Damien POV
Three days. Three fucking days since Elena Vasquez had blown up our lives, and I couldn't stop thinking about Isabella's lips. The way her body felt under mine. The way she said my name when I made her come.
My half-sister.
The thought should have killed any desire I felt for her. Should have made me sick thinking about what we'd done. Instead, it only made me want her more.
Which was exactly why I was standing in our boardroom at seven AM, trying to focus on business reports while Isabella sat across from me in a gray suit that hugged every curve. Professional. Proper. Completely off-limits.
And I wanted to bend her over this table and remind her why she'd chosen me three nights ago.
"The Morrison account is doing great," she was saying, her voice crisp and businesslike. "We should see more money coming in next quarter."
