Chapter 2 The Deal Lifetime

The headboard crashed over and over into the wall, the crashes ringing through the huge penthouse like a drumbeat. Damon barely registered it. He held on to her hips tightly as he pumped hard into her with deep thrusts.

The room was filled with the sound of her loans but it barely registered in his head. The sounded like a faint background music.

His body was here, yes. But his mind? His heart? They were elsewhere, trapped in a space he no longer visited.

"Oh my gosh! I want you deeper. Go harder." He moaned into his ears.

Without uttering a word, he provided her with what she desired. Not because he wanted to oblige her. Not because he loved her. No, he needed something - the numbness of losing himself in the body. He needed to burn off the restlessness that had been eating away at him since his dad issued that ultimatum.

She came with a lid cry and soon after he followed but despite it all, despite the pleasure. He still felt numb. Still felt empty.

Just another night.

She made a move to wrap herself around him, trying to get some form of intimacy something he didn't plan on sharing. He shrugged her off and climbed down from the bed. He picked up his boxers from the floor and put them on.

"Take your stuff and get lost." He said, his voice cold and distant as he reached to take his jeans.

"Are you serious?" She started to say. Her voice trembling and hurt flashing through her eyes.

Damon didn't break stride. He grabbed a thick envelope on the dresser and threw it at her. It dropped with a heavy clunk. "There's your bonus. Take it and get out."

He did not care to glance at her when she packed her belongings. The door slammed shut a couple of minutes later, and he was left alone with the silence.

Damon looked over at the mirror on the other side of the room, his own face glaring back at him. His was set, his dark hair mussed, his body still tensed. But his eyes were what shocked him. They were tired. Tired in a way that had nothing to do with lack of sleep.

He was tired of it. Tired of the meaningless nights, the nameless bodies, the endless cycle.

He couldn't stop. He needed to finalize this surrogacy contract in a hurry. His father's threat was still ringing in his head - give him an heir, or lose it all.

He looked at his Rolex. Peter, his business associate, would already be in the lobby with the client.

Raking his hand through his hair, Damon pulled his shirt back into place and grabbed his blazer off the chair. His feet remained stable as he strode towards the private elevator.

This was business. No games.

And it was time to seal the deal.

---

The cafe was too bright for Damon's mood. The sun filtered in through the large windows, bouncing off every shiny surface, making everything too happy. It annoyed him.

He slid into a corner table, his tall self sprawling out on the bench as he rested back against it and adjusted the dark sunglasses over his eyes. His eyes fell on the woman seated across from him.

She wasn't at all what he'd expected.

Sasha Lane was completely out of place in this high end coffee shop. She wore a faded blue hoodie with holes in it over frayed jeans. Her black curls were pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her face wore no makeup other than the look of lip balm. No fake eyelashes. No designer wallet. No pretenses.

Plain, raw, and stubborn.

Her brown eyes challenged his head-on, serene yet wary, like she was trying to measure him up just the way he was trying to measure her up. She wasn't fidgeting with her hands. She wasn't batting lashes or pretending she was shy. She sat tight and straight, hands clasped together in her lap.

Hmm.

Peter, as professional as it gets, cleared his throat. "Mr. Reyes, this is Ms. Lane. Ms. Lane, Mr. Reyes."

Sasha extended her hand stiffly across the table. Damon refused to take it. Instead, he pushed his chair back further, regarding her openly, refusing even to pretend to cover.

"Why are you here, Miss Lane?" His voice was relaxed, but the statement was laden with significance.

Sasha did not flinch. "I need the money," she answered curtly.

A small smile played on the lips of Damon. At least she was honest. The majority of women in such a circumstance would have confessed some tear jerking tale, tugging at heartstrings in an effort to appear noble or desperate.

"Straight to the point," he said, tapping his fingers against his table lazily. "Most women at least pretend to have other agendas."

Her teeth gritted, but her voice remained steady. "My father needs to have an operation. It will cost twenty million. I don't have the time or the energy to lie."

There was a ferocity behind her words. Not just desperation - but determination.

Damon felt something stir in his chest, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Not quite excitement. Not desire. Maybe... respect. Or curiosity. Maybe both.

"And you'll sell your body for it?" he asked, his voice dropping, more teasing now.

Her cheeks pinked slightly, but she didn't look away. Instead, she lifted her chin, her voice even firmer. "I'm renting out my womb. Big difference."

A slow, sardonic smile stretched Damon's lips.

God, he liked her already.

Peter shifted restlessly alongside them, pulling a thick folder from his briefcase and shoving it across the table to Sasha.

"The entire contract is there," Peter said curtly. "It's got compensation, medical expenses, confidentiality clauses-"

Damon held up a hand, stopping him. He didn't care about paperwork at the moment. His gaze never left Sasha's.

"I'll make it simple," he replied, his voice grimmer, more intense. "You'll be having my child. You'll follow every order of every doctor to the letter. Once the baby's born, you'll disappear from my life. For this, you'll get your twenty million - maybe a little extra, if you're good."

Sasha raised her brows slightly. "And what happens if I'm not so good?" she asked, her voice level but curious.

Damon leaned in, his elbows on the table, lowering his voice until it was barely above a whisper. "Then you'll find out exactly how ruthless a Reyes can be."

Their eyes locked. The tension crackled between them like electricity in the air just before a storm.

Sasha's heart hammered against her ribs, but she held her ground. She knew this man was dangerous. Arrogant. Cold as ice. But he was also exactly what she needed.

She had no choice.

"For my father," she thought. For the man who had sacrificed everything for her.

Slowly, she nodded. "I'll do it."

The words felt heavy on her tongue, but once they were out, there was no turning back.

Peter pushed the pen towards the left of her, opening the contract to the correct page. Her hand quivered a little as she took the pen, but she willed it steady.

"Here," she said, scribbling the signature on the dotted line.

Sasha signed the document, signing away her destiny.

As she placed the pen back and pushed the folder away, an icy chill traveled down her spine. A warning. An intuition that she couldn't quite suppress.

Somehow, deep within her heart, she knew she hadn't just sealed a business deal today.

She sold her soul to the devil himself.

And it would be Damon Reyes who would hold the chains.