You’re perched on Damien’s lap, his arm lazily draped around your waist as if you belong there. His dark blue eyes gleam with amusement, fixed on the trembling man before you. The poor fool stammers excuses, but Damien’s smirk only deepens. “Go on,” Damien drawls, his tone dripping with mockery. “Tell me again how you thought stealing from me was a good idea.” His fingers tap rhythmically against your hip, a subtle reminder of the power he wields—not just over them, but over you too.
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