THE BILLIONAIRE'S FORBIDDEN OBSESSION

CHAPTER THREE -THE FIRST NIGHT

The moment I stepped into Damien's penthouse, I realized something.

This contract was going to be much harder than I had imagined.

The place was enormous.

Floor-to-ceiling windows covered one entire wall, giving me a breathtaking view of the city. Everything looked expensive—the furniture, the paintings, even the flowers arranged on the dining table.

I stood near the entrance with my small suitcase.

"This is where I'll be staying?"

Damien loosened his tie.

"For the duration of the contract."

I looked around.

"I thought I'd have my own apartment."

"You do."

I turned toward him.

"What?"

"Your apartment is being renovated."

I stared at him.

"Since when?"

"Since yesterday."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You arranged that?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're my girlfriend now."

I crossed my arms.

"Fake girlfriend."

His eyes settled on mine.

"To everyone else, there's no difference."

I didn't like the way he said that.

Before I could respond, a woman approached us.

"Mr. Cross, I've prepared everything."

Damien nodded.

"This is Amara."

The woman smiled politely.

"Your room is ready, Miss Bennett."

I followed her upstairs.

When she opened the door, I stopped.

The room was beautiful.

A huge bed. A private bathroom. A walk-in closet filled with clothes.

I turned around.

"These clothes aren't mine."

"They were selected for you."

"By who?"

She hesitated.

"Mr. Cross."

Of course.

I walked toward the closet.

There were dresses, casual clothes, shoes, handbags and even jewelry.

Everything was my size.

My favorite colors were there too.

I picked up a dress and stared at it.

"How did he know my size?"

The woman smiled awkwardly.

"I'm not sure."

She left.

I stood alone in the room.

Something wasn't right.

Damien wasn't behaving like a man who had just hired a fake girlfriend.

He was behaving like a man who already knew me.

I changed into something comfortable and went downstairs.

I found him in the living room, reading documents.

"Damien."

He looked up.

"Yes?"

"How much do you know about me?"

His expression didn't change.

"Enough."

"That's not an answer."

He closed the file.

"What do you want to know?"

"Who told you my clothing size?"

He stared at me for several seconds.

Then he said calmly,

"I have people who handle these things."

I didn't believe him.

But I didn't know what else to say.

Later that night, I couldn't sleep.

I walked downstairs for water and found Damien standing by the window.

He wasn't wearing his jacket anymore.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms.

He looked different without the intimidating suit.

He turned when he heard me.

"Why are you awake?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

He smiled faintly.

"I don't sleep much."

I walked toward the kitchen.

"I'll get some water."

Before I could reach the cabinet, he picked up a glass and filled it for me.

Our fingers touched when he handed it over.

A strange warmth moved through me.

I quickly pulled my hand away.

"Thank you."

He nodded.

I started walking back upstairs.

"Amara."

I stopped.

"Yes?"

His voice became softer.

"Don't be afraid of me."

I turned around.

"I'm not."

He looked at me.

"Good."

I smiled nervously.

"Good night, Damien."

"Good night."

I went upstairs.

But when I reached my room, I couldn't stop thinking about his words.

Don't be afraid of me.

For some reason, they didn't make me feel safer.

They made me wonder what exactly I should be afraid of.