gaze, piercing and filled with untamed desire, stirred a potent mixture of apprehension and longing within Arabella. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.
As his eyes locked onto hers, Arabella found herself transfixed, unable to tear her gaze away. The weight of his dangerous aura sent shivers down her spine, awakening a dormant hunger within her.
"Let go of me!"
"You are asking me to let go of you? Were not you the one who took the initiative that night?" Damon Banks's words struck her like a bolt of lightning.
That night?
She took another good look. The man standing in front of her looked like a model - stunningly handsome features with a strong. muscular build and an innate noble temperament. He looked completely different from the man who was covered in blood that night.
"What are you talking about? I do not know what you are talking about."
"Woman..." Damon gently pinched Arabella's chin. "There is not a woman in this world who dares to defy me." As the words left Damon's lips, a charged silence hung in the air, heavy with anticipation.
Time seemed to slow down as he delicately lowered his head, his eyes locked with Arabella's, and their breaths intermingled in the space between them.
With a feather-light touch, Damon's lips met Arabella's in a possessive kiss. It was a collision of desire and longing, a dance of fire and silk that set their senses ablaze. In that wild moment, the world around them faded into insignificance as they succumbed to the raw intensity of their connection.
Arabella's body responded instinctively to the sensuous touch of Damon's lips, the warmth of his kiss awakening a cascade of sensations within her. Every nerve ending tingled with a mix of pleasure and vulnerability.
Their lips danced together, exploring and surrendering to the intoxicating rhythm of their shared passion. The kiss carried a blend of fervor and tenderness, an intimate connection that transcended words.
Damon took control, his kiss carrying an undercurrent of dominance. It was a testament to the fierce attraction between them, a fusion of power and surrender. Just like that night, he was in control and his kiss carried a certain tinge of vengeance.
Arabella's heart trembled.
'Is this man really him?'
'But I thought he was just a delinquent roaming in that part of town? How could he be this man standing in front of me now?’
Their lips clashed against each other's, one fighting the other for dominance.
The woman's sweet breath made Damon recall the night they spent together. He felt a tightness in his lower body and he subconsciously leaned closer to her.
Damon, consumed by a magnetic force, led Arabella with a sense of urgency, their lips remaining locked in a fiery embrace.
As they stepped into the bathroom, the door closed behind them, sealing them away from the outside world. The click of the latch echoed the intensity of their connection, amplifying the electrifying tension that charged the air.
Damon, unable to resist the temptation that engulfed them, continued to explore Arabella's lips with an unrestrained fervor. The passionate exchange of their kisses spoke volumes, conveying a depth of longing and a hunger that could no longer be contained.
Arabella was shocked by his gesture and tried to push him away, "What are you trying to do?"
The warm, steam-filled atmosphere heightened their senses, intensifying the sensations that coursed through their bodies.
"You took advantage of me that night... And now it is my turn."
In the private confines of the bathroom, their passion grew, their bodies pressed against each other as they explored the depths of their desire.
"Wait... No!" Arabella cried out in shock. "I..."
Before she could finish her sentence, Damon crashed his lips against hers again.
Unlike before, Damon was even more enthusiastic this time. Arabella was helpless against his firm grasp and soon she felt her butt pressing against the sink in the bathroom as she staggered backwards. He lifted her dress as he leaned his hip forward.
As she trembled next to him, he whispered into her ear aggressively, "Remember my name. I am Damon Banks!"
"Damon Banks?"
The man in front of her turned out to be Damon Banks, one of the most successful businessmen in Rosaville City.
Rumor has it that he was a ruthless and decisive man. The companies competing against him in the business world would never survive for more than a year.
Same goes for his women. Just short of two years after returning to Rosaville City, there were already at least two women rumored to be involved with him.
How on earth did she come across such a player?
Damon, on the other hand, were not the slightest perturbed by the thoughts running through the woman's mind. He was in a good mood today as he stroked Arabella's stray bangs away from her beautiful face.
Slap!
Arabella slapped his hand away. "There is no need to trouble yourself, Mr. Banks. I will do it myself."
'Feisty, just like a wild kitty...'
Damon glanced at her playfully, his arms folded in front of his chest, "You haven't told me your name yet!"
Arabella's hand trembled, clenching her teeth she answered, "I do not think there is any need to know my name. That is all for today. I am no longer in your debt!"
Before Damon could react further, Arabella quickly rushed out. Damon Banks narrowed his eyes as he looked at the woman's figure scurrying away.
The cold rain outside seemed to intensify the warmth emanating from the crackling fireplace. Arabella nestled herself closer to the flickering flames, her mind consumed by the storm of thoughts swirling within her."Here," Damon's voice, soft and soothing, broke through her reverie. He offered her a steaming cup, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding."Thank you," Arabella murmured, accepting the cup with a small, grateful smile. Though she held it in her hands, she seemed more drawn to the comfort of Damon's presence than to the warmth of the drink.As Damon settled beside her, Arabella felt a hesitant longing stirring within her. She turned towards him, their eyes meeting in the flickering firelight, and in that moment, words seemed unnecessary. There was a silent communion between them, an unspoken understanding of shared pain and solace.Without a word, Arabella leaned into Damon's embrace, seeking refuge from the tempest of emotions raging within her. His arms enveloped
ONE YEAR LATERThe atmosphere was as funereal as the situation itself. The sun hadn't visited that part of the city since the previous day, as if it were also in mourning. Heavy clouds and timid splashes of rain were present, which only made the day seem less happy.A white tent chapel had been placed in the mansion's garden. It was a large space, enough to accommodate the thirty people present. The dark wooden coffin was centered in the chapel, open so everyone could see Victor's limp, pale body.White chrysanthemums decorated the coffin. Those were traditional flowers at wakes, and they meant "Golden flower”, from the Greek.Three of Victor's friends were next to the coffin, crying softly and drying their tears with a tissue as they recalled their journey. They were long-time friends. Their suits were as dark as the sky, representing perhaps eternal mourning.That was the garden of the mansion that Arabella had bought months before. She barely had time to get used to the place.Anas
HOURS LATERAs Damon stepped into his city apartment, a heavy silence greeted him, amplified by the absence of any illumination. The darkness enveloped him like a heavy cloak, its weight pressing down on his shoulders as he traversed the familiar space. He made no move to flick on a light switch, preferring instead to let the shadows consume him, mirroring the desolation that gnawed at his insides.Approaching the drinks table, he reached for a decanter, his hand moving with practiced precision as he poured himself a potent measure of whiskey. The liquid glimmered faintly in the dimness, casting fleeting reflections against the polished surface of the glass. With a solemn sigh, he lifted the drink to his lips, the fiery liquid igniting a dull ache in his chest as it slid down his throat.Leaning against the window, he gazed out at the city sprawled before him, its towering buildings reaching up towards the inky sky like silent sentinels. The nocturnal metropolis seemed to pulse w
The interior of the vehicle was permeated with Banks's scent. He wore an excessively good perfume, not exactly strong, but rather striking. It was the kind of smell that only a person with a lot of money would have.The door was closed, and because she was in a complete trance, Arabella was scared. Christopher wisely remained outside so that he would not hear the conversation.Banks, with her naturally dark charm, twirled the ring on her middle finger while pretentiously ignoring Arabella. His gaze was directed forward, but so far away that it did not even seem like he was in that country.The woman moved closer to the door, as if it were possible to merge with the car. Damon noticed the movement, but did not bother to assure her that she did not need to be afraid. Because maybe she needed it."Everything is fine with you?" Arabella whispered so quietly that she wasn't sure she was heard, even with all the silence that surrounded them.Damon remained silent, and then he sank deeper in
And with that, everyone burst into prolonged applause. Some even stood up, but no one really knew the intention behind the speech. All that was left was for him to say Arabella's name, with each letter."Thank you all for coming. And if it's not too much to ask, be loyal. do not love me, but be loyal" Damon walked away from the pulpit and went down the stairs as he had gone up; ignoring all the eyes on you.In turn, the master of ceremonies returned to say a few words. "I am flattered by the opportunity to hear you, Mr. Banks. Now, for the entertainment of our audience, I would like to call to the stage Mr. Landwy, the evening's violinist."Arabella waited until the first chords of the violin sounded before muttering something to her father and standing up. People did not notice when she walked in long strides to the bathroom, as at this moment wine glasses began to be served throughout the room.Arabella thought that she could take refuge in that luxurious environment for the rest of
TWO DAYS LATER. NEW YORK.The dress shone when the few lights that filtered through the window touched it. The fabric was thin, sliding across the white skin with each subtle movement. The blue silk was a pure, almost innocent tone.Arabella was sitting in the backseat of the Bentley, and, next to her, Victor was also watching the view of the New York streets as the car passed through them. They were silent, as on many other occasions, but they were not uncomfortable. At least not with each other.Victor's treatment was having some effect. The best doctors in the city were taking care of him, at Damon's request, paid for by Damon.The father wore a tuxedo, the daughter wore a beautiful sky blue dress, along with long gloves in the same color. Her brown strands were tied into a high bun, with a few curls perfectly curled and loose.And when the car stopped in front of the Banks Nouveau building, the lady felt her hands sweat inside her gloves. There were countless photographers outside