Meanwhile, inside the room, Arabella was forcing the door handle. "Do not you dare leave me here, Mason!" she shouted. Despite her boldness, the beautiful woman was afraid of her husband's actions. Mason could very well be a psychopath and leave her locked in the room for days. "Let me out, Mason! You can't fucking lock me inside!"Outside, a smile formed on Eleonor's lips. Finally, Arabella was getting the treatment that the mother-in-law deemed appropriate. She scoffed, "You are the daughter-in-law of the Donovan family. Even if the king comes knocking on our door, we are not afraid!"**Following dayDamon stepped out of his luxurious car as the chauffeur opened the door. He stood before the Donovan mansion, ready for the dinner. When Clint called Mason last minute, requesting a dinner, Mason accepted without hesitation. All Mason wanted was for his project to be accepted.Damon was greeted at the door by Eleonor, who was impeccably dressed, wearing a fur coat over her dress. She k

The priest continued walking towards the sacristy, and he returned to the place of the faithful, the hall where masses are held. Although he had spent years away from any piece of Catholicism, Damon remembered all the details. The problem with photographic memory is that you can't choose what gets engraved in the brain.The confessional was located in another corridor, in the farthest and less illuminated area of the church. Rumor had it that it was secluded because it was the place where priests chose to seduce parishioners. The confessional was closed, having only one door for the priest to enter. It was a kind of old wooden box. The side windows were covered with screens, so the priest could see the parishioner, but the parishioner could not see the priest. There was a step outside, so the penitent could kneel while confessing.That was his favorite part. To kneel and wait for the priest to tell him how far he was from holiness, knowing that he was getting worse every day and tha

In fact, it wasn't a dream. It was a memory of the night she spent with Damon.Arabella got up, knowing she would not be able to sleep anymore after the dream about Damon. She went to the desk where the Phantom Group project was and started working. The next day, there would be a dinner with Damon Banks, and she needed to be prepared. She needed the project to be approved so she could then get rid of Mason.**The reason why casinos were legal in Las Vegas was simple; no one would be unhappy if they could indulge in sins. What people judged and repudiated elsewhere was entertainment in Vegas, it was what they called a Monday.At the Wynn Las Vegas Casino, one of the most luxurious settings in Sin City, a cocktail party was beginning. A relatively small gathering, for just over a hundred wealthy people. This would not be an ordinary night, with million-dollar games rolling on the tables, or golden call girls dancing around the hall. The night promised much more.The casino's decor was

"I can still manage my fucking time, Arabella."Upon hearing those words and letting them take effect, Arabella stopped. She simply froze, right in the middle of the hall. She thought about it, and almost wanted to laugh. Turning to Damon again, she began to speak her first thought, without filters: "You are here because you saw the perfect opportunity to bring a model. do not act like your effort is for me, because despite having the chance to be with me, you still prefer them."Damon took a step toward Arabella to ensure more privacy. In their current position, his lips were only inches away from her ear. The proximity sparked electricity, but they were too exposed to release the energy. Arabella felt her body react internally, but the only expression she had was a soft sigh."You have no idea of the effort I would make for you," he whispered."You do not need to make an effort, Mr. Banks. Your intentions are clear," she retorted."Are they really? Because you still seem irritated

"Collins residence," Victor's voice greeted her on the other end of the line, tinged with a hint of weariness."Dad?" Arabella's confusion was evident in her voice. "Where's the secretary?"There was a pause on the other end of the line, a pregnant silence that spoke volumes. "Ah... Arabella, dear. Well, she..." Victor's voice faltered slightly, as if he were searching for the right words. "We no longer have a secretary."Arabella's brow furrowed in disbelief. "What? Why?""It's a very high cost, dear," Victor explained, his tone apologetic."But you sold the..." Arabella's words trailed off, her mind racing. "Is the money gone?""Arabella, why did you call?" Victor attempted to deflect, but Arabella was not so easily swayed."Answer me, Victor. Is the money gone?" Her voice was firm, her resolve unyielding."Arabella, when you last visited, Eleonor was with you, and I did not want to add another burden to your shoulders," Victor began, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Yes, I sold the c