She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother Chapter 550: A Bait

Alex let out a low, gravelly chuckle against the heated curve of her neck, his dark eyes glittering with wicked, unrestrained amusement.

"Unless..." He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over her flushed cheeks and trembling, parted lips. "You actually wanted to do it right here, darling? With fifty pairs of eyes watching every shiver, every ruined sound?"

He leaned in just a fraction closer, his breath ghosting hot and teasing against her skin.

"Don’t tell me you’re that kind of pervert, Naomi. Getting off on an audience?"

A fierce, scalding rush of blood surged straight to Naomi’s face.

"Shut up," she choked out.

She glared at him, cheeks hot, eyes wet, fury written all over her face. Deep inside, she knew he was not wrong.

If he had not stopped, she would not have cared.

She wouldn’t have given a damn about the wealthy socialites sipping cocktails, or the staff gliding through the ambient light, or the sacred venue rules she was supposed to uphold. She wouldn’t have cared about blowing her cover, or ruining her reputation, or destroying the high-stakes contract she was being paid millions to execute.

She wouldn’t even have cared about her husband.

A few more seconds and she would have broken in the open and called it nothing but heat.

That scared her more than his hand.

She kept her palm on his chest, as if the hit could cover what she would not say, and forced her voice into something sharp.

"Don’t flatter yourself."

Alex caught her wrist before she could pull away and leaned in until his mouth was close to her ear.

"I don’t have to," he said softly. "Your body already knows what it wants better than you, darling. I can feel your pussy clenching and missing my fingers, or maybe more than just fingers. It wants my cock inside you. It wants to get ruined for good."

Naomi shivered.

The reaction was immediate and impossible to hide. A visible tremor ran through her shoulders and down her spine, sharp enough that he felt it against his chest.

For one unguarded second she could not stop the picture that followed. The thick, hard length that had been pressing up beneath her was no longer just a threat under cloth. She felt it in her mind the way she had felt his fingers, only heavier, forcing her open, tearing through her with a depth she had never taken before.

The thought alone made her clench again, helpless and furious at herself, as if her body had already decided it wanted to be ruined on him..

"But why should I care about what you want, sweetheart? It is not my job to look after every woman left hungry by a pathetic husband, Is it?"

The coldness in his voice cut straight through the picture in her head.

Naomi’s eyes snapped up to his face, the fantasy breaking all at once, leaving her flushed and exposed on his lap.

​"Unless, of course... you do something worthy of being rewarded."

​Hearing him spell it out with such effortless, clinical detachment hit Naomi with the brutal force of an open-handed slap.

​A sickening chill plunged straight into the pit of her stomach, freezing the molten fog that had saturated her senses just moments ago. It was not merely the razor-sharp sting of his insult that stole her breath. It was the suffocating, nauseating disappointment in herself.

​Look at what she had become in less than twenty minutes.

She was a Late Stage Enhanced mercenary. She had survived brutal black-site interrogations, executed wet-work contracts across hostile borders, and built a reputation on cold, surgical discipline. Her mind was supposed to be iron. Her body was supposed to be a weapon.

Yet here she was, trembling on a public barstool, her pulse wrecked, her thighs damp, reduced to an aching mess who couldn’t even control her own breath. The most humiliating truth wasn’t that he had dismantled her defenses... it was the terrifying realization of just how far she had fallen.

If Alex had stood up right now, taken her by the wrist, and led her toward the dark corridor near the private suites, she wouldn’t have hesitated. She wouldn’t have asked where they were going. She wouldn’t have weighed the risks or remembered her mission. She would have followed him blindly into the dark, entirely willing to let him strip away whatever shred of dignity she had left and ruin her completely.

She had surrendered all of it. She had thrown her body, her pride, and her professional cover straight at him.

And it hadn’t swayed him by a single millimeter.

That was the bitter pill lodged in her throat. Through every whispered threat, every bruising kiss, and every ruthless press of his fingers, Alex hadn’t lost his head for a single second.

While she had drowned in the heat, he had remained completely lucid, using her own runaway desire as nothing more than a lever to pry her open. He hadn’t been distracted by her beauty. He hadn’t been blinded by the dress, or the perfume, or the illicit thrill of taking another man’s wife in plain view.

He was still hunting. Still working toward whatever objective had brought him to this floor in the first place.

Alex let his fingers slide slowly from her wrist up to the side of her neck, his thumb resting over the erratic, fluttering beat of her jugular. His dark eyes caught the raw conflict flickering across her face... the bitter sting of defeat, the lingering hunger, and the realization that she held no cards at all.

A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips.

"You’re a clever girl, Naomi," Alex murmured, his deep baritone rumbling soft and dangerous against her temple. "You know exactly what currency I deal in. If you want me to finish what I started, you stop playing the loyal little lawyer.

Tell me everything about him and this deal."

"Should I even bother sitting down with him to close this deal?" Alex said, his voice dropping into a calm, measured rhythm.

Naomi swallowed, using the brief reprieve to pull cold air deep into her lungs.

She understood him at once. He was using her lust as a weapon, turning her own body into a lever against Raymond, hoping she would give him more than she should.

Slowly, the lingering shock on her face dissolved. A faint, brazen smirk curled the corners of her swollen lips, the smoky confidence of a dangerous woman returning to her dark eyes.

’If you knew who I am,’ she thought, ’you would never have tried this.’

She leaned in, resting her forearms lightly against his broad chest, bringing her lips so close to his jaw that the warmth of her breath ghosted across his skin.

"Will you fuck me if I tell you everything?" she whispered, her voice dropping into a sultry, illicit purr that held no shame, only pure provocation.

Alex didn’t blink. A low, dark chuckle vibrated in his chest, his eyes gleaming with cold amusement as his hand settled firmly over the curve of her hip.

"You’ll get a lot more than that, darling," he murmured. "Start talking."

A flicker of genuine satisfaction danced in Naomi’s eyes. She shifted slightly on his thighs, comfortable enough now to play her own card.

"The deal is a scam," Naomi said, her tone suddenly dropping the corporate veneer entirely. "Every contract, every preliminary meeting, every scrap of paper the lawyers brought downstairs... it’s all garbage. That perverted old bastard will never sell that property. Not for market price, and not for double what it’s worth."

Alex’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Why dangle it in public then?"

"Because it’s the last thing he has left of his son," Naomi replied, her voice turning low and biting.

"The company was founded on that plot. The building was designed and built when his boy was still alive. It holds the only memories the old man still gives a damn about. He would burn the city to the ground before signing the deed over to anyone."

Alex remained still, listening with absolute focus.

"He uses it as bait," she continued, a bitter edge slipping into her words. "He loves watching people jump through hoops for it. He’s been stringing along three different powerful families for over a year, letting them bid against each other, watch them hire mercenaries, watch them deploy high-priced legal teams. He sits back, drinks his bourbon, and enjoys watching everyone exhaust their resources trying to pry it out of his hands. And when they finally think they have him backed into a corner... he turns them down with a laugh."

She tapped a manicured nail against the center of Alex’s chest, her smirk sharpening.

"He isn’t looking for a buyer, Alex. He’s playing with everyone who walks through that door. If you walk into that room with an offer, you’re just another clown in his private circus."

As Naomi laid out the pieces, the lazy, amused smirk on Alex’s face gradually faded.

The playful suspicion that had lingered in his expression vanished entirely, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness.

"You mean he never planned to make a deal with me at all," Alex said. "I’m just a piece of his amusement."

The words came out flat. Inside, he almost laughed at her.

’Still not honest,’ he thought. ’You can never trust a woman like her, no matter how vulnerable she looks.’

They were still locked in that quiet war when a roar of cheers burst off the dance floor and pulled their attention with it.

Alex and Naomi looked toward the sound at the same time.