Chapter10
1200 Words
By seven o’clock that evening, Amara had changed outfits four times.
Which was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
Because this was not a date.
Damien had technically never called it a date.
Even though everything about it felt dangerously close to one.
“You’re overthinking again,” her mother observed from the couch.
Amara glared softly while adjusting the sleeves of her black dress.
“I’m not overthinking.”
“You’ve stared at the mirror for twenty minutes.”
“That’s called preparation.”
“That’s called panic.”
Amara sighed dramatically.
Maybe her mother had a point.
The truth was simple: Damien Cole unsettled her in ways no man ever had.
Not because of his money.
Not even because of his looks.
But because he saw through her too easily.
And she was beginning to see through him too.
Her phone buzzed.
Damien: I’m outside.
Her heartbeat immediately betrayed her.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
“You’re smiling,” her mother teased.
“I absolutely am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Before Amara could defend herself further, Ethan appeared from the hallway looking much healthier than he had days earlier.
“You’re going on a rich-people date?”
“It’s not a date.”
“That means it’s definitely a date,” Ethan declared confidently.
Traitor.
Complete traitor.
Amara grabbed her bag quickly.
“I’ll be back later.”
Her mother’s expression softened gently.
“Be careful with your heart, Amara.”
The words followed her all the way downstairs.
Outside, a sleek black car waited beneath glowing streetlights.
Damien leaned casually against it wearing a dark button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled above his wrists.
No tie.
No suit jacket.
Less billionaire CEO.
More devastatingly attractive man.
Which honestly felt worse.
His eyes moved slowly over her the moment she approached.
And the quiet look on his face made warmth creep into her cheeks immediately.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly.
No games.
No exaggeration.
Just truth.
Amara looked away quickly.
“You clean up nicely too.”
A slow smile appeared on his lips.
“That sounded painful for you.”
“It was.”
Damien laughed quietly before opening the car door for her.
Again with the gentleman behavior.
Again with the dangerous charm.
Inside the car, soft music played quietly while Lagos glowed outside the windows.
For several minutes, silence settled comfortably between them.
Strangely comfortable.
“You’re nervous,” Damien observed.
“You make people nervous.”
“Not usually.”
“That’s because most people are distracted by your face.”
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
“My face?”
“Yes. Very inconvenient face.”
To her horror, Damien looked genuinely pleased by that.
“You think I’m handsome.”
“I think you’re arrogant.”
“But handsome.”
Amara groaned softly.
“This conversation is a mistake.”
His laughter filled the car again.
And once more, her chest warmed at the sound.
Dangerous.
Everything about him felt dangerous.
—
The restaurant overlooked the Lagos waterfront, glowing with golden lights reflected against dark water.
Luxury surrounded them quietly.
Elegant piano music.
Expensive wine.
Soft candlelight.
Amara immediately felt underdressed despite her best efforts.
Damien noticed.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Looking like you’re preparing to escape.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Too late,” he replied calmly. “I already kidnapped you for dinner.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
The waiter approached quickly.
“Good evening, Mr. Cole.”
Damien nodded politely before glancing toward Amara.
“You choose tonight.”
Her eyes widened.
“You trust my judgment?”
“No,” he admitted smoothly. “I’m testing it.”
Amara laughed softly despite herself.
God.
When did being around him become easy?
That realization unsettled her deeply.
After ordering, silence settled briefly between them.
Not awkward.
Just thoughtful.
Then Damien leaned back slightly.
“Tell me something real about yourself.”
Amara frowned carefully.
“That sounds suspicious.”
“It’s curiosity.”
“Dangerous curiosity.”
“Usually.”
She studied him quietly before answering.
“I wanted to become a fashion designer.”
Damien’s expression softened with interest.
“Wanted?”
“My father got sick during my second year at university.” She looked down briefly. “Dreams became expensive after that.”
Something painful flickered inside Damien’s eyes.
“Do you still design?”
“Sometimes.”
“You say that like it hurts.”
“It does.”
The honesty slipped out before she could stop it.
Damien watched her carefully.
“You shouldn’t have had to give that up.”
A strange emotion tightened inside her chest.
Because he sounded genuinely angry about it.
Not pitying.
Angry.
“You can’t save everyone, Damien.”
His gaze held hers steadily.
“I know.”
Something unspoken lingered beneath those words.
Something heavy.
Before she could ask, the waiter returned with drinks.
The interruption broke the tension instantly.
But not the feeling growing quietly between them.
That feeling only deepened as the night continued.
Conversation became easier.
Laughter came naturally.
And for the first time in years, Damien found himself forgetting work entirely.
No pressure.
No expectations.
Just Amara.
Real.
Honest.
Beautiful.
And dangerously impossible to ignore.
Halfway through dinner, Amara caught him staring again.
“You do that a lot.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like you’re solving a puzzle.”
Damien smiled faintly.
“Maybe I am.”
“Well stop. It’s unsettling.”
“You intrigue me.”
The quiet sincerity in his voice made her heartbeat stumble again.
“Why?” she asked softly.
Damien hesitated.
Then honestly—
“Because you don’t want anything from me.”
The answer stunned her.
Not because it sounded romantic.
Because it sounded lonely.
And suddenly she understood something heartbreaking.
People loved Damien Cole’s wealth.
His power.
His status.
But very few loved him.
The man beneath all of it.
Before she realized what she was doing, Amara reached across the table gently touching his hand.
The contact shocked both of them.
Damien went completely still.
Their eyes locked.
And suddenly the restaurant around them disappeared.
No music.
No voices.
Only this moment.
This dangerous closeness neither of them expected.
Then camera flashes exploded nearby.
Amara jerked backward instantly.
A paparazzi photographer stood outside the restaurant windows taking pictures rapidly.
Reality crashed back immediately.
Damien’s expression darkened dangerously.
The photographer vanished seconds later.
But the damage was already done.
Amara’s chest tightened with panic.
“This is exactly what I didn’t want.”
“Amara—”
“People are going to talk.”
“Let them.”
“That’s easy for you!”
The fear in her voice surprised him.
“You don’t understand what public humiliation feels like for women like me,” she continued quietly. “Rich men survive scandals. Ordinary women become jokes.”
Damien’s anger faded instantly.
Because she was right.
And suddenly he hated this world even more for putting fear in her eyes.
“Come with me,” he said softly.
“Where?”
“Somewhere quieter.”
Despite every warning inside her head…
Amara nodded.
- Writer
