Chapter 4

By the time I'd finished dealing with everything at the company, I was completely drained.

I had just pulled up to my private villa when I noticed a black Maybach parked in the courtyard.

Damian was sitting in his wheelchair, out in my garden… pruning roses?

He had on a loose black button-down, the collar slightly open, just enough to reveal the line of his collarbone. He held a pair of sharp shears in one hand, trimming away the dead branches with practiced, unhurried grace.

The last light of the setting sun fell across him, softening the hard edges of his face with a warm, golden glow. There was something breathtaking about it.

He heard my footsteps and paused, turning his head to look at me.

"You're back." His voice was quiet, carrying a warmth he almost managed to hide.

"How did you get in?" I frowned. The security system at my villa was absolutely top-notch.

Damian gave a soft laugh and held out a single red rose he'd just cut.

"There's nowhere in this world I can't get into if I want to. Besides — I'm your fiancé. Dropping by to see my future wife isn't exactly a crime, is it?"

I didn't take the rose. I just looked at him, my voice cool. "Damian, this is a business partnership. Don't go getting too caught up in the role."

The light in his eyes dimmed instantly, then was replaced by a flash of wild obsession.

He tossed the vibrant rose onto the floor without a second thought and wheeled forward, closing in on me.

"A business partnership?" He grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward him.

I tumbled into his arms and ended up straddling his lap.

"Damian! What are you doing!" I struggled to get up, but he locked his arm around my waist with a grip that was impossibly strong.

"Victoria, I warned you. Once you get involved with me, don't expect to walk away clean."

His eyes were dark and terrifying, like he wanted to devour me whole.

"At the office today, you went off like that for that worthless piece of trash. Do you still have feelings for him?"

His voice was thick with jealousy and barely contained rage.

"Are you insane!" I glared at him, furious. "I did that to clean house! I don't have feelings for anyone!"

His voice was thick with jealousy and barely contained rage.

"Are you insane!" I glared at him, furious. "I did that to clean house! I don't have feelings for him!"

After heard me. The hostility in Damian's eyes eased, just a little.

He suddenly buried his face in the curve of my neck and breathed in deeply.

"Good." His voice came out muffled, and to my surprise, there was a thread of vulnerability in it. "Vivi, you're mine. Only mine. Anyone who tries to take you from me — I'll kill them."

I didn't know what to do with him when he was like this.

This man — one moment he was a raging lion, the next he was a giant dog desperate for reassurance.

Then my phone rang.

It was Julian.

I was about to decline the call, but Damian moved faster — he hit answer and switched it to speaker.

"Vivi…" Julian's voice came through the line, hoarse and defeated. "I looked into it. Chloe really did lie to me. I was wrong. I should have believed you. I should never have let her fool me. Vivi, can you forgive me? Can we start over…"

Before I could say a word, Damian let out a cold laugh.

"Start over?" His voice was like a blade dipped in ice. "Julian, who the hell do you think you are? You really think you can compete with me?"

Julian went dead silent on the other end. "Damian?! Why are you at Vivi's place? What did you do to her?"

"What did I do?" Damian's fingers deliberately traced along my waist, slow and suggestive, sending a shiver through my body.

He leaned close to my ear and spoke into the phone. "What any engaged couple does, of course. I suggest you give it up — unless you want your legs to end up just like mine."

Then he hung up and tossed my phone aside.

I was shaking with anger. "Damian, what the hell was that!"

He looked up at me, eyes blazing, a wicked smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Was it a lie, Vivi? Maybe we should make it real."

Then his lips came down on mine — overwhelming, punishing, possessive — leaving no room for me to pull away.