All Chapters of His Uncle Ruined Me For Good: Chapter 11 - Chapter 19

The clock on my nightstand ticked silently over to 11:58 PM. My body was still humming from the scalding hot shower I’d taken to wash away the ghost of Ethan’s touch, but the skin beneath my collarbone—where Damon had left his mark in the cellar—seemed to burn with a phantom heat.he lingering repulsion of his presence still made my skin crawl.I was sitting on the edge of my bed, nursing a glass of ice water and staring blankly at the city lights outside my window, when the quiet vibration of my phone startled the silence.I picked it up. A single text from an unsaved, private number flashed across the dark screen.B1 Level. Executive Garage. Vance Tower. 12:15 AM.No greeting. No asking if I was awake. Just a blunt command written in the dark, confident authority that belonged to only one man.I held the phone, staring at the glowing numbers until the screen dimmed. I shouldn't go. I should block the number, throw my silk robe back on, and go to sleep like a sane woman who cared abou

The morning sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my corner office should have felt warm, but the heavy glass skyscraper remained chilled by central air and corporate tension. I sat behind my desk, nursing a double shot of black espresso. Beneath the crisp collar of my silk blouse, my skin still throbbed with a faint, phantom heat—a silent reminder of Damon’s mouth and hands in the dark, blacked-out cabin of his Maybach just hours ago.I had spent twenty minutes in front of my bathroom mirror at dawn trying to cover the dark bruise near my collarbone with concealer. I hadn't covered it completely. A part of me—a dark, reckless part I barely recognized—wanted it there. It was armor against the quiet lies of the Vance family.My phone buzzed on the blotter. It was an email from Ethan’s secretary confirming he was "out of office for off-site client me

The rain was slamming hard against the panoramic glass of the penthouse elevator as it shot up to the top floor of Vance Tower. My skin felt hot, my throat dry, and my pulse was hammering with a fast, heavy rhythm that had nothing to do with anxiety and everything to do with pure, desperate physical need.Ethan had texted earlier with some boring complaint about his father tearing apart his quarterly projections, but I hadn't even bothered reading it. My body wasn't thinking about Ethan. My body was thumping with a deep, aching itch that had been building at the base of my spine since the moment I woke up. I wanted dirty, ruthless, uninhibited sex, and there was only one man who knew how to give it to me.The elevator doors opened directly into Damon’s penthouse with a soft, electronic chime.He didn't have his suit jacket on. He was standing near the edge of the dark hardwood floor wearing just his tailored trousers, his crisp white dress shirt completely unbuttoned down the front, e

The glass doors of the executive boardroom on the eightieth floor shut with a quiet, pneumatic hiss, sealing out the hum of the trading desk below. The space was pristine, sterile, and wrapped in panoramic views of the city skyline. At the center of the room sat a thirty-foot slab of polished black granite, surrounded by twenty leather executive chairs.I sat near the middle of the long table, a montblanc pen resting beside a heavy stack of legal documents and final contract annexes. My hair was styled up, my charcoal suit tailored to perfection, and my posture relaxed and unbothered. But beneath the crisp cotton of my blouse and the tailored wool of my skirt, my body was humming with a lingering, sensitive ache. My skin still felt hot, my core throbbed with a faint, deep pulse from the penthouse sofa hours ago, and high on my inner thigh, Damon's mark burned like a secret brand beneath my clothes.