"Jessica, were you giving our CEO a hypnotherapy session?"
Jessica stepped out to encounter Cassie.
"Yeah, he's been having trouble sleeping and is increasingly relying on psychotherapy," she glanced at the coffee in Cassie’s hand and shook her head with a wry smile, "Try not to give him caffeine after two in the afternoon; he has serious neurasthenia."
"Mr. Hearst needs coffee every day... I’m afraid he won’t listen to me. Would you mind talking to him about it, Jessica?"
Jessica had become quite a fixture at the company, regularly found in the CEO's office where they would spend hours uninterrupted, stirring rumors that their relationship wasn't purely professional—perhaps even romantic.
Her interactions with the secretary spoke volumes; some things would have a better chance coming from Jessica.
"Sure, I'll remind him," Jessica offered, her curiosity piqued about the woman she’d seen. "By the way, who was that woman who went in earlier?"
"She's Mr. Hearst's lawyer. Surprisingly young, isn't she?"
“Yes, and quite attractive,” Jessica thought.
...
'See you tonight?'
Ashley mulled over those final words, a bitter mockery settling within her. In her memory of their marriage, his absence was profound; no calls, no texts, and no coming home. Apart from their names together on a marriage certificate and their occasional physical entanglements, he might as well have been a stranger.
And now, here he was, playing the devoted boyfriend, the kind who comes home to someone after work.
It wasn't that he lacked tenderness; he just chose to share it with someone else.
Damian sat across the table, his legs crossed, buried in paperwork for the last thirty minutes, utterly ignoring her presence.
Picking up her purse, Ashley said, "Looks like you're busy today. I'll come back another time."
Finally, Damian's icy gaze landed on her. Instead of responding, he questioned, "And how much does your legal advice cost? Enough to meet your needs?"
Anticipating his harsh words, his personal jibes still struck a nerve. Smiling wryly, Ashley shot back with equal chill, "If Mr. Hearst is willing, more is always better. Isn’t that what the legal profession is all about; earning one’s keep?"
Abruptly, Damian reached out, his fingers gripping her delicate jaw, "You want money? Isn't there a better way? Spend a night with me. It's worth much more than any lawyer's fee."
Ashley’s brows furrowed, " Mr. Hearst, we're no longer husband and wife. What you're doing could be considered harassment."
"Oh? Setting boundaries now?"
She grabbed his wrist, twisting and struggling. She may not have had his strength, but she was agile. Twisting away, she broke free from his grasp. "You wanted the divorce, you set the boundaries, and now you're the one coming around. What's the game? Trying to renew a past romance?"
"Stop!"
She moved to leave, but he swiftly maneuvered around the chair, his long arm encircling her waist, and with a whirl, she was thrown to the wall.
As her eyes snapped open, she was met with the face of his anger.
"Why run? You think you can leave this office after I've found you?"
"What are you implying?"
"Think hard. Why did I ask for a divorce?"
Ashley had to stifle a laugh, "Since when do you need a reason to act? But if you insist on one, it's you're just despicable!"
Her words ignited the fury of Damian. Suddenly, he was on her, his lips pressing against hers, his teeth capturing her ceaselessly moving tongue, his anger pouring into the kiss, biting, and rolling her lips, each movement a deeper invasion of her mouth.
"Uh! Let... go..."
Damian pinned her struggling hands against the wall, his body's weight pressing down on her softer frame, the hard edge of his belt buckle rubbing against her skin.
Ashley's lips started swelling, the salty tang of blood overwhelming her mouth. Just when she thought she might suffocate, he released her, unsatisfied. "Ashley, you foolish woman!"
Taking a sharp breath through the pain, she cursed inwardly. What the hell was wrong with this man?
"Damian, I must be 'damn foolish' indeed to have ever married you!"
She'd been trapped in the Hearst family’s den for three years, a place as dangerous as a lair of wolves, where the days were memories she'd rather forget.
"Fine... fine..." Damian tried to stifle the flame inside him, repeating the word twice.
"Damian, you're the CEO of KM, surrounded by wealth and women. Why bother me?"
Why did he bother with her after casting her aside? Did his dissatisfaction run so deep that he needed to continue torturing her? But now, Ashley could only assume that Damian lacked the interest even to lay a hand on her.
She looked up at him, her eyes defiant and her laughter, even more defiant as she met his bloodthirsty gaze.
His grip tightened as if to crush her jaw. "You better not play any tricks in front of me. You know what happens to those who cross me."
Straightening her spine despite the soreness, her demeanor grew colder. "Like what happened to my brother?"
The fate of her brother and father was a perpetual agony for Ashley, a self-inflicted wound. That’s true, but if not for Damian’s meddling, would they have ended up like this?
"You!"
"Thump!"
Instinctively, Ashley shut her eyes, bracing for the slap she expected from Damian in his fury. Instead, the dull sound came from the wall behind her head.
Damian, known for his self-control, was internally thrown into a sea of rage by her taunt, and instead of striking her, his fist violently crashed into the wall.
His hand dripped with fresh blood, the crimson liquid trickling down his fingers, staining the plush carpet and splattering onto her shoes.
A sharp pain pierced Ashley's heart. She felt suddenly too weak to bear even the weight of a single drop of his blood.
Looking up, Ashley met his eyes squarely, piercing through the redness of his bloodshot stare, seeing the waves of rage rolling inside. "And to think, Damian, master of maintaining a poker face, could be provoked by mere words... Feeling guilty, are you?"
Tendons swelled in his neck as he clenched his teeth and roared furiously, "At least your elder brother is still alive."
Ashley burst into laughter; harsh, breathless chuckles. She slid down against the wall until she was crouching on the floor, trembling with laughter. "Thank you for sparing his life," she said between gasps. "What a pity, some will never see the sun again. Do your nightmares startle you awake at night? Oh wait, can you even fall asleep?"
Damian's gaze fell upon her tear-streaked, yet laughing face; a beautiful danger. The complicated expression did nothing to diminish her charms.
The prettier the woman, the more lethal the deception. How had he failed to recognize the dangerous black rose lying beside him in bed those years?
"Do you think you've covered all your tracks?"
The laughter faded from Ashley as she traced her delicate fingers over his, red staining her fingertips. "Damian," she said, tracing his hands, "these are the hands of a killer, aren't they?"
He straightened his trousers and crouched to meet her eye level, biting out each word with deliberate force, "My only regret is I didn’t take your life."