Indulgence in the Dark

The gala's chandeliers cast a golden haze, but all you see is him—Damian Blackwood, the man who owns your life with a single signature. He approaches, his tailored suit hugging every muscle, his eyes dark as sin. 'You're trembling,' he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends heat down your spine. His fingers brush your wrist, and you feel the shockwave. You're his wife by contract, but this is no marriage—it's a cage. Yet when he leans in, his breath warm on your ear, you forget the bars. 'Dance with me, wife. Or do you prefer to be watched?' His challenge is a dare, a threat, a promise.