Chapter 4 Triggers and Temptations

Veronica's POV

I didn't sleep.

Not really.

The silk sheets were too smooth and the room was too silent making my own skin aware of the belt still lying beside me untouched, yet pulsing like a threat.

Or a promise.

Every time I closed my eyes, I heard his voice. You belong to me now. And every time I opened them, I was reminded that I was no longer free. Not in the way I used to be. Maybe not even in the way I thought I wanted.

But I wasn't a victim.

Not yet.

When morning light came, I stood determined not to cower.

My fingers hesitated over the closet's handle. Would he have filled it too? Telling me what to wear and what image to become?

I opened it slowly.

Rows of silk, lace, leather again. Hangers full of designer pieces I couldn't even pronounce. And in the center, hanging like a crown jewel, was a sheer black robe with velvet ribbon ties.

My fingers brushed over it, and I hated how soft it felt.

But I wore it.

Because he wanted me to?

No. Because I chose to play this game on my own terms.

My version of control.

---

Damien's POV

I watched her from the screen, her posture sharper than the night before. The robe clung to her like temptation itself, but it was her spine I studied-straight, defiant, unbroken.

Good girl.

Still fighting.

I closed the feed and left my office.

Time to test her edges.

I found her in the sunlit kitchen, pouring herself coffee like she owned the place.

"You're supposed to wait for me to serve you," I said as I stepped inside.

She didn't flinch. Just turned, met my gaze, and sipped slowly.

"I was thirsty."

My cock twitched.

I walked toward her with measured steps, noting how her grip tightened on the mug. Her breath stilled when I reached behind her, caging her with my arms as I opened the cabinet. My body brushed against hers. Deliberate.

She didn't move.

"I like my women obedient, Veronica."

"And I like my coffee black," she replied, eyes sparkling with something dangerous. "Looks like we both have preferences."

God, this woman.

She wasn't breaking.

She was blooming.

And I was going to ruin her.

Beautifully.

---

Veronica's POV

He was too close.

Too solid. Too intoxicating.

I hated how my skin lit up wherever he hovered. Like I was made of nerves and he was fire.

"Do you always watch your women?" I asked, not moving as his arm lingered near mine.

His lips twitched. "Only the ones I want to keep."

Keep?

Like a possession?

A pet?

I bristled.

But instead of reacting, I leaned in until our mouths were nearly touching.

"Then maybe I should make you work for me."

His eyes darkened like a storm rolling in.

He didn't kiss me.

Didn't touch me.

Instead, he stepped back.

"Good. We'll start with your first punishment tonight."

My blood ran cold.

"What did I do?"

"You questioned your place."

"I'm not your toy," I snapped.

"No," he said, voice like velvet soaked in danger. "You're my submission. And I intend to earn it... one layer at a time."

---

Damien's POV

Julian Ward's note still sat on my desk.

I hadn't told her about him.

Yet.

But I would.

Soon.

After I reminded her who she belonged to.

That night, I entered her room without knocking.

She was standing at the vanity, brushing her hair in nothing but that robe.

Perfect.

"You disobeyed."

Her gaze met mine in the mirror. "I made coffee."

"That's not what I mean."

I walked up behind her, taking the brush from her hand without asking. I began to stroke through her hair myself in an intimate slow and rhythmic way

"You challenged me," I said.

She exhaled. "And you liked it."

My grip tightened slightly.

"Yes. But there are still rules."

I let the brush fall to the vanity.

"On the bed. Face up. Hands above your head."

She hesitated.

But only for a second.

Then she obeyed.

God help her.

Because I wouldn't.

---

Veronica's POV

The mattress was cool beneath my back.

My pulse roared in my ears as I raised my arms over my head, waiting for him.

His presence loomed beside me, dark and unrelenting.

A silk tie slipped around my wrists, binding me gently.

Not cruel.

Not rough.

But final.

His fingers were along my thigh. "Tonight is not about pain," he said.

I swallowed. "Then what?"

"Control."

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the inside of my knee.

I flinched.

Not because it hurt.

Because it didn't.

Because it was soft.

Because it made me feel everything.

He worked his way upward-mouth, fingers, breath. Never quite touching where I wanted. Never giving me enough.

"Please," I whispered.

"No," he murmured against my hipbone. "You haven't earned that yet."

---

Damien's POV

Her thighs trembled.

Her breath came in shallow gasps.

But she hadn't begged.

Not fully.

I wouldn't take her until she meant it.

Until she stopped using her defiance as armor.

Until she gave me not just her body, but her surrender.

I climbed beside her and whispered in her ear.

"Sleep like this."

She turned her head, stunned. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I-" She stopped, lips parting, disbelief flickering.

"You said I like control. You were right. But now, I want you to feel it."

I kissed her temple.

She didn't fight.

She didn't speak.

But I saw it in her eyes the war raging inside her.

And I knew.

Tomorrow, she'd crack.

And when she did...

She'd never want freedom again.

---

Veronica's POV

I couldn't sleep.

Bound and burning, I stared at the ceiling.

His scent still lingered on my skin.

And my body still throbbed with need.

But what terrified me most...

Wasn't the tie around my wrists.

It was the part of me that didn't want it gone.

What was happening to me?

Why did his voice in my head feel like comfort?

Why did I crave his hands, even when they didn't touch me?

I was falling.

Not in love.

No. Never that.

But into something dark and irreversible.

And just as my eyes finally began to close-

A scream echoed through the hall.

Female.

Sharp.

Terrified.

I jerked upright, heart racing.

Damien was already gone.

And I realized...

I wasn't the only woman in this house.