Chosen by the Living Reaper: But I Was the Succubus He Couldn't Resist

The three members of the Hartwell family were dragged out of the Blackwood estate like garbage, Margaret's unwilling wails and curses echoing from outside the gate.

Right in front of me, Damian made another call.

"Cut off all cooperation with Hartwell Group. I want a report showing their cash flow collapse within thirty minutes."

I stood there, completely stunned.

The Hartwell Group might not compare to the Blackwoods, but in Kingsford, they were still a name that mattered.

And just like that, one call from Damian could destroy them?

Was he… doing this for me?

The moment that thought surfaced, my heart started pounding uncontrollably.

Almost without thinking, I reached out and grabbed the edge of his suit jacket.

He stopped mid-step, his body going stiff.

I tilted my head up, cautiously studying his profile. "Are you… doing this to stand up for me?"

Damian stiffly pulled his jacket free, turning his head away as he let out a cold snort.

"Don't flatter yourself. They just dirtied my carpet."

There he went again.

Saying the harshest things, yet doing the kindest ones.

How could someone be this awkward… and somehow this adorable?

An unfamiliar impulse surged through me.

Without thinking, I rushed forward and wrapped my arms tightly around him from behind.

"Damian, I really like you!"

I meant every word.

For a succubus who'd been starving for centuries, Damian was both a walking feast and the one who stood up for me.

How could I not like him?

I was practically obsessed.

The moment I hugged him, his entire body went rigid.

His hands froze at his sides, like he had no idea what to do with them.

It took him a full ten seconds before he seemed to regain control, grabbing the back of my collar and yanking me off him.

"You crazy woman! Touch me like that again and I'll throw you out to the dogs!"

He was practically shouting.

Dangling in his grip, my feet off the ground, I wasn't scared at all.

Through his slightly messy hair, I caught sight of his ears—flushed so red they looked like they might bleed.

He was embarrassed.

The so-called living reaper, feared for his brutality, was actually flustered by nothing more than a hug and a confession.

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

Damian's face darkened even further. He tossed me onto the sofa and stormed into the study, slamming the door behind him.

That night, even after eating my fill, I couldn't fall asleep no matter how much I tossed and turned.

All I could think about was the way his ears had turned red.

By midnight, that familiar hunger began creeping back in.

No matter how full I was, for a succubus, the only real sustenance was essence.

After hesitating again and again, I still couldn't resist slipping into Damian's bedroom once more.

This time, I didn't dare entertain any bold ideas.

I simply leaned closer to the bed, gazing at his sleeping face, then quickly pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his forehead—light as a butterfly's wing.

Just that tiny trace of essence was enough to carry me through the night.

In the darkness, I clearly saw his long lashes tremble—just once.

But he never opened his eyes… and he didn't push me away.