The Billionaire's Sin

Velvet Chains

Amelia started falling head over heels for Damien, but Damien’s feelings for Amelia had always been there from the start; it always crept in to show itself from his little gestures. Amelia was scared to love or be loved, as she was never allowed to be a child, going from one menial job to another to fend for herself and her ailing father.

One dinner, Amelia softly asks Damien,

“Umm, please, Mr. Damien, would you let me hear from my dad? He is sick and I need to know how he is doing.”

“At least my call will ease him out,” she added.

“Sure, baby girl, you can,” Damien replied. “After that, I’ll get you a phone.” “I’m not your superior, love; it’s Damien,” he added

Amelia called her father to make sure he was alright, but deep down Amelia still had some unsettled feelings.

“Can I just go see my father?…pleaseee?” She let out that one question that has been pondering on her mind, “One of your men can come with me… I promise I am not running away or using that as a means to do so.”

“Damien, pleaseee,” she said in a pitiful tone.

“No, Amelia, now you are asking for too much,” Damien replied. “My answer is no.”

Amelia lost her appetite and left the dining table, but as she was going, she barked at him.

“I didn’t plan to be sold and kept in this house with a total stranger for days.”

“My life should not revolve around 'The Serrano mansion.'”

“I am yet to know what I brought here to do. Sleep with me if you want to sleep with me!!, Let me know that is what I was brought here to do!!”

“My father is the only thing that matters most to me!” she added, wiping a tear from her eye.

“And he’s sick, for heaven’s sake! Maybe if you have loved ones and you are not all sucked up in your ‘Serrano Mansion’, you would be able to relate better!”

Amelia banged the door behind her.

Damien remained silent throughout her venting, but he let out a long sigh of despair.

Later that night, Amelia planned to escape, despite knowing she would fail, driven by desperation.

She unlocked her door slowly and tiptoed down the staircase. Just as she was struggling to unlock the door, Damien showed up from nowhere.

“Where are you off to at this late hour, miss?” he said.

Amelia fidgeted at the sound of his voice, and it looked like she had just seen a ghost.

She continued struggling with the door before Damien’s shadow covered her.

“I see what is going on here,” Damien said. “You will do as I say as long as you are under my roof, you hear me, sweetheart…it’s for your good”

He threw her over his shoulder, locked the door, and kept the key in his pants.

“Let me down, Damien!” She barked.

Damien took her upstairs and gently laid her on her bed.

“Please leave!” she said in a keened tone.

“Amelia, there are a few reasons I do not want you to move around yet, and one of which is Rodriguez, so please!” Damien replied,

“I will leave now, but know that if you try to escape again…your efforts will be futile.”

“I will keep you safe as long as you are under my roof,” he added,

“I can take care of myself, sir!” Amelia replied

Damien closed her door and went to the library for a while,

“Why is all of this getting to me? ...nahhh, it’s not supposed to,” he said to himself, rubbing his chest.

From that day, what used to be a warm dinner and breakfast time went cold again all of a sudden, and none of them was ready to break the silence.

This silence was eating Amelia up.

One evening, after a long day at work, Damien came home to find Amelia hadn't come down to eat yet. He went up to check on her because he found it odd.

Even the dinners were cold, at least he got to see her face and be sure she was doing all right.

He knocked, but she didn’t answer, so he thought that she was still angry from the misunderstanding they had had the other day.

As he was going, he heard a loud sound that came from her room, accompanied by loud groaning.

Without hesitation, Damien quickly opened her door. He heard the sound of the shower still on.

“Are you fine, Amelia?” he softly said, knocking on the door,

“Ye-yes, I am,” she said in distress,

“You don’t seem fine to me, tie up your robe or something, I am coming in.”

Damien rushed in to help her out and into the room.

“You’re hurt,” he murmured in a low voice.

After giving her a massage on her ankle, she felt better.

Damien’s gaze was on her for a while, and she could keep her eyes on him for a long time. Amelia’s pulse stirred from the way he was looking at her now. Her chin rested in his palm.

His voice was low, almost hesitant as he said, “Amelia…”

She didn’t answer; she couldn’t. His hand came up, running along her jaw as he tipped her face to meet his. His touch sent a shiver down her spine.

Then his lips touched hers. At first, it was hesitant and almost timid, but it got deeper when she didn't pull away. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, and the other to his waist as he lay her softly on the bed. Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer.

Racing hearts and mingling breaths…the whole distance between them disappeared, as she could feel his strength against her.

She said, smirking, "Damien, don’t look at me like that."

"Then stop making me," he said, his voice raw with restraint.

“You make it hard for me to keep my distance,” he tucked her hair at the back of her ear.

She let her fingers run smoothly from the back of his neck to his chest,

“I don’t want you to keep your distance from me, Mr. Damien Serrano,” she replied, teasing him.

After that night, both of them started to feel more at ease with themselves. The intimate moment they had shared had knocked down walls that they had put up.

Amelia allowed Damien to see more layers to her. He spent more time with her, and they often stayed in her bedroom until both of them fell asleep mid-conversation.

One evening, he caught her in the kitchen when the cooks were done and retired to the boy’s quarters, dusted in flour, her face lit with quiet joy.

“You love this, don’t you?” he said, leaning against the door that he managed to open without her realizing it.

“It’s not the first time I've seen you in here…baking,” he added, pointing to the CCTV.

She smiled nervously. “Baking makes me… happy.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded flyer. “There’s a baking school—summer program. I passed by last week, and I thought of you. Would you like to enroll?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! “I would love to,” she said, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she jumped on him.

Before she could say any more words, he came closer, curling her chin and pressing his lips onto hers.

“I have admired you doing your thing from the CCTV maybe one or two times,” he said, smirking.

“One or two times?” she added.

“Mmm, all the time. I thought you would be a bit shy around me, so I decided to give you your privacy cause I will not be able to stop smiling when watching you,” he replied

“Oh yes, you would make knees shaky.” They both laughed as they ate the cookies and enjoyed the rest of the night.

The following morning, as Amelia went out to attend her baking class, the mansion’s gateman knocked at Damien’s door with a delivery. He brought a letter that he believed was meant for Damien. It was a thick cream envelope, sealed with a dark red wax stamp with a single letter: A. On the paper were just a few words he had no clue about:

“The rose remembers the hand that crushed it.”

Damien stared at the letter for a long while, his thoughts puzzled. “Who was the message for?” “What did it mean?”