Over the next week, I fully committed to my role as an unapologetic cling-on.

When Damian went to the study, I dragged over a little stool and sat by his feet, pretending to read.

When he went to eat, I sat right next to him and picked all the bell peppers he didn't like into my own plate.

When he took a walk in the garden, I followed behind him like a shadow, stepping right where his shadow fell.

Every day, Damian had something harsh to say—"Get lost," "Stay away from me," "Annoy me again and I'll throw you out."

But not once did he actually push me away.

The servants' looks toward me shifted too—from pity and disdain to something closer to disbelief… and maybe even a hint of respect.

That evening, Damian was heading to a business gala.

He didn't invite me outright, but he had a stylist deliver a row of haute couture gowns for me to choose from.

I picked a fiery red strapless gown.

In the mirror, the girl's skin was porcelain tender, the red dress blazing against it, her hair cascading like silk.

Features that had once seemed dull from long-term malnourishment were now, after a week of care, beginning to reveal striking beauty.

Even I was momentarily stunned by my own reflection.

Damian stood behind me, watching my reflection. His throat bobbed subtly, his gaze darkening.

The gala was alive with clinking glasses and elegantly dressed guests.

The moment Damian appeared, he became the center of attention.

When he walked in holding my hand, nearly every gaze in the room stuck to us.

Awe, jealousy, curiosity…

I could feel every bit of it.

"Mr. Blackwood, and this is…?" A man who had worked with Damian approached with a glass in hand, his gaze lingering on me inappropriately.

Damian pulled me closer against him, cutting off that lingering gaze.

"She's mine."

Two words. Simple. Absolute.

That was a public acknowledgment of who I was to him.

A warmth spread through me, and I tightened my hold on his arm.

From across the room, a venomous gaze shot toward me.

I looked up and met Natalie's face, twisted with jealousy.

She was there too, dressed in a pristine white gown, standing beside some rich heir she'd latched onto, looking soft and innocent.

But the hatred in her eyes looked like it could tear me apart.

I lifted my chin at her and gave a deliberately provoking smile.

Natalie's face drained of color as she clenched her fists.

After a while, Damian moved off to discuss business with a few influential figures.

I casually took a glass of champagne from a passing server and wandered around.

It didn't take long before something felt off.

A strange heat rose from within, growing stronger by the second, like countless ants gnawing through my body.

My temperature was spiking.

The succubus bloodline inside me felt like it had been triggered, surging wildly, almost beyond control.

I could even feel an itch spreading across my forehead—my horns were about to emerge.

My face turned ashen with fear—and then I saw Natalie's sinister smile not far away.

It was her!

She shot a look to the man beside her.

The man started walking toward me, reaching out to drag me away.

"Don't touch her!"

Damian had returned at some point, knocking the man to the ground with a single punch.

I clutched onto Damian's arm.

"Damian… I… I don't feel right…"

He caught me as I swayed, pressing a hand to my forehead—his expression darkening instantly.

Without another word, Damian scooped me up into his arms and strode toward the hotel rooms, ignoring the stunned looks around us.

My consciousness was already starting to blur.

All I knew was that I was held in a broad, warm embrace, his masculine essence filling my senses, grounding me.

So close, his presence felt like the most dangerous kind of trigger.

My body completely lost control.

Damian laid me on the soft bed. Seeing my flushed face and rapid breathing, he assumed I was seriously ill and turned to call for a doctor.

"Wait here. I'll get someone—"

Before he could finish, I grabbed his wrist.

With the last of my strength, I pulled him down toward me.

The world spun, and in the next moment, I had flipped over and pinned him onto the bed.

Our breaths tangled in the heated air.

Pinned beneath me, Damian froze, completely caught off guard.

"Vivian, get off me—now!"

He tried to push me away, but under the surge of my succubus bloodline, my strength was overwhelming.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked his shoulders in place.

"I'm burning… Damian… it hurts…"

My voice trembled, on the edge of tears. My mind was slipping, leaving only raw instinct behind.

I needed him.

Like a restless creature seeking comfort, I lowered my head, pressing clumsy, desperate kisses against his lips, tugging at his shirt.

"Vivian!"

Damian's voice turned rough, strained with restraint.

He caught my wandering hands, trying to ground me. "Snap out of it. You've been drugged!"

But I couldn't hear him anymore.

All I knew was that his warmth could soothe the fire inside me.

I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes, my voice breaking. "Help me… please, Damian…"

In Damian's eyes, the girl's gaze was glazed with an unnatural flush, her eyes shimmering with tears—like a lost fawn on the verge of being abandoned.

Fragile… and dangerously alluring.

Damian's breath hitched, his gaze darkening.

In the end, reason gave way, retreating under the overwhelming tide of desire.

He flipped us over, pinning me beneath him, reclaiming control. His voice dropped low and rough beside my ear.

"You brought this on yourself."

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I found myself lying on a hotel bed, my whole body sore like I'd been run over by a truck.

Beside me, Damian was fast asleep.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his sharply defined features.

Memories of the night before rushed back like a tide.

I… I actually… devoured him completely?

Guiltily, I licked my lips, replaying the sensation.

Mm. It was… incredible.

The burning heat inside me was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of fullness and satisfaction.

When I looked at Damian again, his brows were slightly furrowed, his complexion… a bit ashen.

My heart skipped.

Oh no. Did I go a little too far?

It had been my first proper "meal" in centuries… I might've lost control.

Looking at his slightly worn expression in sleep, a wave of guilt crept over me.

No. Taking everything and running? That was a total jerk move.

I should… take responsibility?

No, wait. How would I even do that? Tell him I'm a succubus?

That would scare him off for sure.

I quietly slipped out of bed. Just as I bent down to pick up the torn pieces of my dress, a large hand reached out from behind and grabbed my ankle.

"Full already, and planning to run?"

His voice came from behind me, low and rough with sleep.

I froze, then slowly turned around, forcing out a placating smile. "Good… morning, Mr. Blackwood."

Damian had already sat up, the sheets slipping down to reveal several faint, suggestive scratches across his chest.

He narrowed his eyes at me, his gaze dangerous. "What did you call me last night? Damian… hmm?"

I wished I could disappear on the spot.

"Well… last night was an accident. I was drugged, I wasn't thinking straight…"

"And?" he raised a brow. "You're not taking responsibility?"

"I…"

"Vivian," he cut me off, his tone absolute. "Don't ever think about leaving me."

Natalie could never have imagined that her scheme to ruin me would end up pushing Damian and me closer together.

Unwilling to accept it, she paid someone to fabricate a video portraying me as promiscuous.

In the video, "I" was seen hanging off a group of sleazy men, speaking with obvious disdain.

"Damian? What's so great about him? I'm only interested in his money. Once I become Mrs. Blackwood and get what I want, I'll dump him. I don't love him at all."

Natalie anonymously sent the video to Damian's private inbox.

Even though Damian immediately saw through the fake.

Still, hearing those words—even knowing they were false—left a thorn in his heart.

Of course, he only told me all this after I'd… worn him down in bed.

But I could clearly feel the distance he started putting between us.

He stopped letting me into his study, kept his distance at meals, and sent me straight back to the guest room at night.

I couldn't figure it out.

Could it be… I really overdid it that night?

Did I… break him?

So his pride took a hit, and now he's avoiding me?

Highly possible.

For the sake of my future "food supply"—and to make it up to him—I looked up a ton of information and had the kitchen prepare all kinds of restorative dishes.

All kinds of supposed aphrodisiacs—oysters, rich tonics, and every kind of so-called energy-boosting delicacy.

Damian looked at the table full of "recovery foods," then at my completely sincere, well-meaning face.

His expression went from stunned, to dark, and finally… he actually laughed in anger.

"Vivian."

He gritted his teeth and stepped toward me.

I backed away, confused. "Wh-what's wrong? Don't you like it? I had them make it just for you…"

He suddenly grabbed me, hoisting me over his shoulder, and strode toward the bedroom.

"I'll show you firsthand what I'm really capable of."