The Grand Hall was filled with soft, sensual music and dim lights that cast a warm glow over the room. The brothel girls, dressed in their revealing outfits, stepped out from behind the curtains. Their hips swayed as they walked, each movement calculated to catch the attention of the men in the room.
The gentlemen clapped and cheered, their voices growing louder as the women approached. One by one, the girls stopped by each man, running their fingers along their shoulders, whispering sweet words into their ears. The room grew hotter with every passing second, the atmosphere thick with lust.
Damian entered the hall, his presence commanding as always. He ignored the noise around him, walking to the chair at the head of the room. He sat down, his sharp eyes scanning the scene before him.
The men were already showing signs of drunkenness, their laughter loud and their faces flushed. One of them leaned back in his chair, pulling a girl onto his lap with a grin. Another had two girls at his side, whispering into his ears as he sipped his drink.
Damian’s jaw tightened slightly as he observed the scene. He wasn’t in the mood for this, but he had agreed to the party for the sake of business. He leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on his hand as he watched.
At the far side of the room, Taylor sat apart from the others. His face was calm, his hands resting on the armrests of his chair. One of the girls approached him, but he raised his hand, stopping her in her tracks.
“I’m fine,” he said simply, his voice cool but firm.
The girl hesitated for a moment, then nodded and walked away. Taylor’s eyes drifted to the others, his expression unreadable as he watched the men indulge themselves.
Just then, the door opened, and Luna walked in, carrying a tray of wine glasses. Her steps were careful, her head slightly bowed as she moved through the room. The soft clinking of the glasses echoed in the otherwise loud hall.
She approached the first group of guests, offering them the drinks with a polite bow. The men barely acknowledged her, their attention focused on the women draped over them.
As Luna made her way across the room, one of the guests-a tall, man with a booming voice-stood up suddenly, pointing at Damian.
“Damian!” the man called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “You’re just sitting there like a king while we enjoy the show!”
The room fell quiet for a moment, all eyes turning to the man.
“Come on,” the man continued, grinning widely. “Show us something good! We’ve heard the stories. You’re a good fucker, aren’t you?”
A few of the men laughed, raising their glasses in agreement. Damian’s face remained blank, his eyes fixed on the man who had spoken.
The man turned his attention to Luna, who was standing nearby with the tray of wine. His grin widened, his eyes scanning her from head to toe.
“And that maid of yours,” he said loudly, gesturing toward Luna. “She’s a pretty bitch. Why don’t you give us a show with her? We’d love to see it.”
Luna froze, her entire body going stiff. Her hands trembled, and the tray slipped from her grasp. The wine glasses shattered as they hit the floor, the sound ringing out sharply in the silent room.
She stared at the broken glass, her breathing rapid and uneven. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to Damian, her eyes wide with fear.
Damian didn’t move. He didn’t speak. His expression was unreadable as he looked back at her.
The other men began to laugh, the sound cruel and mocking. “Look at her,” one of them said. “She’s terrified! Poor little thing.”
Luna’s heart pounded in her chest as she glanced around the room. The laughter, the stares, the broken glass at her feet-it was too much. Her knees felt weak, and she struggled to keep herself standing.
“Damian,” the man said again, his tone teasing. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re afraid to touch your own maid!”
More laughter erupted, filling the hall. Luna’s breathing quickened, her hands shaking as she clutched her apron.
Finally, Damian moved. He leaned forward in his chair, his sharp gaze cutting through the laughter. The room fell silent almost immediately.
“Enough,” Damian said, his voice calm but filled with authority.
The man blinked, the grin fading from his face. “Come on, Damian,” he said, his tone less confident now. “We’re just having fun.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think my parties are a place for you to insult my staff?” he asked, his voice cold.
The man stammered, his bravado fading completely. “I… I didn’t mean it like that.”
Damian stood, his movements slow and deliberate. The room seemed to shrink under his towering presence.
“Luna,” he said, his voice softer now. “Go clean up the mess.”
Luna nodded quickly, dropping to her knees to pick up the shattered glass. Her hands trembled, but she worked as fast as she could, desperate to leave the room.
Damian’s eyes swept over the guests, his expression hard. “This is your only warning,” he said, his voice steady. “Respect my house. Or leave.”
The men nodded quickly, their earlier boldness replaced with silence.
As Luna finished cleaning the floor, she hurried out of the room, her heart still racing. Damian sat back down, his eyes fixed on the man who had started the commotion.
“Apologize,” Damian said simply.
The man’s face turned red, and he muttered, “I’m sorry.”
Damian didn’t respond, his gaze sharp and unyielding. The room remained tense, the earlier excitement replaced with unease.
Lina, watching from a corner of the room, smirked to herself. “This is just the beginning,” she thought, her fingers brushing against the small bottle of pills hidden in her pocket