The Sweet Spot

Damien's POV

I already knew I wouldn’t be the one making the visit to our little sugar mama. That was someone else’s job. Someone who had already slithered into her life without her even realizing it.

Gerald hesitated on the line. “Want me to send her address to you, or—?”

“No,” I smirked. “Send it to Liam.”

I ended the call, already feeling the gears of my next move clicking into place. Mrs. Osmond—Carlos’ wife—was his Achilles’ heel. Not because he adored her, but because half of his company was tied to her name.

She was a woman who loved the finer things in life—jewels, luxury trips, designer pieces that no one else could afford. But more than that, she craved adventure.

Carlos was the laid-back type, more invested in stock reports than spontaneity. Meanwhile, Claire was all about the thrill—fast cars, risky bets, midnight escapades in foreign countries. And when her darling husband couldn’t keep up, she looked elsewhere for that rush.

For her, money was never the issue. It was finding someone willing to break the rules, to dive into the deep end with her, to make her forget the man waiting at home. Lucky for her, Liam was more than ready to play the part—especially when it meant Carlos’ empire would crumble from within.

Liam was her perfect outlet. He offered her the wild rides, the danger, the spark that her old, predictable husband couldn’t provide. And she was willing to spend lavishly for every ounce of pleasure she got in return. The lifestyle? It came with a price. And lucky for me, she had no problem paying for it.

Liam is a man of many talents, but his specialty? Getting close. Sliding into people’s lives, earning their trust, making them believe in him—before yanking the rug from beneath them. It’s what made him dangerous.

And right now, Mrs. Osmond had no idea she was playing house with a wolf I trained.

If there was anyone who could give us leverage, it was her. All it would take was the right mood, the right words, and a long, long night.

Now, time to set my backup plan into motion.

——

The moment the address flashed across Liam’s screen, he knew it was showtime.

He exhaled, tossing the last of his whiskey back before grabbing his jacket and stepping out of the suite. The night air was crisp, but it didn’t bother him. He had work to do.

Mrs. Osmond had been especially needy lately. Always calling, always craving attention. He played his role well—gave her just enough to make her feel special, important. But tonight? Tonight, she was about to give him something in return.

The drive to her villa was smooth, the city lights fading behind him as he entered the more private, elite part of town. Her estate was a fortress of wealth—iron gates, manicured hedges, a driveway longer than most runways.

When he arrived, the front door was unlocked.

As expected.

“Claire?” Liam called out, his voice a low, knowing drawl.

A pause. Then, the unmistakable click of heels echoed down the grand marble staircase.

And there she was.

Draped in a silk robe that barely clung to her, her hair tousled in that effortless way that screamed both money and seduction. A slow smile curled on her lips as she locked eyes with him.

“You always have perfect timing,” she purred, descending the steps with practiced grace. As she moved, the robe parted just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth thigh.

Liam smirked, stepping forward, his movements deliberate. “Or maybe you just think about me too much.”

Her laugh was soft, teasing. “Maybe.”

Before she could say anything else, he closed the distance, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him. Her breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, he could feel the way her pulse quickened beneath his touch.

“I missed you,” he murmured, lips ghosting along her jawline.

She melted into him, fingers gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. “More than you know.”

He knew exactly how to play this. Every move was calculated—every kiss, every touch, every whispered word designed to lower her guard.

And just like that, she led him upstairs.

---

Silk sheets. Tangled limbs. The scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

Liam lay back against the pillows, watching as Claire curled up beside him, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

This was the moment.

The sweet spot between euphoria and exhaustion, when words flowed without thought, when secrets slipped free like whispers on the wind.

“Claire,” he murmured, fingers threading through her hair. “I heard something today… something about tomorrow’s board meeting. Do you think Carlos is up to something?”

Her body stiffened for a fraction of a second.

Bingo.

She hesitated before exhaling, resting her cheek against his chest. “Why do you ask?”

Liam sighed, letting his voice drop into something soft, something believable. “Because I care about you. Unlike your husband, who’s too busy securing his empire to even notice you’re here.”

A bitter chuckle left her lips. “You have no idea.”

He remained silent, letting the weight of her frustration settle. Then, just as expected, she spilled.

“He’s been making moves behind my back,” she admitted. “I overheard him on the phone with his lawyer—something about acquiring a new company. And Damien’s name came up.”

Liam’s heart pounded in his chest, but his expression remained calm.

“Damien’s company?” he prompted, stroking her back, keeping her grounded in the moment. “What about it?”

She sighed. “Carlos has documents ready. He’s planning to present them at tomorrow’s board meeting. If the votes go his way, he’ll take over Damien’s subsidiary.”

Liam’s fingers stilled.

This was it.

This was the information Damien needed.

“Are the documents legit?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She scoffed. “Hell no. They’re fake.”

Jackpot.

Liam pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Thank you for trusting me, Claire,” he whispered, his tone smooth, comforting.

And just like that, she drifted into sleep.

But Liam? He had work to do.

Silently, he slipped out of bed, reached for his phone, and moved into the hallway. The weight of Mrs. Osmond’s confession was heavy in his mind as he dialed Damien’s number.

The line rang once. Twice. Then—

“It’s done,” Liam murmured when Damien picked up. “Got what you need.”

“Good,” Damien replied, his voice calm but laced with anticipation. “What did she spill?”

Liam relayed every detail, every crack in Carlos’ scheme. Just as he was about to end the call—

A noise.

A faint creak.

A breath.

Shit.

His grip on the phone tightened.

Slowly, he turned his head.

And there, standing in the dim hallway, wrapped in only that silk robe, was Claire.

Her eyes locked on his phone.

Her expression unreadable.

Her lips parted slightly, as if forming a question she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to.

“Liam?”

A single word. Barely a whisper.

But Liam knew.

Knew that moment was dangerous. Knew she had heard something.

And just like that, the game shifted.