MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Chapter 103: The proud bastard of ancroft

In the opulent confines of her sprawling mansion, Elena reclined on a plush chaise longue, basking in the soothing rhythm of skilled hands kneading tension from her muscles. Around her, the faint scent of vanilla mingled with the warm aroma of incense, creating an atmosphere of luxurious indulgence.

It had been days since her encounter with Rose which nearly tore down her mansion. But the taste of defeat was something she had spat out for long. Now she planned her revenge in the most diabolical way possible. But of course, planning took time and was exhausting.

Arrayed before her were a trio of Adonises, sculpted from marble and blessed with physiques that elicited envy from the gods themselves. Their movements were fluid, their touch gentle yet firm as they attended to Elena's every need, their naked forms a testament to their physical perfection.

In the corner of the room, a lone figure stood, his body as chiseled as the Adonises', but his purpose different. With a flute pressed to his lips, he played a haunting melody that filled the air with ethereal beauty, his eyes fixed on Elena with a mixture of reverence and desire.

As Elena luxuriated in her state of relaxation, the tranquility of the moment was shattered by the arrival of Drake, her loyal messenger and confidant. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the Adonises and the flute player, their departure leaving the room eerily silent in their wake.

"Madam Elena," Drake began, his voice smooth and polished, befitting his station as her trusted advisor. "I bring news of utmost importance."

Elena's eyes flickered with curiosity as she regarded Drake, her expression poised and regal despite her state of undress. "Speak, Drake. What news do you bring?"

Drake's demeanor remained composed even as he saw Elena in all of her form, he delivered his report. "It has come to my attention that Rose has paid a visit to Damien Durello, the prince of ancroft."

The mention of Damien's name sent a ripple of unease through Elena's body, her muscles tensing involuntarily. Damien was a formidable figure, his power rivaling even her own, and their alliance had been a tenuous one at best.

Elena's mind raced with possibilities, her thoughts swirling like a tempest within her. If Rose had indeed rekindled her alliance with Damien, it posed a threat to Elena's own ambitions, and she knew she could not afford to be caught off guard.

With a decisive nod, Elena rose from her massage table, her naked form a testament to her confidence and strength. Walking up to Drake who bowed his head, she said "Prepare my escort, Drake. I have business to attend to with the prince of ancroft."

As Drake hastened to carry out her orders, Elena's mind was already alight with plans and schemes. Damien may have allied himself with Rose for now, but Elena was determined to ensure that her own interests remained protected, no matter the cost.

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Damien sat on a regal throne engaged in a conversation with his own right hand person, Mimic, the shape shifting vampire.

They were going through matters together and at the present time, mimick was in her normal form.

The shape-shifting vampire, stood beside Damien with an air of icy elegance. Her skin was as pale as freshly fallen snow, a stark contrast to the dark hues of her surroundings. Her features were sharp and angular, giving her an otherworldly beauty that seemed to defy description.

There was a coldness in her demeanor, a calculated indifference that belied the chaos swirling beneath the surface. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of silver, held a haunting intensity that seemed to pierce through to the very soul.

Despite her striking appearance, there was an undeniable sense of danger that emanated from her, a reminder of the lethal power that lay dormant within. She exuded an aura of quiet menace, a silent warning to all who dared to cross her path.

"My lord, were you expecting visitors?" Mimic asked, her nose immediately alerting her of some presence.

"Ah...That scent. Both Shelly sisters visiting in such short duration," Damien lazily quipped.

No more than a day gone and Elena could see the shadows of Damien's castle from afar. She couldn't wait any longer to confront the two-faced bastard that dared double cross her.

Elena's car rolled to a stop at the foot of Damien's imposing castle, the dark stone walls looming overhead like silent sentinels guarding a forbidden fortress. From this vantage point, she could see the shadows dancing along the ancient battlements, a chilling reminder of the power that lay within.

Stepping out of the car, Elena couldn't shake the feeling of unease that washed over her like a cold wave. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and she couldn't help but shiver as she made her way towards the castle's entrance.

As she approached, the heavy wooden doors swung open with a creak, revealing the dimly lit interior of Damien's domain. The oppressive atmosphere seemed to press down on her from all sides, suffocating her with its weight.

Ignoring the chill that seeped into her bones, Elena strode forward with purpose, her gaze fixed on the figure seated upon the throne at the far end of the hall. Damien sat with an air of regal indifference, his eyes flickering with amusement as he watched her approach.

Elena's heels clicked against the polished marble floors as she approached Damien's throne, her gaze cold and calculating. "Damien," she greeted him with a nod, her tone laced with thinly veiled contempt.

Damien glanced up from his seat, his expression one of mild annoyance at the interruption. "Elena," he replied curtly, his eyes flitting back to Mimic, who stood silently by his side.

"You've been busy," Elena remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gestured towards the portraits adorning the walls. "I see your love for art hasn't waned."

Damien shrugged indifferently, his gaze finally returning to meet Elena's. "One must indulge in the finer things in life, wouldn't you agree?" he quipped, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Elena's jaw tensed at the thinly veiled insult, but she forced herself to maintain her composure. "I'm not here to discuss your taste in décor, Damien," she retorted sharply. "I've heard troubling rumors about your recent association with Rose."

Damien's smirk widened into a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Ah, rumors," he mused, waving a dismissive hand. "You know how people love to talk."

"This is not a matter to be taken lightly," Elena insisted, her voice growing steely. "If you've aligned yourself with Rose, you've made an enemy of me."

Damien's laughter echoed through the hall, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Elena's spine. "Oh, Elena," he chided, his tone mocking. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic."

Elena's fists clenched at her sides, her patience wearing thin. Clearly, this pampered royal blood wasn't taking her seriously.

"I'm warning you, Damien," she warned, her voice barely concealing her anger. "Cross me, and you'll regret it."

Damien's smile faltered for a brief moment, his eyes narrowing with a hint of caution. But just as quickly, his mask of indifference slipped back into place. "Is that a threat, Elena?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. "Or merely a promise?"