C12 Twelve

~Bianca's POV~

His breath ghosted across my cheek—warm, steady, and far too intentional.

I couldn't move with my back pinned to the marble, Damien's body boxing me in like a wall I couldn't climb. My heart thundered against my ribs, every instinct screaming to run, yet my body refused to obey.

"What… what are you doing?" I finally asked, my voice more breath than sound.

He arched a brow like the question was amusing. "What do you think I'm doing?" he murmured dangerously. "Didn't you offer yourself to me this morning like a common slut?"

The word sliced through me, making me flinch. Heat and shame collided inside me, but I forced my chin up. "I did what I had to do," I snapped, "don't mistake that for interest." I shoved at his chest but he didn't budge. "And I haven't agreed to anything yet, so you have no right to corner me like this. Especially at a dinner hosted by my husband."

That word—husband—tasted sour.

Damien didn't move one bit. He just stared down at me, studying me like a specimen. "Your husband," he repeated slowly. "Funny. Because from what I observed, your beloved husband was downstairs entertaining his little side project in red lipstick."

My stomach turned. "Nathan may be a liar and a cheat," I said, "but I'm not him. I don't sleep my way through power plays."

A slow smirk curled at his mouth. "Could've fooled me," he muttered. "You begged me earlier today, remember?" He lifted his hand and traced a line from my jaw to my collarbone. I slapped it away.

"What is your endgame, Damien?" I spat. "Why give Nathan a deal? Why corner me? What do you get out of all this?"

His eyes flicked to my lips, then back to my eyes.

"I always get what I want," he murmured. "And you, Bianca… you'll look absolutely breathtaking on your knees."

I gasped. "You're disgusting."

But my body—traitorous, weak—sizzled at his words. I hated it. Hated him. And hated myself more for how my pulse danced to his rhythm.

"You don't even know if I'm going to say yes," I said, trying to inject steel into my voice. "Yet, here you are acting like you've already won."

Leaning in, his mouth brushed the shell of my ear. "Oh, I have."

Then he ground his hips into mine—slow and punishing. I bit down on a gasp, my breath catching in my throat.

"And when I have you," he whispered, "I'll break you in ways Nathan never could."

He stepped back like nothing happened. Straightened his cuffs and fixed his suit.

"Come down," he said, all business now. "Wouldn't want to miss the show."

Then he left, and I stayed frozen—shaken, flushed, humiliated.

When I finally stepped back into the hallway, I looked put-together. But inside, I was a live wire, fraying.

The dinning hall buzzed with polite laughter and wine glasses clinking when I re-entered. Damien was already seated, Elena curled beside him like a trophy, fingers trailing his lapel. Nathan sat opposite them, jaw clenched, eyes fixed anywhere but their direction.

I took my seat, and then Damien stood. The room fell quiet.

"Now that we're all here," he said smoothly, "let's discuss the reason for tonight's dinner—our new partnership."

Cecilia nearly squealed, her hands clasped in delight. Nathan straightened with a practiced smile. "Yes! Right—your call earlier caught me off guard, but I'm thrilled. What's the offer?"

Damien nodded once and a man in black stepped forward and placed a heavy file in front of Nathan.

"I've kept a close eye on your business, Nathan," Damien said. "Your expansion is promising. I think this arrangement will be mutually beneficial."

Nathan's ego bloomed. He flipped the file open and skimmed the pages. His expression shifted almost instantly—brows lifting, mouth parting.

"This… this is incredible," he said. "These numbers, the access—it's beyond anything I expected."

A few gasps sounded from down the table. I leaned forward on instinct.

"I'm known to be generous to loyal partners," Damien replied.

Nathan laughed and stood, offering his hand. "Well, consider me loyal."

They shook.

"Did you read the terms thoroughly?" Damien asked in a light tone.

Nathan waved a hand. "Of course. I've seen enough. Everything looks good."

"Perfect," Damien said. "Then sign."

Nathan didn't hesitate. He scrawled his signature across the page, proud and pompous, before flipping to the final sheet. Then he paused.

"It says… both parties must sign," he read slowly. "Including Bianca?"

Cecilia leaned in with a smile. "Oh, it's just a formality. Her family owns shares—it's probably a technical clause."

Nathan nodded. "Right, of course. Bianca, sweetheart? Just a quick signature."

He slid the file to me, and my hand hovered, something feeling off.

I glanced at Damien who wore a blank expression. Nathan nudged the pen into my hand, whispering, "It's just business, Bee."

I hesitated, heart drumming. But everyone was watching. Damien. Nathan. The whole room. The pressure was too much.

With one last look at the contract, I signed.

Clapping erupted, and glasses were lifted in a toast.

Damien straightened his suit. "It's been a productive evening," he said, shaking Nathan's hand once more.

Then he turned to me.

"Bianca… go pack your things."

Silence fell as the clinking stopped, laughter died, and all eyes turned to him.

I paused. "I'm sorry—what?"

Even Nathan stood. "What the hell do you mean, pack her things?"

Damien didn't so much as blink. "According to the clause you just signed, your wife—Bianca Hayes—is to be handed over as collateral for the duration of our partnership. Six months. Effective immediately."

My mouth dried instantly, while Nathan looked down at the papers like they were written in a language he'd never seen. "That's not—there's no way—"

"Oh, it's there." Damien's voice turned cold. "Page nine. Subsection three. Tucked beneath the partnership liability clause."

I froze, realizing I had signed myself over, right there in front of everyone. My pulse roared in my ears.

And Damien just smiled—because this had never been about Nathan.

It had always been about me.