Semua Bab You're Mine, Damon Sinclair: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Naomi's eyes fluttered open to the filtered light of the morning and the heavy weight of an arm draped across her waist. Her eyes swinging shut again in sleep, did that really happen last night? Her body felt heavy like she'd been run over by a truck. She stirred, a faint smile on her lips, a sense of peace she hadn't felt in years settling deep in her bones. When her eyes finally fluttered open, they landed on Damon's deep, knowing gaze.He was propped up on one elbow, his dark hair looked like a bird's nest, his eyes studying her with an intensity that no longer felt intimidating, but intimate. It was a gaze that told her something had changed. Or perhaps everything.Naomi felt a blush creep up her neck. A wave of shyness washed over her, and she instinctively pulled the silk sheets closer to her chest. "Morning," she whispered, her voice husky from sleep.Damon’s smile was slow and disarming. It wasn't the polite, controlled curve of his lips she was used to, but a genuine, playfu

The morning air at the company felt different. Or has it always been the same and Naomi, was the different one? Naomi stepped out of the elevator and onto her floor, heels clicking on the polished tiles. The previous day, an entire company-wide holiday, still felt like a dream. She was no longer just the competent employee with a ghost of a husband; she was a woman deeply in love, her body still humming with the memory of Damon's touch and her mind buzzing with the weight of his confessions. The world outside the bedroom had seemed so far away but here it was, as real as it could get. Naomi walked strict to her department, an unusual glow on her face as her team members glanced her way.“Good morning everyone!” “Oh! Ms Naomi! You're glowing!” Didi offered.Naomi touched her cheeks, genuinely surprised by her compliments. “You think so?” “Yes!” Rose chirped in. “You look almost unrecognisable. Ms Namoi! Did your husband….you know?” She cleared her throat. Naomi's cheeks coloured,

The sun had begun its slow descent when Naomi stepped out of Damon’s office, her blouse smoothed back into place, her hair carefully finger-combed into the sleek bun she’d worn that morning. She had practised her face in the mirror on the way down, neutral, professional, maybe a little tired from a long day. Nothing that hinted at the whirlwind she had just survived upstairs.The elevator ride down felt endless. The chrome walls reflected a composed woman in a pencil skirt and heels, clutching a folder like a shield. Inside, however, her heartbeat was still drumming, her lips still tingling from the imprint of Damon’s mouth, her skin still humming where his hands had been. The office floors passed by in a blur: finance, operations, legal. By the time the doors opened on her floor, she had rehearsed her cover story three times.The hum of the department greeted her as she stepped out. Desks littered with paper, muted chatter about deadlines, the smell of brewed coffee gone cold, ever

Sunlight crept through the curtains in thin gold spears. Naomi stirred against the pillows and blinked at the ceiling. For a few moments she didn’t move; she just let herself drift in the soft aftershock of the night before. Her muscles still held the faint ache of pleasure, and her thoughts were a series of blurred flashes: Damon’s hands gripping her hips, the low sound of his voice in the dark, the way she’d melted against him. Even now, breathing in the scent of his skin on the sheets, her pulse fluttered.The room smelled faintly of coffee. Damon always woke first. Naomi rolled onto her side and watched him across the room. He was at the window, his tall frame outlined by sunlight, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone.He wore a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair still damp from the shower. He looked every inch the CEO again and for some reason, it excited her. He’d been like this ever since she met him: half public man, half private man. She had thought

Rain had started to spit against the windscreen by the time Naomi’s driver pulled up outside the mansion. The sky hung low and grey, and for the first time all day she was grateful for the weather. She pressed her forehead to the window for a moment before opening the door, letting the cool air hit her skin. Her bag felt heavy on her shoulder, not because of its contents but because of the envelope inside.What was it about? Should she open it now? Uncle Jack said it was something about Damon…what if it was something she couldn't possibly handle? Her grip on the bag tightened, trying to push all the negative thoughts in her head to a pit.She keyed herself into the private elevator. The lift hummed upward, mirroring the rise of her pulse. All the way up she rehearsed what she would tell Damon: about the café, about Jack’s questions. But not the envelope. Not yet. The thought of opening it alone, of knowing something she could never unknow, made her stomach turn.The doors slid open t