Claimed By The Billionaire I Robbed

"Oh, you're too wild, Roxy. You're too chaotic, Roxy. You're just too damn much to handle!" Roxy mocked her ex, imitating his pathetic, whining voice right out loud.

She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. "What a total joke. The guy couldn't handle a real woman, so he dumped me over a stupid text message."

Roxy slammed her hand down on the wood, a sharp curse coming out through her teeth.

"Screw him and screw this cheap booze," she let out a harsh, bitter scoff, running a hand through her messy blonde hair. "Screw all of them."

She grabbed the glass and gulped it down whole, coughing slightly as the alcohol hit her throat.

She wanted to get completely wasted. She wanted to forget the way Leo had looked at her like she was a ticking time bomb instead of a girlfriend.

But tonight, for some annoying reason, her body was refusing to cooperate.

Her head felt clear, her reflexes were sharp, and she was just sitting there getting sober and angry.

Minutes passed and she still didn't get wasted. So she decided to go all out.

Just as she was reaching into her jacket to pull out some cash for another round, a fresh glass slid smoothly across the counter and bumped right against her hand.

It was a deep, darkliquid, smelling rich and expensive, definitely not the rotgut she had been drinking.

Roxy frowned, pulling her hand back. "Hey, I didn't order this."

The bartender didn't even look offended. He just wiped down the counter with a dirty rag, nodded his head toward the far end of the dimly lit room, and said, "It's from the gentleman over there."

Roxy narrowed her eyes, turning her head to follow the bartender's nod.

Sitting alone in a shadowed corner booth, half hidden by the dim lighting, was a man.

Even from a distance, he looked dangerous.

He wore a fine, tailored black shirt with the top buttons undone, and his sleeves were rolled up past his forearms, showing lean, powerful muscle.

He was slowly swirling a glass of neat whiskey, his dark eyes locked onto her with a heavy, stare that felt less like a pickup attempt and more like a predator tracking a rabbit.

She held his gaze for three long seconds.

She didn't smile, she didn't flutter her eyelashes, and she didn't look away shyly.

She just rolled her eyes, gave him a hard, middle-finger glare, and turned right back around to the bar.

"Stupid, arrogant boys," she muttered under her breath, pushing the expensive drink away from her like it was poison.

Little did she know, that exact flash of pure defiance, the way she looked at him like he was a minor annoyance instead of a god among men was the exact moment she signed her own death warrant.

Across the room, Damien Vance didn't look angry at all.

Instead, a slow, dark smile curved on his lips, his obsession locking onto her instantly.

About an hour later, Roxy shoved herself off the smelly barstool, swaying a little bit, before catching her balance.

She groaned, tossing a crumpled twenty dollar bill onto the wood.

"Shit," she mumbled, shaking her head in deep frustration. "I can't even get wasted even if I wanted to."

Muttering to herself about her useless body, she turned her back on the bar, pushed her way past the sweaty crowd dancing near the speakers, and shoved open the heavy metal exit doors into the cool night air, totally unaware that those dark eyes were following her every single step out into the dark.

The cool night air hit Roxy's skin like a splash of cold water, but it did nothing to cool down her boiling temper. She checked her watch.

Past midnight. No way in hell was she marching back to their cramped apartment right now.

Maya would be sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed, ready to launch into a two-hour lecture about Roxy's terrible life choices and ex's pathetic exit note.

Roxy let out a long, heavy sigh, digging her hands deep into her jacket pockets.

"Well," she muttered to the empty sidewalk, kicking a loose pebble across the pavement. "I guess to the hotel we go."

She turned the corner, walking with a fast, angry pace until she reached a sleek, upscale hotel with glowing glass doors.

It was way too expensive for her actual bank account, but that was never a problem for a high-level thief.

Stepping into the warm, brightly lit lobby, Roxy walked up to the front desk with all the cool, bored confidence of a billionaire's spoiled daughter.

When the clerk behind the desk smiled politely and asked for her name and identification, Roxy didn't flinch.

She reached into her hidden jacket lining, fished out a slim leather cardholder, and slid a plastic card across the marble counter.

The fake ID had a completely different name, a pristine hologram that looked 100% real, and an address three states over.

The clerk scanned it, typed a few keys into the computer, and handed over the room key without a single question.

Roxy flashed a bright, fake smile, grabbed the keycard, and headed straight for the elevators.

Roxy stepped off the elevator on the fourth floor, her heavy leather boots clicking softly against the expensive hallway carpet.

Even now, hours after the breakup text, her blood was still boiling hot.

"Stupid, spineless coward," she muttered under her breath, throwing her hands up in the air as she marched down the corridor.

"Two damn years, and he leaves a text message? What a complete joke of a..."

Right in the middle of her angry rant, the thick edge of her left boot caught squarely on a slightly raised seam of the hallway rug.

"Oh, shit..."

Her momentum pitched her violently forward, and she braced herself for a painful, ungraceful face-plant into the wooden door of her room.

But the impact never came. Instead, a wall of pure, solid muscle materialized out of nowhere, and a pair of fiercely possessive arms banded tightly around her waist, yanking her back up against a broad chest before she could even blink.

A low, deep voice rumbled right next to her ear, dripping with dark amusement.

"Careful. You might get hurt."

Roxy's breath hitched. She twisted her head back over her shoulder, her eyes widening slightly as she looked up.

It was him the dangerous, sharp-eyed stranger from the back of the bar.

She quickly caught her balance, stepping out of his grip and smoothing down her jacket with a casual shrug.

She forced an unbothered smile onto her face. "Um, well. Thank you."

He didn't move away. He just stood there, towering over her, his dark gaze locked onto her face like he owned the entire hallway. A slow, wicked smirk curved his lips.

"Your ex-boyfriend sounds like a complete asshole," he murmured, his hand casually sliding right back around her waist, pulling her against him with a possessive heat that left zero room to argue.

"Why don't you date me instead?"

Roxy froze for a split second, her eyes darting down to the hand gripping her hip, then back up to his intense, predatory face.

A thrill of reckless excitement buzzed through her veins.

He was arrogant, way too close for comfort, and completely unhinged.

Hmm, Roxy thought, a mischievous spark lighting up her green eyes. Well, this could be fun.

She let out a soft, teasing laugh, sliding her arms smoothly up and around his strong neck, letting her fingers brush against the collar of his shirt.

"Sure," she purred, flashing him a slow, dazzling smile that hid her wild intentions.

"What do you have in mind?"

Let's have some fun, she told herself, completely clueless that she was walking right into the jaws of a beast who had already marked her as his forever.

Damien's dark eyes flared with a sudden, dangerous intensity at her words, his grip on her waist tightening until she could feel the heat radiating through her clothes.

He liked the fire in her. Most women backed away or fluttered like nervous birds when he looked at them like this.

But Roxy? She leaned right into the danger, completely unaware of the trap she was walking into.

"Everything," Damien murmured, his voice a low, rough rasp that brushed against her skin like silk over a blade. "I have whatever you want."

Without breaking eye contact, he reached out with his free hand, pressing a black card key against the electronic lock of the suite door right beside them.

With a soft click, the heavy door swung open, revealing a massive, luxurious suite complete with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glowing city skyline.

Before Roxy could even process that he had unlocked a room right next to hers or entirely across the hall he swept her inside, kicking the door shut with a heavy thud that locked them away from the rest of the world.

Roxy's back hit the solid wood of the door, but Damien didn't crush her with his weight.

Instead, he caged her in, placing both palms flat against the door on either side of her head, leaning down so his face was inches from hers.

The scent of expensive cologne, sharp whiskey, and pure, raw power wrapped around her.

"You're playing a dangerous game, princess," Damien whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of her jawline, his touch both gentle and terrifyingly possessive. "And you have no idea who you're messing with."

Roxy's pulse spiked, a strange mix of adrenaline and thrill shooting through her chest.

She refused to look away, tilting her chin up to meet his dark gaze head on, her smile dripping with sweet defiance.

"Oh, please," Roxy teased, her hands resting lightly on his broad chest, feeling the steady, heavy beat of his heart.

"I love dangerous games. What's the matter, big guy? Scared of a little trouble?"

Damien's smile vanished, replaced by a dark, hungry look that made the air in the room suddenly feel very thin.

He didn't answer her with words. Instead, his head dipped down, capturing her lips in a kiss that wasn't a request, it was a claim.

The kiss was heavy, demanding, and entirely consuming.

It swept away any lingering thoughts of her useless ex or her angry sister waiting across town.

Roxy's breath hitched in the back of her throat, her fingers curling automatically into the fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back with a fierce, reckless matching energy.

He tasted like expensive whiskey and pure trouble, and for a girl who lived for the thrill of the edge, it was intoxicating.

Damien groaned low in his chest, a rough, dark sound of absolute satisfaction.

One of his large hands slid up from her waist, tangling firmly into her messy hair to tilt her head back and deepen the angle, while his other arm banded around her so tightly she felt completely fused to his frame.

He moved against her with a practiced, overwhelming dominance, making it entirely clear who was in control, even as Roxy fought back with every ounce of her own stubborn fire.

When they finally broke apart for air, Roxy's chest heaved, her lips swollen and her green eyes flashing with wild adrenaline.

Damien's gaze was locked onto her mouth, his pupils blown wide in the dim light of the penthouse entryway.

He looked like a man who had just found water in a desert and had no intention of ever letting go.

"Damn it," Damien murmured against her skin, pressing a hot, lingering kiss to the sensitive spot just below her jaw, making a delicious shiver run down her spine. "You are going to be the death of me."

"Good thing I'm an expert at surviving, then," Roxy breathed out, her voice a little breathless despite her best efforts to sound entirely cool and collected.

He pulled back just enough to look down into her eyes, that slow, wicked smirk returning to his lips.

Without a single word of warning, he swept one arm under her knees and hoisted her effortlessly into his arms.

Roxy let out a startled gasp, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders.

"Hey! Put me down, I can walk," she protested half-heartedly, though she didn't actually fight him off.

"Not a chance," Damien replied smoothly, carrying her deeper into the expansive suite toward the king-sized bed overlooking the glowing, sleepless city skyline.

"We are just getting started."

The room was heavy with a silent, breathless tension. Damien hovered above her, his broad frame crowding her space, his chest heaving as he looked down at Roxy's flushed, defiant face.

Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs, not out of fear, but from the intoxicating rush of the chase.

She looked up at him, a wicked, challenging glint in her eyes, her hands resting firmly on his broad shoulders.

"Alright stranger..." she breathed, her voice dripping with a sultry, reckless thrill. "Show me what you've got."

A dark smirk flickered across his lips, his eyes flashing with answering hunger. He leaned down, placing a firm, bruising kiss right beneath her jawline that made her gasp.

"Careful what you ask for," he murmured against her throat, his hands sliding down to trail possessively over her hips. "You wanted the thrill."

His words sent a wave of pure electricity straight to her core. Roxy loved the danger, loved the friction of matching wits with a man just as ruthless as she was.

Damien didn't give her another second to think. He claimed her mouth again, harder this time, his tongue demanding entry as his hand slid beneath the fabric of her clothes, stripping away the final barrier between them.

When his bare skin met hers, a sharp gasp ripped from Roxy's throat, fueling her adrenaline.

Damien was relentless, and she thrived on it.

He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, his fingers locking around hers in a bruising grip that left zero room for retreat.

His gaze held hers, fierce and unyielding, refusing to let her look away.

"It's Damien by the way" he said, his voice a low, primal vibration against her skin.

He drove into her in one swift, punishing thrust, sinking deep until there was no space left between them.

Roxy arched her back violently off the bed, a high, ragged cry escaping her lips as pleasure and heat exploded through her entire body.

Her toes curled into the sheets. Damien didn't give her time to recover, he instantly set a heavy, unforgiving rhythm, driving into her again and again with a fierce, possessive power that shattered her mind to pieces.

The bed frame creaked loudly against the wall, echoing the frantic beat of her heart.

She dug her fingernails into his forearms, riding every wave of friction, lifting her hips to meet every brutal strike he delivered.

He was relentless, his chest slick with sweat, his jaw clenched tight as he pushed her further and further past her limits.

Every thrust was a claim. Every breathless groan he let out against her skin felt like a vow.

"Ah...please...no more..." she choked out, her head tossing back against the pillows as the overwhelming tension built tightly in her lower stomach.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dark and demanding as he picked up the pace, going faster, deeper, leaving her completely undone beneath him. "Look at me when you break."

She locked her eyes onto his. Seeing the raw, obsessive hunger burning in his dark gaze was the final trigger.

A loud, shattered scream tore from her throat as the climax ripped through her body like an electric current.

Waves of intense, blinding pleasure crashed over her, making her inner walls pulse tightly around him.

Damien let out a deep, groan driving into her one last, deep time before sinking completely into her heat, his body trembling violently above hers as he released inside her.

He collapsed against her chest, his heavy weight pressing her into the mattress, his rapid heartbeat hammering against her own.

He kept himself buried deep inside her, his arms wrapped around her waist in a tight, suffocating grip, refusing to let her go even a fraction of an inch.

Roxy wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, resting her forehead against his wet neck, breathing in his scent as the quiet settled back into the dark room.

Tomorrow, they'd both go their separate ways.

Sunlight poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel room, cutting bright lines across the expensive sheets.

Damien woke up instantly, his dark eyes snapping open with absolute clarity.

His hand slid across the empty mattress beside him, searching for the warmth of her body.

"Jessica?" he muttered, his voice thick with morning sleep."Did she leave already?"

The bed was completely cold.

He blinked, turning his head toward her side.

The space was empty, save for a crumpled hotel notepad resting right on the dark wood nightstand.

Damien let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated deep in his chest.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. So she had slipped out before dawn and left him, thinking she would never see him again. She actually thought she had won.

He reached over and picked up the note, his eyes scanning her messy, hurried handwriting.

I had fun last night and thanks for the wallet.

Damien stared at the words, the smirk on his face turning into a look of absolute, unhinged fascination.

His thumb traced the edge of the paper. She hadn't just left him and run away like a ghost, she had actually picked his pocket while he slept.

She had stolen from him and thought she could just walk away. His obsession spiked to a whole new level.

"You really are something else, princess," he whispered to the empty room.

He leaned back against the pillows, the sheets rustling around his broad shoulders.

Without breaking his intense gaze from the ceiling, his hand dropped to the nightstand, picked up his encrypted phone, and tapped the speed dial.

The line connected on the very first ring.

"Boss?" a tight, professional voice answered from the other side.

Damien's voice dropped into a smooth, commanding ice. "I want you to find someone for me."

Roxy turned the key in the lock of their cramped apartment door as quietly as a mouse, slipping inside just as the morning sun began to peek over the city skyline.

She closed the door behind her, let out a silent breath of relief, and took exactly one step toward the hallway.

"Where do you think you're going?"

A sharp, flat voice cut through the quiet air like a knife.

Roxy froze, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling before slowly turning around.

Her older sister, Maya, was standing by the kitchen counter with a mug of black coffee in her hand, looking like a warden ready to throw her in solitary confinement.

Roxy forced a bright, innocent smile. "Good morning to you too, sister."

"Don't start that," Maya snapped, taking a slow sip of her coffee while narrowing her eyes. "Where were you last night?"

"Out with some friends," Roxy replied smoothly, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.

Maya scoffed, setting her mug down hard enough to rattle the ceramic. "Oh, please. You? Friends? Don't make me laugh."

"Rude," Roxy muttered under her breath.

Before Roxy could slip past her toward the bedroom, Maya's gaze dropped.

Her eyes locked onto a dark, purplish bruise peeking out just above the collar of Roxy's shirt.

Maya's jaw dropped, and her coffee mug nearly slipped from her hand.

"Oh, my God," Maya whispered, her voice rising in pure disbelief. "Roxy, did you sleep with someone?"

Roxy instinctively reached up, scratching the back of her head as a faint, defensive flush crept up her neck. She shrugged, trying to play it cool.

"I just wanted to have a little fun."

"Fun?" Maya threw her hands up, her face turning bright red with anger.

"Roxy, you know we're on the run! You know the police are actively hunting us down for that last job, and you're out here having reckless one-night stands with total strangers?"

Roxy just offered a lazy shrug, marching past her sister as if she hadn't a single care in the world.

"Relax, Maya. He's just some spoiled rich boy. We won't cross paths with each other again, and besides, I don't even remember what he looks like anymore, so chill."

"Roxy, this is reckless," Maya shot back, spinning around to track her movements.

"If we get caught, it's game over. You have to take this seriously. Don't forget what we are."

"A couple of baddies?" Roxy grinned brightly, tossing her jacket onto the back of the sofa.

"No, Roxy, this is serious."

"Relax, sis. Don't start acting like a mom."

Maya pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long, heavy sigh.

"This girl is going to be the death of me."

Maya looked up just in time to see Roxy flashing an unrepentant, wicked grin.

Maya's eyes narrowed, curiosity suddenly cutting through her annoyance. "Ugh, what'd you score?"

Roxy's smirk widened. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a sleek, heavy leather wallet made of fine, expensive material. "A wallet."

"You robbed the guy you spent the night with?" Maya hissed, though she leaned in closer as Roxy flipped it open.

"He's really loaded," Roxy laughed, pulling out a thick stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills and tossing the empty, high-end designer wallet straight into the kitchen trash can without a second thought.

Roxy fanned the cash out in her hand, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"What do you say we get pizza for breakfast?"

Maya looked at the thick stack of cash, then at the empty designer wallet sitting in the trash, and let out a defeated laugh, shaking her head.

"You are completely insane, you know that?"

"Insane, but rich enough for extra cheese," Roxy grinned, already pulling out her phone to order the biggest pizza on the menu.

"Come on, live a little. We survived another night, Leo is officially ancient history, and we've got cash to burn."

Maya picked up her coffee mug again, watching her little sister with a mix of affection and deep, lingering worry.

"Just promise me you're going to keep your head down for a few days, Roxy. The cops are still sniffing around the district after that warehouse job. If anyone matches your face to that fake ID's you've been using, we're done."

"Nobody is matching anything," Roxy said dismissively, waving a hand in the air as she tapped through her phone screen.

"The ID was clean. The guy was just a drunk, rich distraction. Everything is fine."

Meanwhile, across town in a heavily guarded, soundproof office at the top of a private skyscraper, Damien Vance was standing by a floor-to-ceiling glass window.

His lead investigator stepped into the room, holding a tablet and looking noticeably tense.

"Boss. We tracked the hotel record. She checked in under the name Jessica Williams obviously fake. The ID she used was a master-tier forgery. It cleared the hotel's system, but when my guys ran the serial numbers through our private database, it pinged a cold file."

Damien didn't turn around. He took a slow sip of his neat whiskey, his eyes scanning the city below like a lion watching his territory. "Go on."

"I've scanned through every identity that matches your description but I couldn't find out her real identity. She's practically a living ghost."

"It would take us a long time to track her down."

A heavy silence filled the room. Then, a dark, dangerous smile slowly spread across Damien's face.

"A ghost," Damien murmured softly, staring at his reflection in the glass. He set his glass down on the desk, his obsession locking into place like a steel trap.

"Find out her real name. Find out where she sleeps, what she eats, and who she loves. I want everything."

"Yes boss."

Damien's eyes darkened, a predatory glint flashing in the dim light.

"Take months if you have to. Do it right. Because when I finally find her, I want to make sure she never slips out of my hands again."