MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

The penthouse suite was cloaked in shadows, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city skyline at night. Rose stood before them, a solitary figure silhouetted against the twinkling lights, a half-empty glass of rich Merlot dangling from her fingers.

A sudden, insistent knock at the door made her start, the deep crimson liquid sloshing precariously against the sides of the glass. Rose frowned, her brow furrowing as she glanced towards the antique clock in the corner. Just past midnight. Who could be wanting her audience at this unholy hour?

"Enter," she called out, her voice steady despite the weariness weighing heavily upon her shoulders.

The door swung open with a soft creak, and a tall, imposing figure stepped across the threshold and into the dimly lit room.

Damien's chiseled features were partially obscured by the shadows, but his piercing gaze found Rose instantly, holding her immobile like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

"Good evening, my dear Rose." His deep baritone seemed to reverberate in the very air around them as he closed the door behind him with a dull thud. "I couldn't help but notice you have yet to make any move to join me at my residence, per our... arrangement."

Rose felt her throat constrict as she struggled to find her voice. Of course, their deal - in the aftermath of Blake's disappearance and the shocking medical revelation, she had momentarily pushed it from her mind in the swirling chaos.

"Damien," she managed at last, setting her wineglass aside with a trembling hand. The crystal caught the dim light, refracting it in kaleidoscopic shards across the polished hardwood. "I... wasn't expecting you," she looked around her.

How had he gone past all her aides or were they asleep? But just as quickly as she wanted to get pissed with her security, she remembered whom Damien was. He could get into any where he wanted, undetected. But at least he knocked, right?

A ghost of a smirk played across his thin lips as he regarded her through hooded eyes. "Clearly."

With a few long, predatory strides, he crossed the space between them, his movements fluid and leonine. Rose's breath caught in her throat as his looming frame cast her in shadow.

"But then, I do so enjoy dropping in unannounced," Damien purred, shrugging out of his suit jacket and draping it carelessly over the back of the chaise lounge. "It's half the fun, wouldn't you agree?"

He made himself at home, unfastening his cufflinks and rolling up the sleeves of his crimson dress shirt in a tantalizingly casual display. Rose watched him warily, her heart thundering against her ribcage in time with the ornate clock across the room.

"I trust you've been... settling your affairs, so to speak?" Damien arched one dark brow in her direction as he poured himself a generous measure of bourbon from the crystal decanter. The amber liquid caught the light, glinting like liquid gold in the heavy tumblers.

Rose swallowed hard, willing her nerves to stillness. She could not -- would not -- allow him to see her fear. Not here, not now. But of all times, why was he here now?

"Yes, of course," she replied at last, proud of how steady her voice remained. "Though as I'm sure you can imagine, it's a complex process. Liquidating assets, tying up loose ends..." Her voice trailed off as Damien's penetrating stare seemed to pierce her very soul, holding her in place like a moth transfixed by a pale moon.

"I see." He took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering from her face. "And how much more time do you require to complete this... process?"

There was an undercurrent of warning in his tone, a silent threat that made the fine hairs on the back of Rose's neck prickle with unease.

"Not long," she assured him, silently cursing the tremor that crept into her words despite her best efforts. "Another week, two at most."

Damien set his glass aside with a soft clink, his expression utterly inscrutable. For a long moment, the only sound was the faint ticking of the clock and Rose's own hammering pulse.

"I'm afraid time is a luxury I cannot afford, Rose."

Before she could so much as draw breath, he was looming over her, his powerful frame dwarfing her own. The shadows seemed to elongate, swirling at his feet like the sinuous coils of some primordial beast. Rose held her ground, refusing to be cowed even as her heart thundered like a jackhammer in her chest.

"The Elder Council has issued their summons," Damien continued, his tone laced with quiet menace. "I am to take my place among their ranks in the coming days, long overdue if you ask me but we'll take what we get, right?" One long finger traced the delicate line of her jaw, and Rose shuddered at his feather-light touch. "And you, my dear... you are to be at my side. As my mate,"

Rose recoiled violently, her eyes flashing with defiance. How dare he touch her, order her about like some subservient plaything? She opened her mouth, a blistering retort poised on the tip of her tongue, but Damien cut her off with a low, dangerous chuckle.

"You seem to be under the misguided impression that you have a choice in this matter." His hand shot out with blinding speed, closing around her upper arm in a vise-like grip.

Rose gasped, more in shock than pain, and her free hand came up instinctively. Her nails raked across Damien's chiseled cheek with five succinct lines of crimson blossoming in their wake.

Damien hissed, more in surprise than agony, and his hold on her tightened until Rose felt her bones creak in protest. She opened her mouth, preparing to let out a scream that would shatter windows, but his other hand clamped over her lips, stifling the sound before it could tear free of her throat.

For a long, tense moment, they remained locked in that brutal embrace, Rose's eyes blazing with pure, unadulterated hatred. She struggled against his iron grip, thrashing like a wild animal caught in a snare, but Damien was immovable, solid as an ancient oak.

Then, something shifted in his expression, the hard lines of his face smoothing out into an unsettling calm. Slowly, inexorably, he released his bruising grip, allowing Rose to stagger backward. She clutched her surely-bruised arm to her chest, sucking in ragged gasps of air like a drowning woman breaching the surface.

Damien's nostrils flared as he scented the air, inhaling deeply. A muscle ticked in his strong jaw as he seemed to weigh his next words with utmost care.

"I'm sorry," he murmured at last, his voice a low, rueful rasp. "It seems my temper got the better of me. That was... unforgivable,"

His dark, glittering gaze raked over her slight form once more, this time with an air of confusion furrowing his brow.

"But surely I must be mistaken..." He trailed off, cocking his head to one side as if straining to hear some faint, distant sound that mortal ears could never detect.

Rose felt her heartbeat thundering in her ears, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Her pulse fluttered like a trapped creature beneath her skin. What new torment, what fresh hell was he playing at now?

But this wasn't her real worry. No, she knew in the deepest parts of her mind that it would only take so long for someone like him to find out. However, she hoped with the one last shred of good in her that some divine deity let this one pass.

Just this one time! She prayed in her heart.

Damien took a measured step towards her, then another, until his towering frame cast her in shadow once more. Rose held her ground, back ramrod straight, refusing to show fear even as every instinct screamed at her to run.

With agonizing slowness, Damien leaned in close, his lips a hair's breadth from her ear. Rose could feel the whisper of his cool breath against her skin as he spoke, his deep voice laced with a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

"I'm sorry, my dear, but... do I detect the beating of two hearts?"