تسجيل الدخولBillionaire CEO Damien Voss hasn’t slept peacefully in three years — not since the car accident that broke him. When his assistant drapes a forgotten lavender-and-strawberry scented blanket over him, Damien finally finds rest… until the precious scent is washed away forever. Desperate and unraveling, he turns to the blanket’s owner: Liora Kane, his assistant’s younger sister. With a single threat her brother’s job or her compliance Damien forces Liora into a contract: eight hours per night in his bed, nothing more. Her days remain her own. Six months only. He tells himself he is being reasonable. He only needs her scent to sleep. Nothing else. But Damien Voss was once the city’s most sought-after bachelor tall, devastatingly handsome, and powerfully built. Even after the accident, his striking looks and commanding presence remain. And though he has never been with a woman, he quickly learns how to use every inch of his body to seduce the innocent woman lying beside him. Night after night, Liora lies stiff beside the domineering CEO as he buries his face in her neck, inhaling her like a drug. What begins as clinical necessity slowly turns carnal. His touches grow bolder. His hips start to rock against her in the dark. He rubs himself against her thigh or stomach until he shudders and spills in his boxers, whispering filthy praises against her skin while she fights the unwanted heat building inside her. The contract promised safety. It promised only eight hours and nothing sexual unless she consents. Yet Damien’s obsession deepens with every shared breath. Jealousy ignites. Possession takes hold. And Liora finds herself dangerously seduced by the broken, beautiful man who needs her more than air a man willing to break every rule to make her crave him.
عرض المزيدChapter 1
The Maybach smelled like usual, something that only the elite of the elite will recognize, Wealth. Damien Voss CEO of Voss industries, had his head against the window with his eyes closed, his hair looked like he had run his hand through it multiple times and his face said it all, dark circles from days of lack of sleep had turned him hostile, his lips were set in a grim line with his jaw clenched. It had been three years since the accident, since the nightmares , since the insomnia, since the constant train of guilt running through him. Three years of doctors, pills, drugs, drinks, that made his hand shake and his visions blur, but none of it worked, he'd seen more therapists and doctors than cancer patients. the guilt and nightmares didn't stop, everything felt pointless. “We've arrived sir,” he didn't bother answering Marcus, the constant drumming in his head and lack of sleep with the hours spent in meetings with incompetent workers left him drained. In the front passenger seat, Elias Kane watched his boss through the rearview mirror and said nothing. Two years working for the man, and he'd learned there were moods you talked through and moods you left alone. This one, pale skin, jaw so tight the muscle twitched, eyes like bruises was the second kind. Elias was about to get down when his foot brushed something, it was a bag, the one Liora's blanket was in, without thinking much he took the blanket already half regretting it, he turned in his seat and draped it on Damien's shoulders. “Sir, try this” he said cautiously. Damien's eyes opened fast, glaring, irritated, the look of a man who did not like being touched and was ready to destroy whoever it was that disturbed him. Then something shifted. The scent hit him, lavender and strawberry, and whatever sharp thing was coiled behind his eyes seemed to go slack. "The hell is......" he started. He was asleep before he finished his sentence. Elias had been working for Damien for 2 years and he had noticed a lot of things concerning his boss but this was the first time he saw him sleep, not closing his eyes and resting, but actually sleeping and deeply at that. Three days later, Elias heard the shouting from the lobby. He took the elevator up with his stomach already dropping. the Security met him at the penthouse doors with the specific expression of a man who wished he could be anywhere else but here. Inside, a vase was in pieces near the piano. A chair was on its side, the center table was smashed, Damien stood in the center of the living room in black sweatpants and nothing else, chest heaving, holding the blanket in both hands like he might tear it apart. A new hire was pressed into the corner, rigid with fear. "I…I.. I..washed it," the kid stuttered, his whole body was trembling. "I thought it smelled I just thought it needed" "You 'thought.'" Damien's voice had gone quiet, deadly calm. and That was somehow worse. "You thought you could put your hands on something that isn't yours." "Sir, I'll take care of this" Elias stepped forward and kept his voice flat and even, pacifying the frightened workers. "Everyone can leave." They went. Fast. He closed the doors and looked at his boss. Damien's eyes were bloodshot, he hadn't been to work in three days, sleep that had eluded him for years was now so easy to find, as long as he had the blanket but now…. "I slept," Damien said. Not explaining. Just stating it, like he still didn't fully believe it. "First time in three years. And he washed it." He looked at the blanket in his hands. Clean. Scentless. Useless. " You gave me this blanket didn't you” he didn't expect a reply “Get me another one. Same scent. Exact." "I can try sir, but" Elias paused. There was no clean way to say this. "That scent was my sister's. She mixes it herself. It's not something you can buy." Damien went very still. "Your sister." "Liora. She left the blanket in the car months ago. I should've returned it." The silence stretched. Elias watched something shift in Damien's expression exhaustion ceding ground to something harder and more deliberate. "Bring her here." "I'm sorry?" "Tonight. If the scent is still on her" He stopped himself. Rubbed a hand over his face. Started again, quieter. "I need to sleep, Elias. You understand what I'm telling you? I need it. Bring her here." Desperation had crept into his voice. "She has a life. She works two jobs, she's not....." "If she isn't here by nine," Damien said calmly, the billionaire CEO was back the desperation and pleas were out, "You're done. Not just here. Anywhere in this city. I'll make sure of it." Elias looked at him. He wanted to say something anything that would land differently. But Damien wasn't bluffing. He never bluffed. It was one of the things that made him good at what he did and almost impossible to work for. "I'll call her," Elias said finally. Damien nodded once, already turning away. "Tell her to bring anything that still has the scent on it." Liora was standing outside the building thirty minutes later, the windows reflecting her image wondering what exactly she'd just agreed to. Her brother's voice on the phone had been careful in the way it got when things were actually bad. "Please. Just come, it's about my boss……. I'll explain when you get here." She'd pulled on her jacket, grabbed her bag, and came as fast as she could. Fear was a big motivation and because he was her brother she knew him more than anyone else, she could hear the strain underneath the words he wasn't saying. The private elevator opened without a key card. Someone had already keyed it for her. She stepped in and felt like her whole world was about to change. She didn't know what Damien Voss needed from her. She knew his name the way everyone knew it the kind of man whose face showed up in business sections and gossip columns in equal measure. Rich. Difficult. Used to getting what he wanted. She bit the side of her thumb and counted the numbers till they reached the top floor.Damien's POV The report arrived at exactly seven forty-three PM. Damien was halfway through dinner with Camille at the Italian restaurant she had reserved three weeks earlier. It was one of those understated Manhattan places that didn't advertise, where the lighting was warm, the wine list intimidating, and every table somehow managed to feel private despite the crowded room. His phone rested face down beside his water glass. He always kept it that way during dinner with Camille. Not because he particularly cared about etiquette, but because a year ago, early in whatever it was they had together, she'd asked him to. "Can you keep your phone face down when we're having dinner?" It had been a reasonable request. Reasonable requests were easy. He honored them. The phone vibrated once against the white tablecloth. He ignored it. Across from him, Camille was describing a waterfront property her family was considering in the Hamptons. She spoke with the effortless co
Chapter 65: The FileHale's POVHe recognized the name the moment Demien Voss said it was like a flashback of what happened 4 years ago.He heard about the CEO's accident and him losing his memories regarding everything relating to her.Liora Kane.He'd built a forty one page report on her four years ago.He pulled it up on his second monitor while his phone was still warm from the call .He sat with that for a moment.Then he called Margaret Voss.She answered on the second ring."Hale," she said. The way she always said it. Not a greeting exactly. More an acknowledgment that he existed and was calling and she was prepared to hear why."Mrs. Voss," he said. "Your son called me this afternoon. He's asked me to investigate a woman named Liora Kane."Three seconds of silence.He counted them.He always counted them with Margaret because the length of her silences told him things her words didn't.Three seconds meant this knowledge had caught her by surprise."I see," she said."I have
Chapter 64: The Third PaperDamien's POVThe car didn't move for eleven minutes.Marcus would have known not to say anything.The new driver, a man named Cole who had been with him for three years and was competent and professional and entirely not Marcus, sat in the front seat with the engine running and said nothing because Damien hadn't told him to drive and Cole had learned in three years that instructions were instructions and silence was silence and the two were not interchangeable.Damien looked at his phone.At the third paperEngineered Olfactory Compounds and Their Application in Targeted Neurological Fixation: A Study in Psychographic Profiling.He'd found it twenty minutes into the drive back from the institute when he'd pulled up her academic profile to read the preliminary work behind the framework she'd presented and had found the three papers listed in reverse chronological order.He'd read the first one in the first ten minutes.Standard research. Rigorous. Well const
He looked at her. The smile stayed exactly where it was. "I'm just noting facts," he said. "And I'm a researcher. I note things." She held his gaze for a moment. Then she looked at the conference room door ahead of them. "Let's just get through the meeting," she said. "Of course," he said pleasantly. He held the door open for her. She went in. The conference room had floor to ceiling windows on one side. The city beyond them, the flat grey light of an overcast Monday. The long table already set up with water and notepads and the institute's branding on the presentation screen at the far end. Four of her team were already seated. Henderson from Voss Industries research division she recognized from the Thursday gathering, a compact efficient man in his fifties who nodded at her when she came in. No Damien yet. She set her files at the head of the table. Arranged them. Rearranged them. Liam sat in the chair to her left and poured himself water and looked
Chapter 8: ExposureThe lotion bottle had about three weeks left.Liora thought as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror at 8AM, pressing the pump slowly, watching the pale cream curl into her palm. Lavender and strawberry. She'd been using it for a while. had Bought it from a small vendor at a
Chapter 7: Withdrawal Damien Voss was exhausted. Not the dull kind of exhaustion coffee could fix. Not the manageable sort that came after long meetings and longer nights. This was sharper. More dangerous. The kind that sat behind his eyes and made every sound in the room feel like pressure ag
Chapter 6: Patterns By the fifth night, Damien Voss had developed habits. Liora notice because she was beginning to develop some too The car arrived outside the bookstore at exactly 10:15 every evening now. Marcus never needed to come inside anymore; he simply waited near the curb while she close
Chapter 5: RoutineLiora was starting to hate elevators.Specifically private elevators.The silent one's.The kind that carried you to a specific penthouse. Namely Damien Voss's penthouseShe stared at her












Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.