Chapter 44: Damian’s Favorite

Ruby left the room, leaving Damian lying naked on the bed, mentally drained yet physically restored. After sleeping with Ruby, he had returned to peak condition and even leveled up five times. He did not have the time to check the notifications. It was already ten in the morning. He had left Clara waiting, he had work, and he had a meeting with Twenty tomorrow night. He still needed to organize his demands and review the case files again with Clara to fully understand what he could offer.

’But my wives are here. I’ll be rich soon when I have time to sell those cursed items. Do I still need to work?’

It was a serious question. Damian’s drive had always been wealth and comfort. Now his wives were here, and they could provide both without him lifting a finger. So should he keep working?

The answer was yes, no matter how many times he reconsidered it.

This meeting with Twenty was one that could change his life. Hazel had spoken about his potential and how he should not be working under anyone. He believed it now. Especially after facing a demon alone and surviving, Damian wanted more.

He wanted to build something that was his.

Damian rubbed his temple with a deep frown. There was too much happening at once. Everything was moving faster than he expected, and he felt thrown off rhythm.

Squeak.

His sharp gaze shifted to the slightly opened door. Half a face peeked through, staring at him nervously. Their eyes met, and they held each other’s gaze in silence for a brief moment.

Of all his wives, Racheal fascinated him the most. Hazel was a guardian. Ruby was a thug. One would expect the third to follow a similar pattern, yet she was the complete opposite. The woman staring at him was a sweetheart who would not hurt a fly.

“You look stressed. Should I come some other time?” she asked in a soft voice that made Damian feel guilty for the way he had received her.

He shut his eyes, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. The frown on his face melted into a gentle smile. He opened his arms wide in silent invitation.

The face by the door flushed red and lingered for several seconds before finally moving. When the door swung open and Racheal stepped inside, she was completely naked. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her perky breasts stood firm with quiet confidence.

She approached the bed slowly, climbed onto it, and crawled toward him. When she reached him, she paused, studying his face intently for a few seconds before speaking.

“Ruby was right. You are really handsome.” she said softly before lowering herself into his embrace and hugging him tightly.

Damian was caught off guard by the compliment, but he said nothing. He wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked her hair while feeling her lower body move slowly against him.

“Can… can we just talk?” Racheal’s request stunned him.

Hazel and Ruby had both been eager to claim him first before anything else. This was the first time someone wanted conversation before passion.

“Sure. What do you want to talk about?” Damian asked.

“You…” Racheal answered quickly, but her confidence faded just as fast.

Nearly a full minute passed before she continued.

“Are you happy to have us?” she asked.

“Of course.” Damian tightened his arms around her and pulled her closer. “Life has never been better for me.”

She nodded against his chest, her face still buried there, making it impossible to read her expression.

“Can I drink your blood while we talk?”

“Wait, what?” Damian tried to glance down at her, but her face remained pressed against him.

He stared at the top of her head with a faint frown for over a minute before sighing and nodding. His wives were demons, partly monsters. He should not have been surprised that one of them craved his blood. What surprised him was that it was the quiet one.

’The quiet ones are always the freaks.’

Racheal shifted upward, her lips brushing his neck before her fangs pierced his skin. His body twitched at the sensation. The sharp pain of her bite blended with the warmth of her body pressed against his. It felt like drifting in a vast ocean, surrendering to steady waves.

Once she latched onto his neck, she did not pull away. She clung to him, sipping occasionally while her waist moved with a slow, absent rhythm. Each pull sent a jolt through him, a strange mix of sting and release, as if something inside him was being drawn out and reshaped.

Racheal asked about his life, urging him to tell her everything while remaining pressed to him. The experience was both strange and comforting, unlike anything he had known.

Damian began with his abandonment. To his surprise, Racheal cried in his arms. She laughed at his lighter memories, wept at his hardships, and asked thoughtful questions that showed she was truly listening.

Without realizing it, Damian became immersed in the conversation. He gave her every detail, even how he felt in each moment. He never considered himself a good talker, yet Racheal seemed to draw that part of him out effortlessly.

When he mentioned Candice, she went silent. Not awkward silence, but a cold, dangerous stillness. She asked if he wanted to do anything about her. He immediately refused, and the tension slowly eased.

Even so, Damian was lost in their exchange. Time slipped by. Responsibility faded. Though no one had said it aloud, deep down he knew he might have found his favorite among his wives.

For her he decided to spend the rest of the day home and recover from last night’s battles. Though he planned to make a quick trip to Clara’s place by evening.

The rest of today should belong to his wives. They did bring him back, so they technically saved his life. Taking a day off won’t hurt anyone.

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