Chapter 240: Dress

When we arrived at Damian’s home and stepped up to the correct floor, I saw two strapping delivery guys standing by the door next to a mountain of oversized packages. Damian merely pulled a sleek black card from his trousers, tapped it against the terminal, and the delivery workers—having received their payment—silently retreated toward the elevators, carefully avoiding his gaze.

I froze a few paces away, watching in disbelief as the man lifted the entire pile of heavy packages all at once with astonishing, effortless strength. A treacherous shiver traced down my spine as I fully registered his immense physical power. The delivery men had hauled those packages together as a pair, yet he carried the entire load alone without a single muscle straining or his expression changing, as though the bags weighed no more than feathers.

We had not spoken the entire journey. I had even tried not to look at him, pressing myself deep into the car seat and later shrinking into the corner of the elevator. I wanted nothing more than to avoid drawing his attention or reminding him of my presence—even though the tracking bracelet on my wrist pulsed constantly, a silent testament that he always knew my exact location.

He carried all the packages into the spacious, brightly lit kitchen, setting them down on the island, and I timidly followed him, stopping short at the doorway. The Alpha casually unpacked the groceries and household supplies, arranging them across the marble countertop. Resting on a chair nearby was a plain paper bag devoid of any logos or labels—looking far more like apparel packaging than anything meant for food.

"Damian, before I begin working, I demand that you let me speak with my parents," I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest and digging my nails deep into my forearms to mask the rising panic threatening to swallow me whole.

"Oh? You demand?" He froze, casting a sidelong glance at the plain paper bag, which was sealed shut with a heavy sticker. "And if I don’t, what then?" Baring his teeth in a predatory smirk, he hooked the edge of the adhesive and ripped open the thick paper, peering inside.

"If you don’t let me talk to my parents, I’ll go to the police," I stated, striving to infuse my voice with maximum confidence while keeping my gaze locked unflinchingly on his face.

I desperately hoped to catch even the slightest flicker of emotion there—fear, doubt, irritation, anything that might reveal a chink in his armor. But Damian merely threw his head back and let out a loud, booming laugh that tore through the kitchen silence, instantly demolishing every pathetic attempt I had made to appear strong.

My cheeks instantly scorched with the burning heat of humiliation. I couldn’t fathom why I suddenly felt so agonizingly, tearfully ashamed of my own words. A bitter lump of resentment choked my throat as I realized how openly he had mocked my pathetic threats.

To an apex predator like him, my words were no more than a mosquito’s buzz—a pitiful, futile attempt at resistance that only served to amuse his warped, dominant mind. He knew I had nowhere to run, and even if I tried, his pack’s influence would ensure I was turned away at the very doors of the station.

"Catch." With a sharp, fluid motion, he tossed the paper bag straight into my arms. "Put it on and come out. For your bravery, so be it—you can talk to your parents."

Catching the rustling bundle, I watched numbly as the Alpha unhurriedly drew his phone from his pocket and unlocked the screen.

My heart skipped a beat with wild hope, and I bolted into the bedroom, completely blind for a fleeting second to the sheer cruelty of his trap. At that moment, nothing else mattered except the chance to speak with my mother and father, to verify they were safe, to hear their voices and know they were still alive.

Dashing into the bedroom and pulling the door tightly shut behind me, I hurried over to the bed. But the instant I tipped the bag upside down and shook its contents out onto the bedspread, a ruthless spasm seized my throat, cutting off my air. My eyes widened in horrified shock, and my arms went limp at my sides.

He was toying with me—deliberately, with sophisticated cruelty, breaking my psyche down step by step.

On the bed lay a short black dress made of slick, clinging silk paired with a minuscule white lace apron—a maid’s costume. Judging by how overtly trashy and cheap it looked, featuring a plunging neckline and a skirt with virtually no length at all, the man certainly hadn’t ordered it from any professional supply store for hospitality workers.

He had purchased it on an adult website, selecting the most humiliating, hyper-revealing model imaginable, one that could barely even cover my underwear.

And in his twisted view, I was expected to clean his massive penthouse wearing this—dropping to my knees, wiping away dust while enduring his dark, hungry, possessive stare. He didn’t merely want to turn me into a menial servant; he wanted to grind my pride to dust, forcing me to fasten a metaphorical collar around my own neck and willingly crawl out to him.

Looking once more at that humiliating dress, I exhaled, trying to calm my racing nerves. Pulling myself together, I let out a dry, defiant chuckle and walked over to my bag of belongings, pulling out a pair of short athletic shorts.

Summers back home on the coast were scorching, and I had bought them to lounge around the house. The lightweight fabric would hide well enough beneath the slippery silk, effectively ruining Damian’s vile fantasies of glancing up my skirt.

Changing quickly into the shorts, I stepped out of the room and headed straight toward the kitchen. The moment I walked in, Damian tore his brooding gaze away from his phone screen and locked it onto me.

He lowered his eyelids, and dangerous, eerie glints flickered deep within his pupils. As his eyes darkened dramatically, burning with an invisible, scorching flame, sharp goosebumps raced across my skin.

Even with the shorts safely hiding beneath the silk apron, I felt a searing wave of humiliation at how exposed I looked standing before him. Time seemed to freeze between us. Without ever tearing his heavy gaze away from my legs, the Alpha smoothly stepped forward—straight toward me.