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Chapter Thirty -Seven: The Brief Against Damien
publish date:
2026-06-11 08:17:20
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Wrecked by my enemy Chapter Seventy-Five : Wedding Planning
The scent inside the boutique was thick, almost suffocatingly sweet—a dense, humid mixture of crushed eucalyptus leaves, wet moss, and greenhouse earth. It was an artificial oasis designed to screen out the harsh gray exhaust of the city outside, yet to Elias Hawthorne, it felt entirely like a funeral parlor.Across the marble-topped counter stood Sophia Lang, her spine perfectly straight beneath her tailored ivory trench coat. To any casual observer glancing through the display windows of the Madison Avenue florist, they were the picture-perfect image of high-society romance: a pair of young, devastatingly attractive executives preparing to cement their union before the eyes of the financial world.Every touch was calibrated. Every glance was measured to the millimeter.Elias stepped closer, his hand sliding smoothly over the small of her back. Through the fine silk of her blouse, his fingers found the exact curve of her waist. It was a gesture of effortless, possessive warmth, and S
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter Seventy-Four : Sophia's Photograph Decision
The rain in the city never fell cleanly; it smeared against the panoramic glass of Sophia’s high-rise penthouse, distorting the grid of yellow taxi lights below into long, bleeding streaks of gold. Inside, the ambient light was low, provided only by the embers of a dying fire and the harsh, unfiltered beam of a single halogen desk lamp.Sophia sat with her knees pulled tightly against her chest, the heavy silk of her robe pooling around her ankles. Her skin still tingled with a faint, electric sensitivity—a phantom ache from the previous night's clandestine meeting. The physical intimacy between her and the man she was supposed to consider her greatest rival had crossed a dangerous line. She could still feel the phantom weight of his body pressing her down into the plush leather sofa of his private office, the desperate, almost angry way his fingers had tangled in her hair as their mouths collided. It had been raw, breathless, and entirely wrong—a forbidden release born from high-stak
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter Seventy-Three : The Third Party
The heavy scent of cedarwood and rain didn’t belong to Elias.When the shadow finally stepped into the pool of light cast by the computer monitor, Damien’s fingers tightened so hard against the edge of the twenty-year-old photograph that the brittle paper threatened to snap. It was Rafe. His head of security, his closest confidant, and the only man who knew exactly how deep Damien had fallen into the quicksand of his forbidden affair with Elias.Rafe looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes matching the grim set of his jaw. He didn't ask permission. He walked straight over to the mahogany desk, tossed a heavily encrypted tactical tablet onto the blotter, and leaned down, his eyes scanning the ancient photograph Damien was trying to hide beneath his palm."You look like you've seen a ghost," Rafe said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that cut through the sterile hum of the server stack."I have," Damien murmured, his voice sounding hollow, stripped of its usual corporate author
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter Seventy-Two : Wei Chen
The phantom heat of Elias’s hands still burned on Damien’s skin. Even now, hours later in the deep, quiet isolation of his private study, Damien could feel the faint, bruised ache along his collarbone and the lingering pressure on his hips where Elias had pinned him against the desk.Their encounter in the darkened offices of the rival firm had been savage, desperate, and entirely forbidden—a breathless collision of sharp teeth, tangled limbs, and hushed, ragged gasps. It was the kind of physical intimacy that felt less like passion and more like a mutual, destructive hunger. Elias had looked at him with those dark, calculating eyes, stripping away Damien’s defenses with a single, bruising kiss that tasted of salt and expensive scotch. Every touch had been an unspoken war, a raw surrender that left Damien completely undone.But as Damien sat in the cold, blue luminescence of his dual monitors, the warmth of that memory began to curdle into something icy and sharp.For weeks, Hawthorne
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter Seventy-One : Catherine
The garden pavilion at the Hawthorne estate in Bedford was always kept at a suffocatingly precise seventy-two degrees. It smelled of damp peat moss, distilled water, and the faint, chemically sweet preservative sprayed on the white orchids Catherine Hawthorne had spent the last two decades tending. It was a beautiful, glass-enclosed cage, completely isolated from the brutal wind off the Hudson and the corporate warfare currently consuming Manhattan. Elias stood in the doorway, the heavy iron handle cold against his palm. He had driven north in the dead of night, his mind spinning from the silent, agonizing theater of the Pierre gala. Under his cashmere sweater, his skin was still hyper-sensitive, his shoulders stiff from the lingering, possessive bruises Damien had left on him. Every slow movement of his chest felt like a betrayal of his name, a visceral reminder of how easily he had unraveled in the dark under the raw, dominant weight of his family’s greatest enemy. His mother did
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter Seventy: Gala Management
The Grand Ballroom of the Pierre was a suffocating cage of gold leaf, Baccarat crystal, and the high-society elite. Under the blinding, crystalline chandeliers, the city’s financial titans moved like sharks in a shallow pool, their laughter sharp and transactional. It was an environment built entirely on the performance of stability, especially tonight, with the federal indictment of Victor Hawthorne hanging over the market like an unexploded bomb.Elias Hawthorne stood near the towering arched windows overlooking Fifth Avenue, his fingers curved around the stem of a crystal champagne flute. He hadn't taken a single sip. His black tuxedo was tailored to an absolute, flawless precision, every line engineered to project the image of an unshakeable, pristine heir ready to assume the throne. But beneath the stiff, starched white linen of his shirt, his body was a map of raw, agonizing secrets.His skin still burned where the heavy, calloused hands of Damien Blackwood had branded him. The
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter 4: The Point of No Return
The stranger didn’t let Elias catch his breath.Elias lay there on the silk sheets, chest heaving, come cooling on his stomach, the blindfold was still tight against his eyes. His body felt wrecked already, legs shaky, ass throbbing from that first brutal round. But the stranger’s hands were back o
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter 3: No Turning Back
Elias’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.Not the small, polite tremor he could hide in board meetings. This was full body, teeth rattling shit that made the black silk blindfold feel like it was already cutting off his air. He’d paid the obscene membership fee, heart beating so hard he could taste copp
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter 2: The Predator’s Night Off
The Maybach cut through the downtown rain like it had a personal grudge against the city.“Tell me again,” Damien said, voice flat and low. “How close did Victor actually get?”Rafe didn’t look up from his phone, thumb flicking across the screen too fast, like the speed could change the numbers. “C
Wrecked by my enemy Chapter 1: The Perfect Son
"To my son," Victor Hawthorne said, raising his glass, "and the future that finally makes this family complete."The applause started immediately. Three hundred people in a room that cost more per square foot than most people earned in a year, all of them clapping for a toast that wasn't a toast at
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