Elara's POV

I didn't sleep. How could I, with that mysterious text burning in my mind and Damian's taste still on my lips? By the time dawn broke over the city, I'd worn a path in the carpet, my thoughts circling like vultures.

‘Watch Victoria. Trust no one. They're listening.’

The door unlocked at exactly seven. A young woman in a maid's uniform entered with a breakfast tray, her eyes downcast.

"Mr. Voss requests your presence in the dining room in thirty minutes," she said softly, setting the tray on the table.

 "He's laid out appropriate clothing in the closet."

"Wait." I caught her arm as she turned to leave. "What's your name?"

She hesitated. "Rosa, miss."

"Rosa, how long have you worked here?"

"Three years." Her eyes darted to the corners of the room, nervous. "I really should go."

"Has he ever... brought other women here? Like me?"

Something flickered across her face. Pity? "No, miss. You're the first." She pulled free gently. 

"Please don't be late. He doesn't like waiting."

The "appropriate clothing" turned out to be a designer dress that probably cost more than my monthly rent. Black, fitted, with a neckline that showed more cleavage than I was comfortable with. 

I considered refusing, but the memory of Damian's cold eyes made me reconsider.

 Pick your battles, Elara.

The dress fit perfectly. Of course it did. He measured me with those calculating eyes and knew exactly what would hug my curves, what would make me look like the possession he claimed.

I found the dining room by following the scent of coffee.

 Damian sat at the head of a table that could seat twelve, reading something on his tablet. He didn't look up when I entered.

"Sit."

Not "good morning." Not "how did you sleep." Just a command.

I sat, my hands clenched in my lap. "We need to talk about."

"The rules." He set down the tablet, finally looking at me. His gaze traveled over the dress with obvious appreciation before meeting my eyes. 

"First, you go nowhere without Marcus or another guard. 

Second, you don't contact anyone from your previous life. Third, you're available whenever I want you. Fourth,"

"I'm not a dog you can train."

His jaw tightened. "You're whatever I say you are."

"Then you're a monster."

The words hung between us, sharp and dangerous. 

Damian stood slowly, moving around the table with predatory grace. He stopped behind my chair, his hands gripping the backrest on either side of me, caging me in.

"Yes," he breathed against my ear. "I am. And you'd do well to remember that."

His lips brushed my neck, and I hated the shiver that ran through me. "Stop."

"Why?" One hand moved to my shoulder, fingers trailing along my collarbone. "Your body doesn't want me to stop.

 I can see your pulse racing. Feel how you lean into my touch even as you tell me no."

"That's not, I'm not."

He spun my chair around, forcing me to face him. 

Then he was on his knees, eye level with me, his hands on my thighs. The position should have made him less threatening. It didn't.

"Tell me you don't want this." His hands slid higher, pushing the dress up. 

"Tell me you don't think about last night. About my mouth on yours."

I couldn't. God help me, I couldn't lie.

His smile was sharp and triumphant. "That's what I thought."

He leaned in, and I braced for another consuming kiss.

 Instead, his mouth found my inner thigh, teeth grazing sensitive skin. I gasped, my hands flying to his hair.

"Damian."

"Mr. Voss?" Victoria's voice cut through the room like ice water.

Damian pulled back immediately, standing and adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. I yanked my dress down, face burning.

Victoria stood in the doorway, immaculate in a cream suit, her smile sharp enough to cut glass.

 "I'm sorry to interrupt your... breakfast. But we have that meeting with the board in twenty minutes."

"I'll be there." Damian's voice was cold, controlled.

 Nothing like the rough desire from moments ago.

Victoria's gaze slid to me, assessing.

 "And what shall we do with your little pet while you're busy?"

"She stays here. Marcus will watch her."

"Actually," Victoria moved closer, her heels clicking on marble, "I thought I might take her shopping.

 She needs a proper wardrobe if she's going to be living here. Unless you want her looking like an unkept woman?"

Something passed between them, unspoken and tense.

"Fine," Damian said finally. "But Marcus goes with you."

Victoria's smile widened. "Of course."

After Damian left, Victoria circled me slowly, like a shark scenting blood. "Let's get something straight, dear. I don't know what little fantasy you're spinning in your head, but Damian will never love you.

 He doesn't love anyone. He'll use you until he's bored, then discard you like trash."

"I don't want his love," I said, trying to sound convincing.

"Good. Because his last girlfriend thought she could change him too." 

Victoria leaned in close, her perfume cloying. "She ended up in a psychiatric ward. Couldn't handle what he did to her."

My blood ran cold. "What did he do?"

"Everything." Victoria straightened, her smile never wavering. "Now, let's go shopping. We have so much to discuss, you and I."

As we headed to the elevator, Marcus trailing behind, I remembered the text. ‘Watch Victoria.’

I was watching. And what I saw terrified me more than Damian ever could.