Page 137 of Filthy Royal

She couldn’t keep that from him, even if it meant there was a good chance that before they were done, Damien would hate her more than he already did.

But this wasn’t about her. It never had been. Plus, she’d hidden away in the dark for too long.

“Step aside.” She brushed past him. Dropped to her knees. Then rested her bottom on the back of her heels, head bowed slightly.

Damien shifted behind her. “What are you doing?”

There was no time to respond. Instead, positioned as Darvish liked—submissive, cowed, his little pet in her proper state—she held still as the hidden compartment opened, and the familiar eye scan and blood marker flickered out.

Nothing had given Darvish more pleasure than to record her on her knees before him.

The process was over in an instant, with Damien witnessing it all. Heat prickled across her cheeks and chest as the door slid open.

Before she could rise, two strong arms lifted her back onto her feet and spun her to face him.

“I don’t know what the fuck’s going on here, but I don’t like it.” Damien hesitated, an aggressive sound rattling from his chest. “You get down on your fucking knees again? It’ll be for me alone.”

His words sent a shiver cascading through her, a surge of sensation that had nothing to do with bruises or pain or the memories of humiliation that usually accompanied what she’d done.

Damien didn’t look disgusted. He looked pissed. On her behalf. Somehow, that made everything a little better.

“Let’s go.” She squared her shoulders and turned to the open door. “We don’t have long before the open-door alarm triggers and the self-destruct sequence initiates, blowing up the room.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

17

DAMIEN

“You didn’t think to mention that sooner?” Damien stood in the center of the weird-ass room and rotated slowly; the laser raised to counter any surprise threats.

“Would it have made a difference?” Way too calm, Scarlett pressed her hand to the keypad, and the door slid shut.

He scowled. “No.”

“Then here we are.” She crossed her arms and stared at him in a challenge.

His hand itched to spank some self-preservation instincts into the stubborn female, but a fast-approaching self-destruct outcome meant prioritizing, and those bruises on her… they haunted him. “What are we dealing with?”

A sexy-as-hells sly smile appeared on her face. “The good news is Darvish doesn’t realize I know his protocols.” Her smile widened. “Luckily, he’s not the only one skilled at finding out secrets.”

Damned, Damien liked this side of her.

“The moment the cameras went down,” she continued, “security went on high alert. When I used my eye scan and DNA to open the door without Darvish or his assistant present to approve my access, the next level of security protocols was triggered, and the self-destruct countdown began.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly. When security doesn’t receive a false-alarm countermand, they’ll sweep the floors from top to bottom, searching for intruders. According to protocol, any unsanctioned personnel found in the building will be instantly terminated. Once they’ve searched the entire building, the guards are then expected to evacuate and block all exits to this floor. The air will be sucked from the space and a highly flammable gas pumped in, causing an explosion that will destroy not only any living thing in the room but also every piece of tech and innate material as well.”

“Why the hells would the guards follow an order like that?”

“Few are willing to challenge a monster.”

Damien’s gut clenched as that sense of foreboding reared its head again.

He had an uncomfortable suspicion he should have returned to the Golden Dome far sooner.

But he was there now and wasn’t leaving without getting to the bottom of what made Scarlett tick, just as he should have done the first time.

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