Chapter 5 Chapter 5
The car rolled through the iron gates of the house of seraphine, headlights sweeping over marble fountains and tall cypress trees. Greece shone beneath the dusk, a skyline painted in gold and sea-blue. At the center of it all, Jake Damon stepped out of the sleek black sedan, one hand tucked in his pocket, eyes sweeping the grounds like a man taking mental inventory of an empire that might someday be his.
The billionaires rarely traveled without purpose. Greece was the exception. Every year, a handful of the world’s wealthiest investors gathered for a weeklong business retreat, an affair of tailored suits, private conferences, and million-dollar conversations. The official venue sat perched on a cliff nearby, but most of the guests lodged at the House of Seraphine, a palace of relaxation and comfort known for its unrivaled discretion.
Jake’s assistant, Mason, was already on the phone as the staff approached. “Everything’s ready, sir,” he said quietly. “Your itinerary’s been sent. Madam Seraphine herself insisted on greeting you.”
Jake’s expression didn’t change. “Of course she did.”
He didn’t say it with warmth. Their last meeting had ended with raised voices, contracts torn in half, and Seraphine angry enough for her façade to slip for just a second, enough for Jake to see the shrewdness underneath her beauty. Still, business was business. The House of Seraphine offered comfort, and comfort was currency in a world that demanded performance.
As he walked up the grand staircase, the double doors opened soundlessly. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and new money. Chandeliers caught the candlelight and scattered it across the hall, where Madam Seraphine stood waiting, every inch of her draped in elegance, from the silk gown to the diamonds at her throat.
“Mr. Damon.” Her voice was smooth and velvety. “Greece shines brighter when you’re here.” She said allowing in Jake to peck her on both cheeks.
Jake gave a polite nod. “And you never miss an opportunity to make a good impression.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Impressions is my business.”
She led him through the long corridor lined with portraits of Greek myths, gods and mortals frozen in the art of temptation. The staff moved like a synchronized dance behind her, silent and efficient. “Your suite is ready,” she continued. “I’ve taken the liberty of assigning you a personal courtesan during your stay. Someone I trust to meet your every needs and desire.”
“Thoughtful,” Jake said, though his tone made it unclear whether it was praise or sarcasm.
“You and I have had… misunderstandings,” Seraphine went on, voice lowering. “Consider this my gesture of goodwill.” She said touching his arm gently.
Jake stopped walking. “I didn’t come here to hold grudges.” “And moreover you have never given me any of your girls, you’ve always taken care of me by yourself. Is it that you no longer crave my company? Or am I too old to make you moan?”
“Of course not,” she replied smoothly. “Still, peace offerings make for smoother business and this one you will love.”
Elsewhere, in one of the house’s preparation chambers, Lyra stood before a mirror barely recognizing herself. Two years ago, she had arrived here terrified and broken. Now she was polished into something the House approved of, confident, graceful, and aware of her power, even if she still didn’t understand its purpose. Tonight, Seraphine’s summons had come unexpectedly.
Her reflection stared back, a see through silk dress that clung to her figure, showing off her pert breast and perfect figure, outlining her slim waist, hair pinned neatly, a calm expression masking her confusion. She didn’t ask questions. In this house, obedience was safety.
The door opened, and one of Seraphine’s aides entered. “Lyra, Madam requests you meet our guest. You’ve been assigned to Mr. Jake Damon for the week.”
Lyra’s heart gave a small, hard thud. She’d heard the name whispered among the girls, the man who built empires from scratch, whose wealth rivaled countries, whose decisions ruined or remade lives. “Yes, ma’am,” she said quietly, gathering herself.
Back in the grand hall, Seraphine’s attention shifted toward the entrance. “Ah,” she said softly. “Here she is.”
Jake turned slightly. The girl who entered moved with quiet grace, eyes lowered, her presence oddly serene amidst the wealth and noise. She wasn’t dressed to impress, just elegance without effort like the dress was made perfectly for her, from the accentuation of her breast, to the slim curve of her waist. When she finally looked up, their eyes met, and something passed between them, Passion, Desire, Hunger and Longing. She was drawn to him immediately.
Her pulse races, cheeks flush as warmth pools in her core.
“Mr. Damon,” Seraphine said, her smile measured. “This is Lyra. She’ll be your personal courtesan during your stay, pleasure, relaxation , anything you require. She’s exceptional.”
Jake studied her for a moment, his heart skipped, Desire shot straight down to his groin, hot and sizzling, body primed and ready, his hands itching to touch her, to claim, to possess.
“ I am sure, she is” he replied.
Lyra dipped her head respectfully. “Welcome to the House of Seraphine, sir. Whatever it is you need, I’m at your service.”
Her voice was soft but carried an undertone of composure that surprised even Seraphine. Jake’s gaze lingered, assessing, not in the way most men looked at a woman, but like a strategist observing a piece on the board he didn’t yet understand.
Seraphine clasped her hands together. “I trust everything will be to your satisfaction.” Then, with a perfectly timed smile, she excused herself, leaving them in the quiet echo of the hall.
Lyra led Jake through the corridors, corridors lined with carved marble and amber light, the kind that made everything feel timeless. She pointed out the private dining room, the gardens, the study that overlooked the sea. Walking beside Jake, she could feel every nerve in her body responding to the allure of the man walking beside her. He walked beside her in silence, his footsteps even, his mind elsewhere. His thoughts on why should a mere girl from seraphine house affect him this much. No woman, not even madam seraphine had ever made him feel this way. The felling of wanting to protect and shield her.
“You’ve worked here long?” he asked suddenly.
“Two years, sir.”
He nodded once, eyes still forward. “And you enjoy it?”
Her pause was barely noticeable. “It’s… safe,” she said.
“safe,” Jake repeated, almost to himself. “That’s rare.”
When they reached his suite, she opened the door and stepped inside. The room was vast with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the dark Aegean, the distant sound of waves carrying through the night. She turned and handed him his briefcase. “Thank you, Lyra.” Jake said. Suddenly, noticing how the room lights plays with the colors of her eyes, and how soft her lips looked. Almost kissable
“Of course, sir.” She turned to leave, but paused when he spoke again.
“Tell Madam Seraphine,” he said evenly, “that her peace offering is accepted.”
Lyra froze briefly, not out of fear, but out of curiosity at the phrasing. Then, regaining her composure, she nodded. “I’ll let her know.”
She stepped out, closing the door quietly behind her. In the dim reflection of the glass, Jake’s expression was unreadable.
Down the hall, Lyra exhaled for the first time in minutes. The House of Seraphine was silent, but something in the air had shifted. She didn’t know why fate had placed her in his path, but she could feel it, his aura is drawing her in and she knows her story is about to change again.
