Chapter 2: She escaped

{Iris}

Iris sat at the back seat, crossly. Her arms wrapped around her midriff, eyes transfixed on the one behind the steer, probably thinking of a thousand ways to murder him.

For the first time, Iris regrets deterring from her initial dream of being a militant.

Only if she's able to handle guns. No! If only she's gotten that training, then she won't be here, sulking at the back seat of a stranger that's about to be his husband.

"Husband?"

She silently huffed.

Iris has tried to explain to the man that he's gotten the wrong person. There's probably no way she could be his runaway bride...or maybe his soon to be bride as the man has said.

"But could it be true?"

Iris thought, but she just couldn't fathom how her father would get her engaged without her opinion... And to a man she knows not and that seems dangerous.

Even though the man is attractive, Iris could just feel a bad aura coming from her. His musky smell that made her eyes turn and the passive smell of cigarettes and strong alcohol.

Iris could've bet her entire years in college that this man had taken a drag and a couple of shots before he came for her.

Just how could her father think a man like this is "perfect for her"?

"Listen..."

Iris wanted to try her luck for the hundredth time, but the sudden halt of the car made her words stop midway.

Rolling her eyes, a couple of curses slipped out her mouth as she glared at her unwanted driver.

"A warning could have helped" She muttered, her fingers kneading the temples she's hit against the front seat a second earlier.

Without replying to her, the man opened the car door and bolted out.

"And he even has an ego!" Iris scoffed. "No way on Earth I'm tying myself down with such sadistic man"

She clutched her small purse to her chest, feeling the few notes she's planned to use in reserving a hotel room. Her lips curved into a faint smile, and she nodded slowly.

"I can still do it," she mumbled. "I definitely can still... "

But before she could complete her words, the car door opened, dousing Iris with the cold night breeze.

Quickly hiding the smile beneath a sad gloomy face, Iris looked up and her eyes met with a tall man with spiky waves.

"Boss said I should escort you, ma'am."

What! Did her title just change in a second?

{Damien}

Damien slammed the door behind him, stripping himself of the black blazer, and dumping it on the couch nearer.

He pulled on his tie, a foggy breath escaping his month.

There's no doubt that he's mad. His soon to be bride had acted stupidly today almost getting herself killed, and she's made the almighty Damien Nightfall leave his house just to search for an impulsive 20yr old girl.

Damien does not work with people who don't know protocols, and of course, with what happened today, his new client which he's made a deal with knows nothing about his rules.

His lips slowly lifted into a smirk, a smirk hidden the angry face he's on earlier as his brain made a mental note on how to deal with his client.

In his line of business, time and rules go hand in hand. And nor only did his client make him waste his time, he broke the rules.

"Welcome sir," a middle-aged woman in a navy blue apron draped around her body came running out of the kitchen, her head bowed the moment her eyes met with the boss of the house.

"The room?" Damien asked.

"It's been prepared sir." The woman who happened to be the head maid replied, his gaze still remaining on the floor.

"Good!" Damien nodded.

He's tempted to make one request, but ignores it and lets it die in the pit of his stomach.

He could punish her this much for wasting his time anyway.

Not saying anything else, Damien made his way up the stairs and down to his room.

Closing the door with a gentle snap, he stripped himself off of the remaining clothes, exposing the ripped body beneath the white button shirt he had on earlier.

His porcelain skin came to view. The muscle in his arm flexed at the slightest movement of his arm. And the six packs that seem as though he's been living in the gym his entire life.

The 30yr old man stared at his own reflection in the mirror, eyes leering down to the stab wound on his chest close to his heart.

His fingers skimmed over the wound and he let out a shaky breath.

How long has it been since he's had the scar?

Even though it's only a scar now. Even though it doesn't hurt anymore, the memory and the pain hurts more than the actual stab.

"It's okay," Damien gasped. "It's already in the past."

Unable to take it anymore, he took his gaze away from his reflection, then stepped under the shower. The cold water dousing his body and forcing the cold memory off his brain.

He needs something else to think of more than drowning in the past.

Something like his wedding with his 20 yr old bride that will take place a day after tomorrow.

Damien scowled. He could still remember the look on his bride's face when he'd told her about her being her bride, and that could mean one thing, his client has not discussed this with his daughter.

Damien had almost lost his patient there and left the girl behind, but of course, he didn't only need the girl to become his bride for some time, he had an ulterior motive.

He couldn't help the smile that lifted onto his lips as he imagined his stepbrother's expression.

So priceless he couldn't wait to see it.

He gets the girl and wins the game.

After some minutes under the shower, he stepped out of it and wrapped his waist with a white towel.

He stepped out just in time his room door opened, and one of his most trusted guards came in.

Damien dipped his eyes.

"Miss...She escaped"