CHAPTER fourteen
791 Words
Chapter 14 — The First c***k in His Armor
Rumors spread quickly in Rosewood.
And unfortunately for Damian Blackwood, he was used to them—
cold-hearted, arrogant, untouchable, dangerous.
But today…
today, the rumors weren’t about him.
They were about her.
About Amara.
Someone had posted a photo online — her coming out of the scholarship dorms.
Students whispered:
“She’s poor?”
“Why is Damian obsessed with her?”
“Probably pity.”
“He’ll get bored soon—”
Amara heard them.
Every word.
She tried to keep walking, head down, but each whisper felt like a slap.
She turned the corner and—
walked straight into Damian.
He caught her shoulders instinctively, steadying her.
His touch was gentle, but her whole body tensed.
“Amara? You’re shaking.”
His voice was low, controlled.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, pulling away.
But she wasn’t.
And Damian could see it.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not—”
His hand caught her wrist.
Firm.
Not painful.
But unignorably possessive.
“Amara,” he said softly, “look at me.”
She lifted her eyes—
and he saw it.
Redness around her eyelids.
Glossy eyes.
A tremble in her lip she tried to hide.
Damian’s world froze.
Something snapped inside him.
Violent, uncontrollable, destructive.
His voice turned from soft to ice.
“Who made you cry?”
Her breath hitched. “No one—”
“Give me a name.”
“Damian—”
“A face.”
“I said it’s fine!”
He stepped closer, his chest rising and falling too fast.
“It’s not fine if you’re upset,” he growled.
“It’s not fine if someone hurt you.”
“It’s not fine if they made you feel small.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
Cracked.
Damian Blackwood never broke.
But she was seeing it now—
the unraveling.
Amara hugged her books tighter. “People were just talking.”
His eyes darkened instantly.
“About what?”
“My dorm.” Her voice shook. “That I’m— that I don’t belong here.”
A razor-sharp silence.
Then Damian whispered, with quiet fury:
“I’ll kill the rumor.”
“Damian, no—”
“I’ll bury it.”
“No!”
He stared at her, breathing hard, hands flexing like he was restraining himself.
Then…
for the first time…
His mask cracked.
His jaw trembled.
Just slightly.
But enough for her to see it.
“Do you know what it does to me,” he whispered, “when you’re hurt and I can’t fix it?”
Amara blinked. “Damian…”
He looked away, like he was ashamed.
“I don’t…” He swallowed hard.
“I don’t know how to deal with this. With you.”
She froze.
He continued, voice lower than she’d ever heard:
“I can control everything. Everyone. My company. My life. My future.”
His fingers curled into fists.
“But I can’t control what you feel. I can’t control how they look at you. I can’t—”
His voice cut off, shaking.
“I don’t know how to be around you without wanting to break something.”
That’s when she realized—
He was spiraling.
Emotionally.
Dangerously.
And she was the only one who could stop it.
Slowly… hesitantly…
Amara reached out and touched his sleeve.
Just a tiny gesture.
Damian froze like she had placed a hand on his heart.
Her voice was soft.
Too soft for the chaos inside him.
“You don’t have to fix everything,” she whispered.
“You just have to… be kinder.”
His eyes snapped to hers.
“And I’m trying,” she added gently. “To understand you.”
Damian exhaled shakily.
No one had ever said that to him.
No one had ever tried to understand him.
Not the board members.
Not the teachers.
Not the people who feared him.
Only her.
He stepped back, giving her space—
true space this time—
and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry.”
The words came out raw.
Damian Blackwood did not apologize.
Ever.
But he was doing it now.
For her.
“I’m not good at this,” he said quietly. “But I’m trying. You need to see that.”
She nodded slowly.
“I do,” she whispered.
His shoulders relaxed—just barely.
And then, almost afraid of losing control again, Damian murmured:
“Let me walk you to class.”
This time, she didn’t refuse.
And the relief that washed over his face was something she would remember for a long time.
- Writer
