All Chapters of The Billionaire's Brutal Seduction: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Damian's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Louise is my housekeeper. She runs this place like a general. Keeps me from living like a bachelor cliché." He paused, turning to Louise. "Make sure Chloe's got everything she needs when she's here." "Absolutely," she said, her smile polite but brief before she disappeared with Diva. "Housekeeper?" Chloe asked. "What happened to the cleaning company you hired years ago?" "Still around. Louise manages their daily routines. She handles the household from the basics like groceries to pool cleaners, gardeners, and ensuring my chef's schedule aligns with mine." He smiled, his green eyes pinning her in place. "Come, babe. I'll make you coffee." She followed him through the pristine hallway, the click of her heels echoing off the polished floors. The open-plan kitchen and living area unfolded before her, all sleek lines and muted luxury—marble counters, soft leather, and floor-to-ceiling windows framing a night garden that glowed under moonli

A phone call pierced the tense atmosphere of the room, breaking the chain of dark thoughts that enveloped Damian and his family. He reached for the phone, his hand steady despite his inner turmoil. It was his mother’s lawyer, Grant Rochefort, on the line. His voice carried a calculated calmness that didn’t mask the urgency of his words. “Damian, I hope this isn’t an intrusion, but there’s an urgent matter we need to discuss regarding Hope’s inheritance,” Grant began, his tone formal yet pressing. “I’ve sent you an email detailing the complexities, but a problematic clause in the family trust threatens her future security.” Damian’s brow furrowed as he processed the information, his grip tightening on the phone. “What exactly are we looking at?” “It’s the bloodline clause associated with your family’s assets,” he explained, the sound of rustling papers audible over the line as if he were referencing a document. “It states, in no uncertain terms, that Scott-Quinn Enterprise’s asset

“Mother.” “My son. I missed you.” Saira pulled her chair closer to the small table facing the control booth at Lester Harbor Women’s Correctional Center. She glanced at the surveillance cameras and opened the lid of a chessboard. “Care for a game of chess?” Damian nodded and sat across from his mother under the watchful eye of a security officer who observed their every move. “You don’t say much, do you? But then again, you were always a quiet child.” She smiled, setting up the pieces, pawn by pawn, then the more important ones. Her once blonde hair was now snow white, cascading down her shoulders, highlighting her piercing gray eyes. Damian remembered when she wore designer clothing instead of a prison uniform. A time when she would leave him at home with a babysitter or housekeeper. He envied the kids whose parents took them to the park. Saira was either in the boardroom or entertaining men.

“Follow me,” the tour guide, Tabitha, called to Chloe and the visitors at Quinn Mansion, a massive heritage-listed Gilded Age attraction. With sharp features and dark hair tied in a bun, the guide moved with practiced grace. Her crisp white blouse and black skirt exuded an air of authority. Chloe blended with the Friday afternoon tour group, her thoughts wandering. She considered the last few weeks a little ‘vacation’ before starting her new job at Harbor Alliances, a financial investment firm. The interview was grueling, but she nailed the problem-solving test and received an offer with a decent salary and her own office. So, what was she doing at Quinn Mansion? Damian revealed he often visited the family residence as a child. She wanted to know more about him and if she could uncover any family secrets to help him challenge his mother. “I played hide and seek with the housekeepers,” he reminisced during a video call earlier that week. “I’ll never forget the trouble I got into for

“Shit.” Damian raked his hair after reading his mother’s diary entry. “I don’t want to believe this, but I’m not surprised about what my mother did. Being a Quinn by blood is a curse, not a blessing.”Chloe placed a warm hand on his forearm, feeling the tension in his muscles. “We’ve read news stories about kids and teens being killers before. She’s not the first, and she won’t be the last.”Damian flipped through the pages, his strong hands trembling. Each entry was a window into Saira’s tortured soul, filled with sadness and anger. Her emotions melted into prose, swearing vengeance on anyone who hurt her.“I almost feel sorry for my mother,” he said. “For what my grandfather did. My grandmother should have shielded her instead of making her the enemy. No one deserves parents who treat love like a weapon.”Chloe slid the diary onto the walnut dresser. “So you do feel sorry for Saira?”His eyes flashed green fire. “No. I said almost. Hard to pity a woman who’s trying to destroy my sist