Virgin And Broken Daddy

Evelyn

Like the echoes of my broken heart still embedded deep within me, I recall the night Damon Hawke destroyed me as it seemed yesterday. That was the night I discovered his true nature and learned about his actual capabilities. Still, I have spent the years since persuading myself; it makes no difference. Yet it does.

Once upon a time, though, I loved him more than anything. He was all I could have wanted-a man with ambition, might, and a passionate passion capable of igniting a woman. He was everything I could have possibly needed.

He then betrayed me as well.

At first, it was minor-small lies, petty deceptions-until it all came down. He stole the wealth of my family, wrecked everything I had ever worked for, and left without even a cursory glance in my direction. I was simply yet another victim of his merciless quest for supremacy and riches.

But I'm back now, after years of brokenness and at last rebuilding myself from the ashes.

Returning to the scene from whence it began. The spot I promised him to pay for what he did to me. And I would do everything to cause him the suffering he put me through. Even if it means sliding back into his arms.

Though it means loving him once more.

Before the glass doors stands me, the striking Hawke Enterprises emblem shining in the sunlight. From the girl I once was-innocent, hopeful, trusting-the reflection peering back at me is alien. No, the woman staring at me now is scared, tough, and a survivor. Too much effort has gone toward being anything else.

The doors open automatically, and with every stride, my heels click across the marble floor, resonating across the building's magnificent foyer. Though I rarely notice, the glass walls give a clear view of the vast city. Already, my thoughts are on him-the man who destroyed my life-the one whose every breath reminds me of my downfall.

I am here primarily for one thing-revenge.

That will be more difficult than I had anticipated, though. I sense the weight of the past slamming down as soon as I enter the elevator. The familiar smell of his office-leather, expensive cologne, and power-fills my senses, quickens my pulse, and twists my stomach. I am not breathing.

I close my eyes, straighten myself, and will my hands stop shaking. I know the right thing to do. Not this time; I cannot allow my feelings to dictate to me. I'm in command this time.

The elevator doors slide open, and as I step out, my breath freezes in my throat.

Then I started to see him.

Damian Hawke.

Sitting behind a large desk, he is a flawless silhouette in a custom suit. For a moment, my body betrays me-his broad shoulders and dark, penetrating eyes precisely as I recall them. My pulse beats and my heart pauses as a tsunami of memories floods my brain. I drove them all away, though. I'm not here to once more get lost in him. Here I am to demolish him.

Unspoken anxiety buzzes in the air between us. His vision narrows, and for the first time in years I see the familiar flutter of recognition-the knowledge he recognizes me. And in spite of this, I get a tiny surge of something I despise myself for-desire.

"Evelyn," he says, his voice low and commanding, exactly as I recall. "I expected nothing from you."

I try to hide the bitter edge of my voice and say, "No one ever does." But right now I am here.

His eyes darted over me to evaluate. Though it still burns between us, the years of wrath, treachery, and pain that have molded us both smother the flames. I will keep myself from letting him see the way my heart is betraying me. I will myself hold his stare.

He moves toward the chair in front of his desk, "Have a seat." "What can I do for Evelyn?"

I inhale deeply and settle, not looking back. "I want a job," I say straightforwardly. "Here. at Hawke Enterprises.

Clearly startled, he arches an eyebrow. You really are serious?

"I'm quite serious."

His lips open to a knowing smile, as if he already solved me. And why would you want to work for me with all that transpired between us?

I give him a tight-lipped smile and slant forward slightly, the heat growing between us. "You and I both know others have suffered as well, not just you. But I have progressed. For past wounds, I am not here. Here I am to pick what is mine.

Leaning back in his chair, he studies me with an unreadable look. And just what precisely is that, Evelyn?

"I want you to regret everything you did to me," I say, my voice steely, slicing across the air like a sword.

His confident façade breaks the first time. Behind his eyes, I can glimpse something-probably guilt. He looks at me for a long time; the tension between us is practically intolerable, then he says.

"You believe that working here would damage me?" His voice low, almost a whisper, he asks. "You think you could cause me to experience what you experienced when I destroyed you?"

I hesitate at all." I do not only believe this. I am aware of that.

I found my spot in Hawke Enterprises not long after. I give my work the zeal I have never experienced before. Still, the spreadsheets, the meetings, the deals-none of which keep me awake at night. That's him.

Damon permeates everything-his voice, his touch, his presence. Every time I hear his footsteps or feel his eyes fixed on me, I am reminded of the suffering he brought about. Not enough, though, to break me. I have lived after breaking once. I won't go on a trip this time.

But the more I stay, the more I see that getting even is more complicated than I had assumed. Not the same man I used to know Damon is. He's more dangerous and colder. Every time I look into his eyes, he still shows the same fire burning between us. He observes me with an intensity that causes my pulse to rush.

And even if I detest it, it attracts me toward him.

Still, I cannot let myself overlook what he did to me. I refuse to let myself once more fall for him.

Damon and I have an obvious conflict. Every conference and every conversation is a struggle of wills. Then it happened-one night, just following a demanding day of meetings, he drew me into his office, his face strained with annoyance.

His voice was gravel. "I know what you're doing, Evelyn." "You pretend you don't care or that you don't want me, so you may destroy me. You are wrong, though.

I try to distance myself, but his hand closes around my wrist and stops me. "Let go of me, Damon."

"No," he says, snarling. "You wanted retribution, but you're really asking for something else."

Heat permeates the air between us, and despite all the warnings in my thoughts, I find myself approaching him. As his grasp releases, my pulse thunders in my ears, and his hand travels down to my waist, dragging me in. His lips hang perilously near me.

He breathes and says, "I never stopped wanting you, Evelyn. And you haven't either, either.

Before I could say anything, he closed the distance between us and kissed me. I open my mouth to object, to drive him away.

And the earth pauses.

The door opens, and a loud voice interrupts us as the kiss deepens.

"You consider me to not know?" From the doorway, the voice of a lady sings.

I stopped the cold. She then comes into view.

The ex-wife of Damon.

Evelyn's POS

I had forgotten how frightening this place could be. Over me, the steel and glass skyscraper rose like a contemporary castle. It was frigid, commanding, and totally unwelcome. But no, it was not the structure that sent my pulse pounding. It was him, the one who had broken my universe and left bits of me strewn throughout time. The man was not even aware I was returning.

Still to come.

I inhale deeply, pushing the air into my lungs, then walk through the whirl-around doors. My nose smells of polished wood and pricey leather. This site smells like money-and suffering. Past events slink up my spine, threatening to overwhelm me. I won't allow them, though. I can't. Not now, not when I have been so dedicated to burying the past and creating something stronger.

"Can I assist you?" The voice of the receptionist breaks me out of a dream.

I look at her and try a nice grin. "I came here to see Mr. Damon Hawke."

Her eyes flutter with identification, then halt momentarily. "Do you have an appointment?"

I say, my voice calm and silky, "I'm sure he'll make time for me." Surely.

The receptionist pauses, then takes up the phone, dialing a number before graciously but tensely smiling at me. Please take a seat. I will notify him.

I sit, my fingers tapping frantically on the soft chair's arm, but my face stays calm. I came here for a purpose, and I can't allow anything-including my own feelings-to get in the way.

As the elevator rings gently upon arrival, my heart pauses. The moment I have been fearing, and also the one I have been subtly yearning for. Rising out of the elevator, towering and commanding, in a slick black suit, I know who it is without looking at his face. The air around me changes, and I get a shock of electric tension throughout the space.

Damian.

He stays the same. Not very. Still the same strong jawline, the same piercing blue eyes that used to stare at me with so much love now only convey contempt. His posture is rigid and uncompromising, as though nothing could cause him to bend; his dark hair is well groomed. The billionaire businessman. cold, strong, untouchable.

I am not the same woman I was, though, before he departed.

I rise and try to keep my voice level. "We should have a conversation."

His eyes narrow to quickly identify me. His face, though, is not surprising-just the same apathetic one he used to show me when bored of me. when he lost interest.

"Ms. Harlow," he says in a flat, cold voice. "What a shock." I never would have imagined seeing you once more.

"You wouldn't," I say, lips twisting into a tight, under control grin. "I'm sure you have totally deleted me from your memory."

He laughs a little, without humor. "If you believe I have forgotten about you, you are mistaken. How could I?" His eyes flutter over me momentarily to note the change. The woman I have grown to be is not the innocent young lady he knew. His lips squeeze into a narrow line, and I can see his eyes hardening. "So, what's this about?"

I go forward, my eyes meeting him. "You owe Damon. For everything you snatched from me.

And here is his response. The smallest flaw is his generally cool manner. I saw his body getting motionless and his mouth closing. I suppose I could have startled him momentarily. nice.

He drops his voice to a low, deadly tone as he puts his arms around his chest. You will have to be more particular.

I meet his look, my heart racing as I feel the weight of the words I am about to speak. "Damon, you took everything from me. My family; my faith; my future. I was a pawn in your game; today I am coming to reclaim what is rightfully mine."

His eyes spark, and for a minute I detect regret-something I hadn't expected. Perhaps guilt is involved as well. It disappears as fast as it first showed, then his normal coldness takes the front stage.

"You're wasting your time," he adds, his voice icy. "You're mistaken if you believe you can reenter my life after all this time and expect me to care."

Though I want to yell at him or bite back, I keep cool. Losing control costs too much. Not now. "Damon, I am not begging for your attention. I'm asking for something you cannot purchase, far more precious."

His eyes narrow to focus closely on me. "What do you want?"

"Revenge," I say, the word coming out of my mouth more naturally than I could have hoped. "I'm here to wreck you the way you did me. One at a time.

Before he rapidly hides it with a smile, a flutter of something-probably anxiety-passes his face. "You're welcome to try."

I had an instant wave of gratification. I at last have him on the defensive-first in years. I approach closely, sensing heat between us. There is clearly tension, and I can practically taste the bitterness still boiling under both of our surfaces.

Quietly, my voice lowering, "I'm not just here to get back at you." "Damon, here I am to help you recall what you lost. I'm here to cause you the suffering you inflict upon me. And I'll ruin you when you fall in love once more."

I see his face change; the hardness in his gaze cracks only a little. "You think you can hurt me, Evelyn?" he . "You are only a lady. And I have progressed as well.

Something inside of me cracks. "You believe me to be the same innocent young woman you threw aside years ago? You believe I should be here asking for your pardon? My voice is harsh with rage. No, Damon." I'm not calling for begging. I'm compiling. Taking back what is rightfully mine. And you are going to pay for everything.

We merely look at each other for a single second-two individuals who once loved each other now caught in an angry and betrayed dance. Though I cannot let it show, my heart rushes and adrenaline floods me. Still to come.

Damon approaches closely, his breath warm on my flesh. "We'll see, Evelyn, how far your little idea gets. But never let yourself believe for a moment that you are the one making decisions.

I smile even as my chest flutters. "I already own, Damon."

Heart thumping, my mind racing, I turn on my heel and head toward the door. One thing is clear: I'm not backing down-though I'm not sure whether I'm ready for the storm I've just unleashed.

I hear him shout low and dangerously as I go to the door.

"Don't consider this to be over. It is still in the early stages.

My hand on the door handle, I freeze. I have done what?

I inhale deeply, then open the door and start down an unfamiliar road. The game started today. And I'm not sure if I'll win or lose.

My phone vibrates in my pocket as soon as I enter the hall. I get it out, my hands shaking just a bit. The instruction comes from an unidentified number:

"He is not the man you believe he is. You are engaging in fire play.

I fix the message, my head whirling. This implies something. Who forwarded it? And what will I find here?

Evelyn

The elevator doors glide open with a gentle chime, and a blast of frigid air sweeps out around me like a shiver from a past I have spent years trying to forget. The same air I breathed in naive times, when I believed Damon Hawke was my future. But that was prior to his ruining me.

Before he left with just shattered promises and a hollow heart.

I enter and the doors silently hum closed. The elevator rises; every story passes as the distance separating me from the world below increases. Though my face is an impervious mask, my hands feel clammy. Here there is no place for weakness. Not when I am going to meet the man I have spent years planning my retribution upon.

I am eager. That is what I tell myself.

I'm standing before a set of double doors, Hawke Enterprises' top brass offices, the moment the elevator chimes. I chew hard, iron still tasting in my mouth. On the other hand, I'm not sure what's waiting. One thing is certain, though: Damon is no more the man I once loved.

I draw in deeply and open the door.

He is right there. Beside the window, his back to me frames the view of the city below. He hasn't seen me yet; for a time, I just stand there, stopped by his appearance.

Damon..

He seemed chilly, remote, unrepentant the last time I saw him. Still, time has gone by now. Older and more difficult is the man before me. He has on a suit that exudes authority and control. Though he presents a polished front, I can detect the faint traces of tiredness in the shadow under his eyes.

Still, it strikes me even with all the time that has gone by. I experienced the same thing the first time I saw him-every time I saw him. a magnetic draw I had buried years ago.

"Who allowed you inside?" Like gravel rubbing against the inside of my chest, Damon's voice is harsh, low.

I am quiet at first. All that escapes is a long, almost breathless sigh; I want to say something cutting, something that cuts. I forward a step and his body stiffens.

"Did you not expect to see me?" My voice is hard, my eyes fixed on his broad back, the way his muscles flex beneath the cover of his suit.

His shoulders tense even more, then he turns slowly to meet my eyes. He takes me in like I'm a ghost from a past he's long buried; his lips form a tight line.

" WHY are you here, Evelyn?" Now his voice is cooler, and I can practically picture walls rising around him. Still, it is too late. I am nowhere and I have already crossed the boundary.

"Is that how you welcome an elderly lover, Damon?" I move in closer, slow purposefully. "After you wrecked everything I ever owned, you hardly bothered to call me. You basically left me to gather the fragments after you broke me. You now want to know why I'm here?

His jaw closes but he says nothing. There is just stillness between us-thick, stifling silence for a moment.

His thoughts are almost audible to me. The inquiries. The perplexity. Why am I back? He asks. Why, after all, have I returned? He let go without second thought, the woman. the lady he destroyed.

Actually, the truth is really straightforward.

I declare at last, "I'm here to make you pay," the words taste good in my mouth.

Damon's eyes darted, a flash of something I cannot really identify. Surprises Regret? Perhaps a modest bit of both.

"Pay?" he says again, his voice low, sinister. "For what, Evelyn?" For the errors I made years ago?"

I feel my anger growing in my chest. The same rage that has propelled me for so long. The same resentment that keeps me awake at night, wondering whether I will ever feel whole once more.

"You damaged me. You grabbed everything from my hand. My family, my tomorrow, my confidence. I will now also help you to experience it.

Though they are harsh, the statements are accurate. And I found life for the first time in years. I spent so long acting as though I didn't care, but now that I'm here, before him, I can't lie to myself any more.

Damon moves forward, never straying from my sight. His mouth tense, his expression is incomprehensible. Now that I can feel his breath on my skin, he is so near that shudder runs down my spine.

"You think you could injure Evelyn?" Right now his voice sounds like a growl, threatening. "You think you could waltz in here following everything, after I let you go, and evoke emotions in me? What exactly do you wish for?"

I want to fly forth in wrath. I want to shout that he doesn't get to control this, doesn't get me to doubt myself. But beneath the surface is another kind of want seething away. The one I have spent so long trying to overlook.

I find it difficult. Stronger than ever is the magnetic force that always existed between us. I fight the need to get his arms around me once more, the way they used to embrace me so tightly, so possessively. Close the distance between us. I am unable, though. I wouldn't. Not until I have what I arrived for.

I inhale deeply and back off to leave some feet between us.

"I'm here for something else, Damon."

His brow wrinkles, his face darkened with mistrust. "What Are you talking about?"

I say, "To destroy you," softly.

And for a second I believe I see a flutter of something real across his face. In regret? suffering But it's gone quickly, replaced by the cold, merciless millionaire who has never let anyone get too close.

"I have no idea what kind of game you believe you are playing, Evelyn," Damon adds, his voice now sharp. But you are running with fire here. And I am not the man you recall either.

The smile dragging at my lips is uncontrollable.

"Maybe you're not," I say back. Yet I am.

Knowing he's watching me and knowing that something in him is breaking, much like it did in me all those years ago, I turn to go. But I hear him talk once more before I get to the door.

"Evelyn"

I halt, palm on the doorknob.

His voice low, "I'm not the only one who's changed," he continues. "You believe you alone have been broken? You believe that only I have paid for the past?"

I turn nowhere. I can't. Knowing if I do will cause me to lose what I have fought so hard to rebuild.

"I'm not here to fix you," I continue, voice calm. Here I am to break you. Again all over.

I then leave his office, behind which I walk.

I am aware, though, he will be returning. He never fails.

The phone in my pocket vibrates as I enter the elevator and the doors close behind me. Pulling it out, I discover a solitary message from a number I don't know.

It freezes me in place and is brief, basic.

"I understand your true desire."

My pulse accelerating, I fixed my gaze on the screen.

Then still another message comes through.

"You're running a dangerous game, Evelyn."

The worst of all is also He is right, as I know.