BOUND BY SHADOWS

CHAPTER THREE - FIRST DAY IN CHAINS

Amara barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face—smirking, predatory, beautiful in the way a wolf is beautiful before it devours you.

But she couldn’t quit. Not when this was her only shot at stability, at survival. Rent had to be paid, food had to be bought. If she left, she’d be back on the streets, and Damien Cross would win anyway.

So she dressed carefully, choosing a simple blouse and skirt, something professional that wouldn’t draw attention. The irony wasn’t lost on her—attention was the last thing she could hide from him.

---

The office buzzed with activity, but when she walked through, whispers trailed behind her. It was subtle but unmistakable. Every gaze flicked between her and the top floor where Damien’s office loomed like a throne.

“Is that her?” someone murmured.

“She’s the one he brought in personally.”

“Lucky girl… or unlucky?”

Heat flushed Amara’s cheeks. She kept her head down, clutching her folder like a shield.

Her assigned desk was near the large glass window overlooking the city. She barely sat down before a message popped up on her computer screen.

From: Damien Cross

Subject: Lunch.

12:30. My office. Don’t be late.

Her stomach sank. She had no choice.

---

At exactly 12:30, she stood outside his door, forcing herself to knock.

“Enter,” his deep voice commanded.

The office smelled of power and expensive leather. Damien sat behind his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, forearms strong and inked with faint tattoos she hadn’t noticed before. Dangerous. Untamed.

On the table between them sat a single glass of red wine. Just one.

“Drink,” he ordered smoothly, sliding it toward her.

Amara swallowed hard. “I don’t—”

His eyes sharpened. “You do now.”

Something in his tone made her hand tremble as she lifted the glass. The wine was rich and heavy on her tongue, but she barely tasted it over the sound of her heartbeat.

Damien leaned forward, his gaze fixed on her lips as she set the glass down.

“Good girl.” His voice dropped lower, intimate. “Obedience looks very, very good on you.”

Her pulse spiked, a confusing mixture of fear and something darker, more dangerous. She hated the shiver that ran through her body at his words.

Before she could respond, he stood and came around the desk. His fingers brushed the back of her neck, possessive, claiming.

“You belong to me now, Amara,” he whispered against her ear. “The sooner you accept it, the easier it will be.”

She jerked away, her voice cracking with anger and desperation. “I will never belong to you.”

Damien only chuckled, low and confident. “We’ll see, little dove. We’ll see.”