Betrothed to the Billionaire

Chapter 9

Lisa’s POV

“Careful,” he murmured.

Low.

Close.

Too close.

I pulled back immediately.

“I didn’t ask you to catch me.”

A pause.

Then…

“You didn’t have to,” he said.

My jaw tightened.

“Let’s try that again,” the coordinator said quickly, pretending nothing had happened.

Of course.

Because everything here was about perfection.

This time, I walked slower.

More careful.

More aware.

We stopped in front of each other.

Closer now.

Still.

“Hands,” the coordinator instructed.

I hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then I placed my hand in his.

And that was a mistake.

Because his grip…

Firm.

Warm.

Controlled.

Not tight.

Not forceful.

But intentional.

Like he knew exactly how much pressure to apply.

My fingers twitched slightly.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

“Relax,” he said quietly.

“I am relaxed.”

“You’re not.”

“I don’t need your observation.”

“And yet,” he murmured, “you’re reacting to it.”

My breath hitched.

I hated that he was right.

“Now, the first dance.”

Of course.

Of course there was a dance.

Music started.

Soft.

Elegant.

Too intimate.

“I don’t dance,” I muttered.

“You will.”

I looked at him.

“And if I don’t?”

A pause.

Then…

“Then you’ll learn.”

Before I could respond…

His hand settled on my waist.

My breath caught again.

Not aggressively.

Not carelessly.

But like he already knew exactly where it belonged.

“Follow,” he said.

“I don’t follow.”

A faint pause.

Then…

“That’s your first mistake.”

Anger flared.

But before I could snap back…

He moved.

And I had no choice.

He led effortlessly.

Like this wasn’t new.

Like control wasn’t something he practiced…

It was actually him.

I tried to keep up.

Tried to match him.

And then…

I stepped on him.

Hard.

“Oh…”

I froze.

Silence.

I looked up.

Expecting irritation.

Annoyance.

Something.

But his expression didn’t change.

Not even slightly.

“…You’re not as composed as you pretend to be,” he said calmly.

My eyes narrowed.

“And you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be,” he continued.

A pause.

Then…

“Who said I was pretending?”

My breath caught.

He pulled me slightly closer.

Adjusting my step.

Guiding again.

And this time…

I didn’t resist as much.

Not because I wanted to.

But because my body…

Was already responding.

By the time the rehearsal ended, the sun had dipped low.

Golden light reflecting across the water.

Everything looked… unreal.

“Small gathering tonight,” someone announced. “Only close associates.”

Of course.

Nothing here was ever simple.

The space transformed quickly.

Lights.

Music.

Soft conversations.

Champagne passed around like it meant nothing.

I stood near the edge.

Watching.

Observing.

And feeling it again.

That shift.

“Not enjoying your own bachelorette?

His voice.

Behind me.

I didn’t turn immediately.

“I didn’t realize this was mine to enjoy.”

A pause.

Then…

“It is.”

I turned.

Slowly.

“And yet, I had no say in any of it.”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“You had a choice.”

I laughed softly.

Cold.

“Did I?”

A step closer.

“Yes.”

“Between what?” I asked. “Losing everything… or marrying you?”

Silence.

Then…

“You chose correctly,” he replied.

Something in me snapped.

“You don’t get to decide that.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“I already did.”

My breath caught.

Because suddenly…

This didn’t feel like a conversation.

It felt like a declaration.

This wasn’t just a wedding.

This wasn’t just a deal.

This wasn’t just survival.

This was something else.

Something deeper.

More dangerous.

More intentional.

And as I stood across from him…

Finally facing him

I realized something that made my chest tighten.

This wasn’t coincidence.

This wasn’t business.

This wasn’t just control.

I wasn’t just walking into a marriage.

I was walking into a man who had already decided exactly where I belonged.

And the terrifying part?

A small, dangerous part of me…

Wanted to know why.

I didn’t leave immediately.

Even after the music softened…

After the laughter blurred into background noise…

After the champagne glasses clinked and people began to forget that this was supposed to be my night…

I stayed exactly where I was.

Still.

Watching nothing.

Feeling everything.

Because his words…

They didn’t leave with him.

They stayed.

“You chose correctly.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the glass in my hand.

Did I?

Or had I just… run out of options?

“Lisa?”

I blinked.

Lila.

Her voice pulled me back slowly, like I had been somewhere far away.

“You’ve been standing here for like… ten minutes,” she said, studying my face. “Are you okay?”

Was I?

I let out a small breath. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

Yes, I was but I didn’t say that loud.

Liam appeared beside her, quieter, observant as always.

“He got to you,” he said flatly.

I looked at him.

“No,” I replied.

Too quickly.

Too sharp.

And that alone was answer enough.

Liam didn’t argue.

He just nodded once.

Like he understood more than I was saying.

“Let’s go home,” Lila muttered. “I’m tired of this place.”

This place.

This… world that didn’t feel like mine anymore.

For once…

I agreed.

The ride back felt longer this time.

Not because of distance.

But because of the silence… not the comforting one that settles after a long day.

The kind that presses into your thoughts and forces you to sit with them.

I rested my head against the window, watching the reflection staring back at me.

For a second…

I didn’t recognize her.

She looked composed.

Put together.

Untouched.

But I knew better.

Because underneath that calm surface…

Everything was shifting.

Breaking.

Rebuilding into something I didn’t fully understand yet.

“You’re thinking too much,” Lila said softly.

“I’m not thinking enough,” I replied.

Liam glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

“That man…” he started, then paused. “He’s not normal… he’s just controlling things around you.”

I didn’t respond.

Because I already knew what he meant.

He was controlling the pace.

The space.

The timing.

And somehow…

Me.

“Lisa…” Lila called but carefully.

I didn’t respond immediately.

“Hmm?”

She hesitated.

“I don’t like him.”

A faint, humorless smile tugged at my lips.

“You just met him.”

“That doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “I felt him.”

Felt him?

That rattled me up, the rest of the ride was in silence.

By the time we got home, the house looked the same.

Perfect.

Unchanged.

Untouched.

Like nothing had happened.

Like my life hadn’t tilted on its axis.

But I knew better.

Because I wasn’t the same person who had walked out that morning.

“Get some rest,” my mother said gently when she saw me. Her eyes searched mine longer than necessary. “Tomorrow will be… a big day.”