Damain and Sofia stepped out of the restaurant hand in hand, her dreamy gaze fixed on him as though nothing else in the world deserved her attention.

She had arrived expecting confrontation, ready to expose a manipulative man who intended to use her to protect a corrupt politician tied to her friend’s death. Instead, she found someone entirely different. A multimillionaire who practiced law not out of necessity, but out of passion.

Thinking back, it felt strange.

He had risen so quickly, yet his public appearances were few. The first she recalled was his involvement in helping pensioners recover from a scam, a case she had barely paid attention to at the time.

Then came the Twenty Shot case, a spectacle no one could fully explain. To this day, people still questioned how he had convinced Breezy’s own mother to testify against him, yet in the end, he had prevented an innocent man from being imprisoned.

Damain had subtly woven those cases into their conversation, using them to reinforce his belief that nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.

Sofia had been completely drawn in, accepting every word without resistance, unaware that Damain was carefully shaping her perception, preparing her for the narrative he intended to build around Elena’s death.

They stopped in front of his expensive SUV.

Sofia’s attention shifted to the woman standing beside it. She was dressed in corporate attire, posture straight, expression indifferent, radiating a quiet professionalism that only enhanced her beauty.

Without thinking, Sofia leaned into Damain’s side, pressing herself against him in a silent claim.

Damain rolled his eyes internally.

If it had been Clara or one of his wives, he might have found the gesture endearing. But Sofia did not belong in that category.

He glanced at his watch and frowned. It was already 10:45 p.m. He needed to reach Councilman Delaney before midnight. Ending this quickly had become a priority.

Before he could speak, Sofia slipped from his grasp and moved in front of him, walking backward with a playful smile as she blocked his path.

"So... are we heading back to your place?"

Damain forced a smile and played along. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her close until only inches separated their faces.

His hands traced the curve of her hips, deliberate and controlled.

"Can you afford to spend the night with me and still make it to work tomorrow morning?" he whispered near her ear.

Her body trembled under his voice, her breath catching as his words brushed against her senses. Her heart pounded as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close without regard for their surroundings.

She had not brought a change of clothes. Staying over meant complications, consequences she could not ignore.

Yet the thought of walking away from him felt impossible.

"Then... my place?" she asked softly, uncertainty laced in her voice.

She worried someone of his status might reject the idea.

Damain, however, smiled.

He had no intention of bringing her into his home. That space belonged to his wives and concubines, and Sofia had not earned that place.

"Alright... lead the way," he said, sealing it with a brief kiss that sent another shiver through her.

They entered the car, and Sofia gave Loth directions.

To Damain’s surprise, her apartment was located in the same upscale neighborhood he once lived in, even within the same complex, just on a higher floor.

They took the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to her unit.

The moment he stepped inside, he paused.

Her living room was drenched in pink. The couch, the walls, even the decor carried the same soft, vibrant tone. Anime stickers dotted the walls, and a plush pink fur carpet stretched across the entire floor.

He stood at the entrance, taking it all in, an unexpected sense of familiarity stirring within him.

It reminded him of a life he had already left behind.

"I like your home," Damain said honestly.

Sofia’s face lit up instantly.

"Wait till you see the view from my room. It’s stunning," she said with a grin as she moved toward the staircase.

Reaching the bottom, she turned back, curling her fingers in a beckoning gesture before heading upstairs.

Damain exhaled quietly and checked the time again.

It was already eleven.

He needed to finish this quickly and leave.

"Loth..."

Damain turned to her, though what stood behind him was no longer the familiar human form he had grown used to. Like him, she had shed her body, revealing something far more... real.

Before him stood a woman with flowing pink hair and skin carrying a faint gray tone, otherworldly yet striking. Her figure was slender, but her curves were undeniable, accentuated by a tight, revealing gothic outfit. A thin tail swayed behind her, its tip shaped like a small heart, while delicate bat-like wings rested lightly on her back.

In this form, she looked even more captivating.

Damain found himself momentarily stunned. He had never asked to see the true forms of his wives, nor had he expected this. Yet now, standing before Loth like this, something within him stirred in a way he did not fully understand.

"Instead of Sofia, you are the one I should be eating up," Damain said, his eyes flashing faintly with a violet glow as he stepped forward.

Loth instinctively stepped back.

The air between them shifted.

Then, just as quickly, Damain halted. His body froze mid-step, awareness crashing back into him. The hunger he felt, sudden and overwhelming, had nearly dragged him past his own control. It was unsettling.

Loth’s face flushed, her gaze dropping as she remained still.

Damain exhaled quietly, forcing himself to regain composure.

"Go and scout Delaney’s place. I need to know the best route to reach him by the time I’m done here," he said, his tone returning to calm authority.

This was the reason she had followed him.

"I understand," Loth replied, nodding firmly.

She stepped back, her form phasing through the door as though it were nothing more than air, vanishing without a trace and leaving Damain alone.

Without hesitation, he turned and made his way upstairs. The door to the room was already open. He stepped inside and shut it behind him.

Clank!

Darkness filled the space, thick and complete, yet it posed no obstacle to him.

He could see clearly.

Sofia sat by her computer, her posture relaxed yet deliberate. She was completely naked and only wore long black socks that stretched almost to her knees, her legs crossed as she leaned back slightly in her chair. Her long brown hair was tied into playful pigtails, framing her face in a way that contrasted sharply with the boldness of her presence.

"Come..." She gasped.