Dark Desires

chapter 11

Melania
He pulls over the bike at my place.I get off the bike carefully.I mean I was fucking butt naked sitting on his bike,So disgusting.
Damon retains possession of my underwear, tucking it casually into his pocket.

I return his helmet, and he smirks knowingly. Offering a small wave, I say, “Goodbye, Damon. Thank you for the ride.”

He pulls me closer, his voice soft. “Don’t forget this,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. Embarrassed, I flush and glance away.

“Goodbye. Love you,” he adds.

Smiling, I respond, “Tell Sarah I missed her.”

I quickly make my way inside the mansion. As I step through the front door, the atmosphere feels markedly different. The air is thick with the scent of intoxicating cologne. After a few strides, I finally catch sight of the source—my father, Jonathan Evers, the renowned CEO of Evers Technology.

“Dad!” I exclaim, rushing toward him with open arms. “I missed you. How was the business conference?”

He smiles warmly, enveloping me in his embrace. “My doll, it was productive. But it’s never as enjoyable without you. I often find myself wishing your mother were still with us.”

At the mention of my mother, my heart sinks. She passed away far too young, succumbing to cancer when I was only five. My memories of her are faint, yet she remains the most beautiful woman I have ever known. My parents met during their university years, their love story one I’ve heard countless times.

My father’s voice draws me back. “Call everyone downstairs. I need to discuss something important.”

I nod and ascend the grand staircase, heading to Vaughn’s room. He emerges, accompanied by his wife Jenna and their two children, Valentina and James. “Dad’s here,” I announce.

Valentina and James eagerly trail behind me. I scoop James into my arms and proceed to Oliver’s room. He’s painting by the window, fully immersed in his work.

“Knock, knock. Dad’s calling for a family meeting. It sounds important,” I inform him.

Oliver sets down his brush, and we all gather in the living room. I settle into the plush sofa with Valentina clinging to my side, while James perches comfortably on my lap.

My father begins. “Vaughn, I have concerns regarding your involvement in the underground society. Is this truly the livelihood you envision for yourself? Damon’s influence may not be as positive as you believe.”

Vaughn’s eyes narrow. “Dad, yes. And Damon isn’t a bad person. He simply has a troubled past.”

My father’s gaze sharpens. “Well, regardless, you appear to have made your choice. I am considering the future of the company. I intend to appoint Oliver as the next CEO of Evers Technology. Vaughn, you will oversee other aspects of the family legacy.”

He shifts his attention to me. “Melania, are you willing to take on a role in the company’s future?”

I hesitate. “Dad, I believe it’s too soon. I want to pursue further education—perhaps a master’s degree in technology. I know you’ve always supported my academic ambitions.”

My father’s tone grows firm. “Melania, that won’t be possible. I want you to settle down—find a job, marry, and start a family. The same applies to you, Oliver. I know you are gay, but I love all my children equally, and that won’t change.”

Shock washes over me. “But, Dad, I’m not ready for marriage.”

He shakes his head. “You will be. I’ve already arranged a marriage for you. Derek Watson, CEO of Watson Estate, will be your husband. This union will solidify our business interests.”

Vaughn’s face darkens with fury. “Dad, she’s far too young. And Derek? He’s 52 and notorious for his behavior. You can’t seriously consider handing Melania over to him. This is her life—her future. Don’t ruin it.”

Overcome with anger, Vaughn storms out. Tears well in my eyes as Jenna offers a reassuring hand.

My father remains resolute. “The wedding will take place in six months.”

Feeling helpless, I quietly whisper to Jenna that I intend to leave for a friend’s house. I text Maeve, informing her I will be staying at Damon’s. I instruct her to tell my family I’m with her if they inquire.

Without further thought, I slip out of the mansion. The clock reads 7:30 PM. I catch the next bus and watch as the bright city lights fade into the distance. The bus eventually stops near a secluded forest area, and I disembark, walking the short distance to a large wrought-iron gate. Damon prefers isolation, far removed from the bustle of society.

A security guard halts me at the entrance. “I’m Vaughn’s sister,” I explain.

After a brief hesitation, he grants me entry. I stroll through the meticulously maintained garden, marveling at the beauty of Damon’s estate. I had not noticed its grandeur during my previous visits. A large fountain graces the front of the mansion, its cascading water reflecting the moonlight.

Knocking on the front door, I am greeted by Stephanie, a housemaid in her fifties.

“Miss Melania, it’s been quite some time. Lovely to see you,” she greets warmly.

I smile in return. “It’s good to see you too. Is Damon home?”

“He isn’t. He should return around 10 PM. Sarah is upstairs. You might consider freshening up—Damon left some clothes for you, anticipating you might stay over.”

I pause. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Stephanie leads me to Damon’s room. “Why not the guest room?” I inquire.

She smiles knowingly. “Sir instructed me to prepare his room for you. He personally selected the clothes for you—they’re in his wardrobe.”

Flustered, I blush. “May I ask your name?”

“Stephanie. You can call me Stephy.”

Alone in Damon’s room, I browse through the wardrobe. The scent of his cologne lingers on the fabric. The clothing fits perfectly—size 10 for tops, 12 for jeans. Damon somehow knows my measurements with uncanny accuracy. Even the lingerie he purchased matches flawlessly—delicate lace, size 36A.

After showering, I change into a soft pink lace set and comfortable pajamas. I make my way to Sarah’s room, playing with her until she begins to drift off.

Cradling her gently, I carry her to Damon’s room, settling her into the small crib placed by his bed. She sleeps soundly against me, her tiny hands clutching the bottle I feed her from.