Lycan king's substitute breeder

Chapter sixty five

Isabella NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

The driver pulled up to the curb and I looked out the window. "Are we there already?" I asked, peering through my dark sunglasses at the restaurant in front of us.

"Yes, ma'am," the driver replied.

I glanced up at the sign that read "Foodies" in bold, black letters. "I guess we really are," I whispered to myself.

The driver got out of the car and opened the back door for me.

The driver came around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for me. I stepped out, revealing my new black stacy heels. The shoes were designer, and they made a statement as I stepped onto the pavement.

The driver bowed at me before entering the car to wait for me.

I looked away, pushed open the door and walked into the restaurant. It was elegant and classy, with a sleek, modern design.

I scanned the room, and my eyes settled on the man I had come to meet. He was sitting at a table with a cup of coffee in front of him. He was tall and muscular, and I had to admit, he looked even better in person than he did in his photos. I gave him a nod of acknowledgment as I walked over to him.

As I approached the table, he looked up and I gave him a smile. His expression was a mix of surprise and curiosity.

I took the chair across from him and sat down.

"So you're the one who's going to interview me?" he asked, his voice betraying his surprise.

"Is that a problem?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He paused, scratching his head. "Not at all, it's just... I wasn't expecting someone so young," he said.

I nodded in understanding. "I'm filling in for someone who's older," I said.

"Oh," he responded, and gave a slight nod. "I see."

"Should we get started then?" I asked, and he let out a deep breath, giving a nod of agreement.

"Yes, let's introduce ourselves first. I'm Isabella Vikon," I said, offering my hand for a handshake.

He took my hand and gave it a firm shake. "I'm Damien Spencer. It's a pleasure to meet you, Isabella."

I smiled warmly at him. "The pleasure's all mine, Damien." I took off my sunglasses and placed them on the table, then set my bag down on the arm of the chair.

"So, what would you like to know about me, Isabella?" Damien asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, for starters, how long have you been doing this job?" I asked, curious about his career.

"A job?" he asked, his brows arching in surprise. "What did you hear?"

"I heard you do martial arts," I said, a smile spreading across my face. "Is that true?"

"Well, yes, I've done a lot of martial arts," he said, sounding a bit proud. "Jujitsu, karate, taekwondo, judo...I could go on and on. Oh, there's also boxing, Muay Thai, and wrestling," he continued. "I've studied a lot of different styles over the years. And, I even work as a security guard and a bouncer sometimes, but just on a part-time basis." He gave an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

"Wow, that's nice. So, what do you do currently?" I asked, my eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"I've been a professional boxer for about seven years now. That's my current and main job," he replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

I looked around and waved to the waiter, who smiled and made his way over to our table.

"How can I help you?" he asked, his voice polite and professional.

"I'll have the same coffee as the gentleman here," I said, pointing to Damien's cup of coffee. "I can't resist the sweet aroma."

"Of course," he said, taking a quick glance at the cup of coffee on the table before giving a small bow and walking away.

It was only a minute before the waiter returned with my coffee, placing it gently on the table. "Thank you," I said, giving him a smile.

I looked at Damien as I picked up the cup and took a deep whiff of the steaming brew, closing my eyes as the aroma enveloped me. Then, I took a small sip.

"Mmm, that's nice," I said, as I put the cup back on the table. "I really like it."

He looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face.

"You know, I think I like you, Mr. Damien Spencer," I said, and his eyes widened in surprise.

He blinked a few times. "I... I beg your pardon?" he stammered, clearly taken aback by my comment.

"I like your energy, your vibe," I explained, my tone light and playful. "I have a feeling you'd make a great trainer, a fantastic spy, and an expert seducer."

"I-I don't quite understand," he stammered, his brows furrowing as he struggled to follow my train of thought.

"No worries, it's all good," I reassured him, my voice gentle and friendly. "If you'd like, I can offer you a new job."

"Oh, well... I guess that would be interesting to hear about," he said hesitantly, still looking a bit uncertain. "But I can't imagine anything being better than my current job as a boxer."

"I want you to train someone," I continued, "but your job won't be training them in the conventional sense. Instead, I need you to spy on them and report back to me with all the details." I paused to take a sip of my coffee, relishing the rich, bold flavor.

"Furthermore," I continued, "I need you to seduce the trainee. I'll pay you well for your efforts, of course - millions, even. And I'll cover all your living expenses, of course."

"No way!" he scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm not interested, and I can't do that. I don't even want to!"

"Wait, what?" I asked, a puzzled look on my face. "Why not?"

"I'm not gay," he said, his eyes narrowing.

I burst out laughing, and he gave me a half-hearted glare. "It's not funny," he said, his lips curling into a frown.

As my laughter died down, I shook my head and smiled. "You do know the trainee we're talking about here is a woman, right?" I said, winking at him. "A very beautiful woman."

His eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. "Oh," he finally said, scratching the back of his head. "My apologies. I just assumed..." He trailed off, looking embarrassed.

"Nah, you don't have to worry," I chuckled saying my head. "It's fine"