Chapter 1: The Devil's Wife
The marble floor was cold under Sera Quinn's knees.
Her wrists were bound behind her back in soft leather cuffs, and her bare skin prickled beneath Damien Vale's gaze. He sat in his leather throne at the head of the bedroom like a god judging his prize.
She could feel his eyes on her—hotter than fire, sharper than any blade.
"You disobeyed me, Sera," he said, his voice slow, cruelly calm. "You went through my files."
She lifted her chin, defiant even on her knees. "Because you lie."
Damien stood, barefoot, shirtless, his dark slacks hanging low on his hips. Every step toward her echoed with authority.
"I told you the past didn't matter," he said, circling her. "But you still went digging."
"I needed to know if you've ever loved anyone," she hissed. "If there was someone before me."
He crouched beside her, his hand fisting in her hair, yanking her head back.
"There was no before you," he growled, mouth brushing her ear. "But keep testing me, and I'll remind you who owns that pretty mouth."
His grip loosened. His hand slid down her throat, down between her breasts, to the curve of her stomach. She shivered. Hated it. Loved it.
"You want truth, Sera?" His hand slipped between her thighs. "It's right here. You're wet for me even when I'm angry. Especially when I'm angry."
She gasped as he pushed two fingers inside her without warning.
"This is how I know you're mine," he whispered, kissing her jaw. "You crave the punishment."
He lifted her off the floor, threw her onto the bed. No words. Just his mouth devouring hers, his hands rough, mouth hot, touch everywhere.
He fucked her like a man possessed—hands on her throat, hips slamming, their bodies colliding with violent passion.
She screamed his name when she came, nails clawing his back, tears in her eyes.
And when he finally collapsed beside her, breathless, sweat slicking their skin, he whispered:
"I would burn the world before I lose you."
Chapter 2: The Enemy Between Us
The morning sun filtered through black curtains, but there was nothing soft about the air between them.
Sera lay tangled in silk sheets, her body sore in all the right places. Damien stood at the window shirtless, a cigar in one hand, his phone in the other.
She watched him in silence—his back all muscle and scars, the sharp angles of a man who had killed for power and would kill again for love.
He hung up the call, exhaled smoke, and said without turning, "She's back."
Sera's stomach clenched. "Who?"
Damien turned to her slowly, his eyes unreadable. "Valeria."
Sera sat up. "The one who said she had your child?"
"She doesn't. She lied to get my attention."
"Did it work?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he walked to the bed and grabbed her ankle, yanking her body down the mattress. "You think I'd let another woman come between us?"
"I think you let her come close enough once to believe she could," Sera snapped.
That earned her punishment.
He flipped her onto her stomach, ripped the sheet off her, and brought his palm down on her bare ass—hard. She gasped, but didn't protest. Not when the second slap came, or the third.
"You don't get to doubt me," he growled, spanking her until her skin glowed red. "You want to feel how loyal I am?"
He spread her open, positioned himself, and pushed in with one brutal thrust.
She cried out, clenching the sheets, her body shaking as he pounded into her from behind, hand fisted in her hair, dragging her head back as he grunted through his teeth.
"You think she ever got this?" he growled. "No. Only you, Sera. Only ever you."
When they finished, they were both trembling. She collapsed into the mattress, and he lay over her like a shield.
"I'll deal with Valeria," he whispered. "But if she touches you, I'll put a bullet between her eyes."
Chapter 3: His Rules, Her Fire
Sera stood in the walk-in closet, wrapped in nothing but one of Damien's silk dress shirts. It barely covered her ass.
She stared at herself in the mirror—at the bite marks on her neck, the bruises on her thighs, the mess he left between her legs.
She wasn't ashamed.
She was owned.
And she liked it.
The door creaked open behind her. Damien's reflection appeared in the mirror, towering, calm. Dangerous.
"Why are you wearing that?" he asked, voice low.
"You ripped my dress last night," she said, brushing a finger over a hickey on her collarbone. "Remember?"
He stepped closer, hands sliding around her waist. "I remember everything about you when you're under me."
His fingers dipped between her thighs. She was still slick.
He groaned softly, dragging his mouth along her shoulder. "Still ruined. And I haven't even fed you."
"I'm not hungry," she whispered.
"Liar."
In one motion, he turned her, lifted her onto the dresser, and dropped to his knees.
"Damien—" Her breath caught as his tongue met her heat.
She moaned, legs shaking around his shoulders as he tasted her like she was his first meal in days.
He didn't stop when she came. He held her there, spread open, tongue relentless until she begged.
When he finally stood, his mouth was wet with her.
"I have a meeting with Valeria today," he said, zipping his pants, voice even.
Sera's eyes narrowed. "You're meeting her. Alone?"
"She asked to see me."
She hopped off the dresser and pushed him hard in the chest. "Then let her see this."
She dropped to her knees, yanked his pants down, and took him into her mouth—rough, wet, savage. He cursed, his hand tangled in her hair, trying to keep control.
But Sera wasn't being gentle.
When he came with a growl, she swallowed everything, stood, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Tell her you belong to me," she said, voice like velvet and fire.
And she walked out, naked and fearles