The Devil's Wife

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"Alia, it's time," her father's urgent voice crackled over the intercom. She took a deep breath, smoothing her skirt and adjusting the collar of her crisp white blouse. The office walls seemed to close in around her, the air thick with anticipation.

The conference room door opened with a soft hiss, revealing the stark contrast of their passionate embrace. Damien's arms wrapped around her like steel bands, pulling her against his firm, expensive suit. The scent of his cologne filled the air, a heady mix of leather and sandalwood that seemed to cling to every surface. She felt his warm breath on her neck, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked up into his piercing blue eyes. The fluorescent lights reflected off his dark hair, giving it a bluish tint. His mouth curved into a predatory smile as he bent to kiss her, and she could feel the hunger in his touch. The room around them faded away, replaced by the thrill of the moment. Her hands trembled as they found their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart matching her own.

Their kiss grew more intense, the sound of their breathing echoing in the silent room. The only other sound was the faint rustle of papers and the occasional clack of a keyboard from the nearby offices. But here, in this sanctum of power and desire, nothing else mattered.

Damien's hand slid down to the small of her back, his fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt as he pulled her closer. Alia could feel the heat of his body, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. Her own breath grew shallow, the thrill of the illicit mixing with the fear of discovery. The cold glass of the office window pressed against her back as he trailed kisses along her jaw, sending goosebumps across her skin.

The scent of their mingled cologne and perfume grew stronger as their bodies entwined, the only evidence of their passion the slight shifting of shadows across the floor. His hands roamed her body, mapping every curve and plane, as if memorizing her. She responded in kind, her own hands slipping beneath his shirt to feel the taut muscles beneath.

The desk groaned under their weight as Damien lifted her onto it, papers fluttering to the floor like confetti. Alia wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels knocking over a potted plant that had been a thoughtful gift from a business partner. The thud was muffled by their mingled gasps, the thrill of the risk only adding to their desire. The room spun around them, a blur of power suits and family portraits as they gave in to the maelstrom of emotions.

But as their passion reached its peak, Alia's eyes snapped open. The reality of their situation crashed down on her like a cold shower. This wasn't love—it was a transaction, a deal sealed with a kiss. She was married to a man who didn't care for her, a man whose world was as foreign to her as the stars in the sky. The excitement drained from her body, leaving behind a hollow ache.

Pushing him away, she slid off the desk, her legs wobbly. "We can't," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thunder of her own pulse.

Damien's smile turned into a scowl. "Why not?" he demanded, his eyes flashing with irritation.

Alia took a deep breath, her mind racing. "Because...because we need to keep this professional," she lied, hoping her voice didn't betray her. "The merger...my father's company..."

He stepped back, his eyes narrowing. "Your father's company is the least of your concerns," he said coldly. "Remember why you're here."

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the deal she'd made. The room felt suddenly too small, the air too thin. With a nod, she straightened her clothes and stepped away from him, her heart heavy with the weight of her new reality.

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving her in the quiet embrace of the hallway. Her legs felt like jelly as she made her way back to her own office, the echo of his footsteps following her like a ghostly presence. She leaned against the cool wall, taking a moment to compose herself before facing the world again.

As she slipped back into the rhythm of her workday, the taste of his kiss lingered on her lips, a bittersweet reminder of the price she'd paid for the company's salvation. The office buzzed around her, oblivious to the turmoil within.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of emails and meetings, her mind never truly focusing on the tasks at hand. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Damien, to the power he wielded and the secrets he kept. The man she'd married was a mafia boss, and she was now a pawn in his games.

The sun set outside, casting long shadows across the cityscape that she could see from her office window. The buildings looked like a child's playset, so far removed from the harsh reality of her situation. As the lights of the city began to twinkle, she knew she couldn't keep up this facade forever. Sooner or later, she would have to face the consequences of her actions.

But for now, she had a job to do, a company to save, and a marriage to uphold. With a deep breath, she turned away from the window and back to her desk, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead.

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