Modern Damsel In Distress Novels & Stories

Rain poured over the city like it knew the world was on the brink of war. In the center of it all stood Celeste, poised in her penthouse like a queen preparing for coronation. Her dark red gown trailed across marble floors, and her eyes glittered with the satisfaction of a long-anticipated strike. The screens around her displayed everything; the breaking news tarnishing Damon’s name, the panic rippling through his shareholders, and the video feed of Mason, held somewhere she knew.

Her hands reached out to Clair's shoulders as she flinched, turning abruptly. “What?” she demanded, but Dama's look of horror was enough to make her look over to the balcony, but there was nothing. Frustrated, Clair turned and landed a hot slap on Dama’s cheeks. “I am already stressed as it is; I won't have you make jokes out of me.” Dama holds her swollen cheeks painfully, tears streaming down her face as she points towards Clair. “Your ..your dress is stained from behind.” Her trembling voice instantly got the attention of Clair, who turned to the huge mirror, but the red stain from behind did not make her faze.

He heard Rojas's footsteps behind him and he quickly changed his expression into a straight one once again. "Where is she?" He asked simply. "She's in the basement sir." Rojas repiled straight away. Damien hummed and walked down towards the basement with Rojas tagging behind. They both reached the basement and unlocked the door. Damien Instantly smirked seeing the trembling woman tied in shackles and chained up. She was treated more worse than an animal. Claire's eyes widened seeing Damien. Her eyes glittered showing signs of hope in them. She didn't know that Damien was behind her being chained down to the cold floor in only her bra and panties. Her gown had been ripped and torn off by Dami

A quiet space carved out of the chaos. Amara sat beside Damian, still in her floor-length gown, the silver embroidery catching the faint glow of the streetlights. A few curls had escaped her elaborate hairstyle, a single strand falling over her shoulder, a soft defiance against the formal elegance of the night. She looked like a woman who had just stepped off a throne, weary from battle but victorious.

Jasmina asked, “You’re not going, right?” “I’m not missing it,” Amara said. Scene Seven – Lisbon, Midnight The old ballroom stank of wine and rotted wealth. Damien waited alone at the head of a broken table. A glass of red in one hand. A pistol on the table. Amara entered without hesitation. He stood. “Amara Varela. The fire queen herself.” She didn’t blink. “Damien Nero. The bastard who crawled out of his father’s corpse.” He laughed. “We have the same blood, you know.”

Esther asked softly, sniffing and looking at Anastasia. Damien felt touched deep down but he couldn't watch them any longer as he was already feeling terrible so he matched in with the guards and snapped at the two ladies, “What are you both doing here with the criminal?! Lady Esther, go back to your mate immediately!” His thunderous voice sent Esther running out of the dungeon as she let go of Anastasia’s hand. Damien without even taking permission from Hannah picked her up so effortlessly and threw her on his shoulders taking her out of the dungeon.

“I told you not to do anything reckless didn’t I…? Alex.” Said Duke David from the kingdom of Atria “I did not do anything reckless old man… I just saved a damsel in distress…” said Alex “Damsel In distress…!? The person you helped was not any ordinary lady…!” “Yeah yeah… She is the young lady from the Charleston house… I was curious about her because I heard rumors that she had changed a lot so I wanted to see for my own amusement… It isn’t a crime to help someone is it…?”

"Is there any way you can get me a chat with just him?" He is silent for a moment, contemplating. Then I see him smile. "What are you laughing about?" "Damsel in distress" " I am not!" "No, Jane. Here's how we'll get you a one-on-one chat with Damian so you can talk to him. You need to play the damsel in distress" "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm a damsel in distress" "I know it's not the ideal way to do it, but it's the best I can do right now. Do you want to talk to him or not?"

Damien snorted loudly, then left the room to return to Charis. As soon as Damien left, Weya immediately approached the old maid, gripping her hand tightly. “Where’s Serena? How did she escape, huh?” she snapped. “I… I really don’t know, Madam,” the maid stuttered. Weya snorted harshly, then ordered the guards to remove the drunken hired man who had become their trap. "Clear him out of the Duff mansion. Now!" she commanded. Mosa just shook her head in disbelief. “How could that woman escape?” she muttered, before glancing sarcastically at Yonara and walking away.

“Don't you worry, Anna. I'll teach this asshole a lesson he will never forget! When I'm done with him, his chest will need a bandage. You hear that? A bandage!” Anna ran to her at once, and grabbed her from behind. “Stop it Bride!” “Stop it?” She pulled, trying to force her body out of the older woman's surprisingly strong grip. “How can I stop when this– this pervert and his friends took off my clothes whilst I was unconscious? Just how?!” Her voice resounded, as she screamed at the top of it. Anna, trained for situations like this, turned her around forcefully, so her enraged face was facing her instead. “Listen to me, Bride. You've got it wrong. You've got it absolutely wrong.”