All Chapters of Revenge After Divorce: All Men Want Her : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Damon’s POVI’m sitting at the head of the table in the executive boardroom on the top floor. In front of me, the Sales Director is shouting over projected charts on the wall. The numbers are excellent—profits have doubled since the last quarter—a performance that should thrill any shareholder.Yet, I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing, except for a dull irritation burning in my throat. My face is a mask of ice, a dark shadow that no one in this room dares to look at directly. The executives hold their breath, trying their best to become invisible.For a month, I’ve been a wreck. I’ve lived like a ghost, devastated by her absence. Rumors are flying through the hallways: "The great Damon Lambert has a broken heart." Pathetic. I don’t even have an official mistress, so where would this "woman" who turned me into a zombie even come from?My phone vibrates on the table.I glance distractedly at the screen. My blood turns to fire. I raise a hand, cutting the Director’s monologue dead.My dri

Elena’s POVI didn’t wake up until mid-afternoon, the daylight filtering softly through the apartment curtains. Damon was already there, looking fresh and energized, a look of absolute serenity painted on his face. He handed me a glass of water before pulling me back against him, his satisfaction almost palpable in the warmth of the room."Are you hungry? What can I get for you?" he asked, his voice still a bit husky.I frowned, pushing his face away with the tip of my fingers and what little strength I had left."Get lost," I rasped.He let out a small laugh, pressing a kiss to my temple with a sweetness that was almost grating."Don't be grumpy."I stayed huddled under the covers, having no desire to move. He eventually carried me to the bathroom so I could freshen up, then laid me back on the bed as if I were a fragile museum piece."You’re so clumsy," I grumbled because he’d gotten my hair wet while helping me. It earned me a protective smile."Such a demanding little thing," he w

Elena’s POVI raised the crop and cracked it once more against the top of his chest. The dull thud echoed through the room. A thin red line appeared almost instantly on his bare skin. He took a sharp breath through his nose but didn't move an inch.I crouched down in front of him, just enough so that our faces were level. The lace of my lingerie brushed against my thighs as I leaned in. I could already feel the heavy, damp heat between my legs—a tension that had been building since the moment he’d handed me the crop.With a slow movement, I ran my fingers through his hair, gripping a handful at the root. I pulled his head back, exposing his throat. He didn't resist. His lips parted, his breath hitching, becoming shorter and more frantic."Do you like it when I hurt you?" I whispered against his Adam’s apple."I like it when you're the one who decides."I let go of his hair to slide my free hand down his chest, trailing all the way to the waistband of his trousers. I grazed it with the

Elena’s POVI had no intention of accepting Damon’s "gifts." For me, our relationship was a matter of pure, unadulterated desire. If I started accepting his properties and jewelry, the very nature of our bond would change forever. I didn't want that.Besides, I was far from broke. My divorce from Julian had left me with a comfortable share of our marital assets and a solid stock portfolio. I had also meticulously listed every cent Julian had spent on his mistresses over the years, demanding he reimburse me down to the very last euro.I spent my time between Damon’s private resort and his apartment on Avenue Montaigne. Damon had become clingy in an almost possessive way that was difficult to escape.But very quickly, the reality of his empire caught up with him.The Lambert patriarch, his grandfather, had fallen ill. On his hospital bed, the old lion fixated on one thing: seeing Damon married before he drew his last breath. He had already chosen the ideal bride—the heiress to a Scandin

Adrien’s POVEver since I returned from that medical volunteer program in the village, I haven’t been able to get Elena out of my head.It’s absurd. We only spent a few days together in that middle-of-nowhere village, far from the chaos of Paris. There, between makeshift consultations, her laughter had completely disarmed me. I actually thought something was happening—a real connection, stripped of all the artifice. And then, one morning, I woke up and she was gone. Not a word. Just a void. She had rushed back to her life in Paris, leaving me there with my feelings in tatters.To protect myself, I blocked her. I told myself it was the only way to keep from going insane while waiting for a message that would never come. I wanted to erase her, to strike her name from my contacts like amputating a gangrenous limb to save the rest of the body. But tonight, I realized the anesthesia isn't taking.It was my day off. I had finally managed to stabilize my thoughts when Marc called me around t