Semua Bab Sinful Seduction (Exotica Collection): Bab 101 - Bab 110

The elevator climbed so smoothly that Isla barely felt it moving, but the tension in her stomach made her sway on her heels. She had been in luxury high-rises before, but not like this. Not to meet him.Damien Veyra’s penthouse occupied the top two floors of the tallest building in the city — a property whispered about in investor circles, not because of its price tag, but because no one entered unless invited. And invitations from Damien were never casual.She clutched her tablet to her chest, trying to ignore the faint tremor in her hands. She knew why she was here. The presentation she’d given earlier that week — the one she’d spent nights perfecting — had contained a single, devastating error. A miscalculated figure in the campaign’s cost projection. The client had noticed, and now here she was, summoned to answer for it.The elevator doors opened directly into his penthouse. No lobby, no reception area. Just a single expanse of polished black marble, reflecting the golden glow of

The third night felt different before she even stepped through the door.The lights in the hallway were lower than usual, and when Damien appeared, he was already dressed in black from collar to cuffs, his expression unreadable. He didn’t greet her with words this time. He simply held out his hand.Her breath caught, but she placed her palm in his. His grip was firm, guiding her through the penthouse without a sound. They passed the main living space, the chair from the night before gone. Tonight, he was taking her somewhere else.A door she hadn’t noticed before stood at the far end of the hall. Damien opened it with a key, and a rush of cooler air brushed over her skin as they stepped inside.The room was dim, lit only by recessed lights along the baseboards. The floor was polished black wood, the walls a deep slate. A low bed sat against one wall, but her eyes were drawn to the set of leather cuffs hanging neatly from a rail, and the single armless chair in the center of the room.

The city blurred by in reflections on glass. She caught herself counting lights to stay steady. Elio’s sleeve brushed her arm, not accident, not apology. Warm.“Relax,” he said. “You look like you are trying to hold your bones in with your teeth.”“Maybe I am.”Maddox’s voice came low from the front. “Then unclench.”The car ate distance. When the gates opened, they did it quietly, like they were used to obeying. The house beyond did not scream money. It hummed with it. White stone, calm lines, windows that held the night like a secret. The doors opened without knocking.Inside, the temperature shifted from autumn to something softer. Shadows walked the halls. Arden’s sneakers sounded out of place, like she had brought a street into a museum.Dorian led. Maddox flanked. Elio drifted at her shoulder.They stopped in a room with a long table set for four. A single place on one side. Three on the other. The plates were matte porcelain, the forks too heavy for cheap. Elio pulled her chair

The morning after her first night in the Devils’ penthouse, Arden woke to the knock. Firm. Even. Three beats.She sat up before she remembered she’d been told to wait for instructions before leaving her room. The door opened anyway, and Dorian stepped in.He was in a dark shirt, sleeves rolled, cuffs buttoned precise. He didn’t look like he’d just woken; he looked like he’d been awake for hours.“Get dressed,” he said. “Follow me.”She obeyed, pulling on the clothes she’d left folded on the chair the night before — a simple sweater and jeans that felt suddenly too thin in his presence.They walked down a different hallway this time, one lined with tall glass doors opening to balconies she hadn’t seen. Dorian led her into a room with a long desk, shelves of leather-bound books, and a single chair set directly in front of his.“Sit.”She lowered herself into it, the desk between them wide enough to remind her she wasn’t meant to move closer unless told.He laid a folder in front of her.

Arden didn’t knock anymore.She stepped into the Devils’ penthouse at exactly five o’clock, the weight of the silver ring on her wrist a constant reminder of the contract she’d signed. She expected to find them in the usual places — Dorian in his study, Maddox in the gym, Elio sprawled across the lounge chairs like the room existed for him alone.Instead, they were waiting. All three.They stood in the center of the living room, the furniture cleared to the edges as if the space had been prepared for something specific. The curtains were drawn against the city, the lighting low enough to blur the corners.Dorian stepped forward first. “Close the door.”She obeyed.“Come here.”The tone left no room for delay. She crossed the room, her heartbeat quickening with each step.Maddox’s eyes followed her, slow and deliberate. Elio leaned lazily against the arm of the sofa, but his stillness was deceptive — he was watching everything.When she stopped in front of Dorian, he held her gaze for