Hinovel
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Summary
Naomi never thought she would betray her vows—until desperation forced her hand. With her husband's business on the verge of collapse and debt threatening to destroy them, she did the unthinkable. One night. One deal. One secret arrangement with Damon Cross, her cold yet dangerously magnetic billionaire boss. She told herself it was just a transaction. A sacrifice for love. But now, no matter how hard she tries, she can’t forget the way he made her feel—the fire he ignited inside her, the way he claimed her like she belonged to him. Guilt should consume her, yet all she craves is more. Damon, however, isn’t done with her either. He always gets what he wants, and he wants Naomi back in his bed. When her husband senses her growing distance and Damon starts making his intentions clearer, Naomi finds herself trapped in a battle between duty and desire. How long can she resist temptation before it destroys everything?
1
Naomi’s hands trembled as she tightened her grip around the phone, staring at the incoming call. Eric.
She didn’t want to answer. She already knew what her husband would say—knew the desperation in his voice before she even heard it. The same desperation that had been hanging over them like a dark cloud for months.
"Pick up, Naomi." Her whisper barely reached her own ears. But her fingers wouldn’t move.
She exhaled shakily, her eyes darting toward the office door. Behind it, her boss, Damon Cross sat in his glass-walled empire, a man feared by his competitors, desired by women, and worshipped by the world.
And now, her last hope.
The call ended, and a new message popped up.
Eric: Did you talk to him?
Her stomach twisted.
For weeks, Eric had begged her to convince Damon to help him. His business was failing. Their lives were crumbling. The bank was threatening to take their home, and the debt collectors were circling.
Naomi had resisted, held onto her pride, but she wasn’t naïve. There was no other way.
Now, she had to step into Damon Cross’s office and ask for a favor.
But Naomi wasn’t stupid.
Men like Damon never gave without expecting something in return.
The phone rang again.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. She had to do this.
Her gaze lifted toward the towering glass doors of Damon Cross’s office again. The devil in a tailored suit.
The man she was about to make a deal with.
A shiver crawled down her spine.
Her phone buzzed again, this time with a text.
Eric: Naomi, did you talk to him?
Naomi hesitated. Lied.
Naomi: I’m about to.
Her heart pounded as she slid the phone into her purse and stepped forward, heels clicking against the marble floor.
Damon’s secretary, a sharp-looking woman with unreadable eyes, barely glanced up. “He’s expecting you,” she said smoothly, pressing a button that unlocked the frosted glass doors.
Of course, he was.
Naomi stepped inside.
The office was massive, lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. The air smelled like leather and power.
And there he was.
Damon Cross stood behind his desk, tall, composed—dangerously unreadable. His silver cufflinks caught the light as he flipped a page in a file, seemingly uninterested in her presence.
But Naomi knew better.
He was watching. Always watching.
“Naomi Carter,” he said at last, voice smooth as sin. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She forced herself to breathe. Say it.
“I need your help,” she said, hating how small her voice sounded. “I need a loan.”
Damon’s lips twitched—almost a smirk. Almost.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the desk. “Let me guess,” he mused. “Your husband sent you to beg for money?”
Naomi’s stomach tightened. “I’m not here to beg.”
“No?” Damon tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Then what are you offering?”
Silence stretched between them. Heavy. Suffocating.
Naomi’s throat went dry.
They both knew the answer.
Damon didn’t deal in kindness. He dealt in transactions.
And this—whatever this was—would come at a price.
Damon’s eyes didn’t leave her, sharp and knowing, as he let the silence stretch unbearably long.
Naomi felt like she couldn’t breathe.
She had rehearsed this moment over and over, but now, standing before him, she felt completely exposed.
He was waiting. For her to say it.
“I can pay you back,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “With interest.”
Damon let out a low chuckle, deep and mocking. “How adorable.”
Naomi clenched her fists at her sides. “I’m serious.”
“Oh, I know,” he said, standing up from his chair. He moved around the desk, closing the distance between them in slow, deliberate steps.
Naomi refused to step back.
But when he stopped in front of her, so close she could smell his cologne—dark, expensive, intoxicating—her body betrayed her.
Her breath hitched.
Damon noticed. Of course, he did.
“You think I don’t know your situation, Naomi?” he murmured, eyes locked onto hers. “That I haven’t already looked into your husband’s mess before you walked in here?”
Her stomach dropped.
“You’re drowning in debt. Your accounts are bleeding out. You’re out of options.” He tilted his head. “And yet, you still pretend you have something to bargain with?”
She swallowed. “I wouldn’t be here if I had another choice.”
“Exactly,” he murmured. “Which means this deal will happen on my terms.”
Her pulse pounded. “And what are your terms?”
Damon’s smirk deepened. He lifted a hand, trailing a finger slowly along the edge of her jaw.
Naomi shivered.
Then he leaned in, his lips so close to her ear that her breath came short.
“You.”
Her heart nearly stopped.
She pulled back, looking into his face for any sign of amusement, any trace that he was joking.
There was none.
Her stomach twisted. “You want me?” she whispered.
Damon’s gaze darkened. “For one night.”
A shiver ran through her.
One night.
One night to save everything.
Her marriage. Their home. Eric’s business.
But at what cost?
Damon leaned closer, his voice smooth as silk. “Do we have a deal?
Naomi’s breath came shallow and uneven. Damon’s words echoed in her head, sinking deep into her bones.
You. For one night.
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. This was insane. Immoral. Unforgivable.
And yet…
Her mind flashed to Eric, his sleepless eyes, the growing weight of failure pressing down on him. She thought of the bank’s final warning, the unpaid bills piling up, the fear that clawed at her every single night.
One night.
Damon straightened, watching her like a predator toying with its prey.
“Tick tock, Naomi,” he murmured, stepping back just slightly, just enough for her to breathe again. “I don’t make the same offer twice.”
Her throat tightened.
She could say no.
Walk out of this office and tell Eric she failed. Let everything crumble around them.
Or she could save them both.
But at what cost?
Naomi met Damon’s gaze, her pulse hammering wildly. “Just one night?” she asked, hating how vulnerable her voice sounded.
Damon’s lips curled in satisfaction. “One night.”
A deal with the devil.
She closed her eyes for a split second, exhaling sharply. Then, she nodded.
Damon’s smirk deepened. “Good girl."