All Chapters of Damien's Willing Captive : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Damien’s POVThe adrenaline was still pulsing in my veins, a slow burn just under my skin, long after the room erupted in relief. Applause. Hugs. Smiles.Cleo’s solution was a goddamn miracle—smooth, clean, impossible even.And that scared me more than anything.I watched my team moving like a well-oiled machine. Developers are back in their chairs, Olivia delegating with sharp commands, PR scrambling to reshape the narrative, legal scanning every inch of our contracts to build a new wall.We were survivors—no, we were warriors. And Cleo had led the charge.I should’ve felt relieved.But instead, something gnawed at the back of my mind like a tick beneath the skin. Something I couldn’t name.I walked to the far end of the boardroom, pretending to check a digital display. The screen flickered—numbers, graphs, clean projections. Too clean.My palms itched.I exhaled, rolling my shoulders.“Damien,” a voice hissed.I turned, just in time to see Olivia’s manicured fingers wrap tightly aro

Isabella’s POVMy throat dries instantly. “No, please, Carla. You can’t fire me. I’m not lying. I swear to God, I’m telling the truth!”Carla shook her head with a bitter scoff, turning back toward her desk. “You could’ve made one phone call. One. I gave you time off—generously, I might add—and you ghosted. No call. No email. Do you know how many clients I had to personally handle because of you?”“I didn’t even want to go on vacation!” I cried out, stepping closer, desperation cracking through my voice. “You told me to take days. You insisted. Remember? I picked the shortest stretch I could and planned to go home, just for a breath—just for some air.”Her arms remained folded. Her expression? Unforgiving.Tears pooled in my eyes, but I forced myself to hold her gaze. “I didn’t even get to see my family. I was taken the afternoon I arrived at the airport. Kidnapped. I was locked away by someone I didn’t even know existed until that moment. He mistook me for someone else, but I managed

Isabella’s POV That fucking voice again. I wanted to spit venom, call him a creep, lace my words with something sharp enough to cut. But something twisted inside me—something I couldn’t name. My skin prickled like static before a storm. My blood surged hot and heavy, like it didn’t belong to me anymore. Every nerve lit up, caught somewhere between warning and want. I shoved his hand off me. “Back off, asshole.” “Relax, baby,” he said, hand returning to my waist. “Just trying to—” “I said back the fuck off.” When he didn’t move, I drove my knee into his groin. Hard. He folded like paper. I didn’t wait for the crowd to react—I staggered off, nearly falling in my heels as heat radiated off my skin. Something was wrong. My heart raced erratically. My vision blurred. My body ached—not from exhaustion, but arousal. Overwhelming, dangerous, unwelcome arousal. I heard rushed footsteps closing in behind me, quick and heavy, and instinctively, I quickened my pace—heart p

Isabella’s POV My jaw dropped. Wait. She’s his mother? Jace Salvador stood at the threshold of Display Room Two like sin in a tailored suit. His messy brown hair was tousled in that effortless I-just-woke-up-and-still-look-like-sex way. His sleeves were rolled up, forearms veined, watch gleaming. He looked like the villain in a telenovela that everyone rooted for. And worse—his eyes found mine immediately. Oh! No. Not the slow, lingering kind of glance. It was recognition. Instant. Sharp. His mouth twitched. Dear Lord, please don’t let him say anything. Do not, under any divine circumstance, let this man open his gorgeous mouth and yell something like: “Hey, nipple-sucker!" But no. He just stared. A glint of mischief lit his eyes like a spark in gasoline. His mother, in full Karen regalia—pearls, pastel heels, power hunger—turned to him with the flourish of a woman about to throw a tantrum at Buckingham Palace. “Wild animal?” Linda muttered under her breath.

ISABELLA'S POV My heart stopped before my breath did. The screen glowed coldly from where it lay face-up on the floor, and my lungs refused to expand. Just five words. All caps. Like someone screaming in silence. I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. My fingers twitched, useless for a full second before I slowly bent and picked the phone up, hands trembling. I stared. Read it again. The number was unknown. No contact name. No context. Just that message. And suddenly, my entire office felt too quiet. I sat frozen, phone in hand, heartbeat thudding like war drums in my ears. A cold sweat began to crawl down the back of my neck. I locked the screen. Then unlocked it again. The message was still there. “What the hell…?” My throat dried up like cotton. Before I could process what the hell this was— Another notification. My fingers flinched so violently I almost dropped the phone again. This time I didn’t wait. I tapped it open like I was defusing a bomb.