𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

5

As the car rolls to a stop in front of the upscale restaurant, I reach for the door handle, eager to escape the confines of the backseat. But before my fingers can even touch the door handle, Damien's strong hand clamps down on my wrist, halting my movement.

"Not so fast, sweetheart."

I turn to face him, and he leans in close, his lips nearly brushing my ear. "From now on, you go by, Cat."

I blink in confusion, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Cat?" I ask, my brow furrowing.

Damien's eyes narrow, his grip on my wrist tightening almost painfully. "Yes, Cat. Not just anyone should know your full name. Plus, it suits you. A sexy little pet name..."

I shouldn't question Damien any further, so I simply nod, lowering my gaze. "Cat," I purr, testing out the new name. "Got it."

A smile spreads across his face, and he releases my wrist, trailing his fingers up my arm in a light caress. "Good girl," he whispers, leaning in close again, and nipping lightly at my earlobe before pulling away.

His words send some sort of...feeling through me, even as a part of my mind screams that this is wrong, that I shouldn't let him touch me like this, talk to me like this. But that part is quickly silenced by the rush of heat that floods my body at Damien's praise.

He exits the car first, then turns and offers me his hand. I take it, allowing him to help me out onto the sidewalk. The moment I'm steady on my feet, Damien wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. His hand rests low on my hip as he guides me towards the entrance, his fingers tightening possessively against my skin.

As Damien and I walk into the restaurant, I can feel all eyes immediately turning towards us. His business partners, seated at a large table in the center of the room, watch our every move. Their gazes stay trained on me, taking in my appearance from head to toe.

I feel so exposed, on display for their scrutiny. I want to squirm and cross my arms over my chest and hide from their intrusive staring. But I know I can't show any discomfort. Damien expects me to play my role to perfection. So I keep my head high and a smile fixed in place.

As we reach the table, Damien places a hand on the small of my back,"Gentlemen," he greets them, his voice smooth as silk. "I'd like you to meet Cat, my new companion."

I force my smile to widen, channeling my years of practice at being the perfect, obedient wife. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," I say sweetly, my voice steady despite my nerves.

The men nod in acknowledgment, their expressions ranging from mildly interested to openly leering. I let my gaze move over each of them, taking in their appearances. Some are older, their faces weathered and hardened like leather left out in the sun. Others are younger, slick and polished in their expensive suits. They have the air of hungry wolves, their smiles sharp, their gazes predatory.

Damien pulls out a chair for me, and I sink down into it. Damien takes the seat next to me and immediately scoots my chair closer to his own, eliminating any hint of personal space. He drapes an arm around my shoulders, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my upper arm. It's a gesture, one that clearly marks me as his property.

My daughter's life depends on me getting close to him. So I swallow down the racing thoughts of sin and lean into Damien's touch. It's a small price to pay for the chance to hold my baby girl again.

Damien reaches over and grabs a menu, placing it in front of me. "Order whatever you want," he murmurs. "Price is no object."

I nod and glance over the menu, filled with elegantly named dishes I've never heard of before. Shakshuka, Eggs Benedict, Steak Tartare...it all looks too fancy for my tastes, but my stomach is rumbling from hunger pangs. The scents wafting from the kitchen aren't helping either.