Bound to the Ruthless Billionaire Episode 13
900 Words
By Rhemita Storiesđź’Ą
Episode 13 – “The Dance of Denial”
The night was warm, but the air inside the mansion was cold enough to freeze emotions.
Elena stood at the grand staircase, her fingers tracing the polished rail as her eyes wandered to the tall figure standing below — Andrian Knight. He looked breathtaking in his black suit, his eyes like storms hidden behind calm waters. Every step she took toward him made her heartbeat louder, but she masked it well.
“Are you ready?” his deep, firm voice broke the silence.
Elena forced a small smile. “For another night of pretending? Always.”
His jaw tightened, and for a fleeting moment, she saw a flicker of something in his gaze — regret, maybe? But it vanished just as fast.
Tonight, they were to attend a charity gala — one hosted by the Knight family’s business partners. The press would be there, and the couple was expected to appear perfect.
Andrian walked up to her, his cologne wrapping around her like a dangerous whisper. “Smile, Elena. You’re the wife of Andrian Knight. Act like it.”
She raised her chin, meeting his cold stare. “And you, Mr. Knight, might try pretending you actually like being seen with me.”
A faint smirk curved his lips. “Careful, sweetheart. You might make me fall for your attitude.”
She blinked. Was that a joke? Or a threat? She couldn’t tell anymore.
---
The gala hall shimmered with gold chandeliers and champagne laughter. Everyone turned when they entered — the ruthless billionaire and his breathtaking wife.
Cameras flashed. Reporters whispered.
Andrian’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close enough that she could feel his heartbeat. She hated how her skin reacted — the involuntary shiver, the warmth creeping up her neck.
He leaned closer, whispering against her ear, “Smile wider, Elena. The world is watching.”
She smiled — but her words sliced back. “Then maybe the world should also see how miserable you make me.”
Andrian’s fingers tightened slightly around her waist. “You love testing me, don’t you?”
“Maybe I just enjoy watching you lose control,” she shot back.
His low chuckle made her stomach twist. “Be careful, wife. You might like the consequences.”
---
Across the hall, Roan — Andrian’s loyal but mischievous assistant — raised his glass in their direction. His smirk was teasing, knowing far too much. Beside him, Maya whispered to him, “Do you think they’ll ever stop pretending?”
Roan shrugged. “Pretending? My dear, that’s their foreplay.”
Maya elbowed him, laughing softly. But her gaze softened when it returned to Elena. She could see her best friend drowning in emotions she didn’t want to feel.
---
Halfway through the event, Andrian disappeared into a quiet corner — business associates swarming him. Elena found herself alone, cornered by reporters asking invasive questions about their marriage. Her throat tightened, but before she could answer, Andrian appeared beside her again.
He wrapped his arm around her, looked straight at the reporters, and said, “My wife doesn’t need to answer personal questions. She has better things to do than entertain gossip.”
The authority in his tone silenced the room. He led her away, out into the mansion garden.
The night air was cool, moonlight spilling across the marble path.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, her voice trembling between anger and confusion.
“Because you’re mine,” he said simply.
“Yours?” she repeated, disbelief coloring her tone. “You make it sound like I’m property.”
He stepped closer. “Maybe you are. For now.”
Her eyes widened, hurt flashing through them. “You’re insufferable.”
“I know.” He paused. “But don’t deny it, Elena. Something between us is changing.”
She looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. “You’re imagining things.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing her jaw gently, forcing her to look at him. “Then why do you tremble when I touch you?”
Her lips parted — no words came out. His proximity, his voice, his heat — it was all too much.
“Andrian…” she whispered, but before she could step back, he leaned down, his breath mingling with hers — a dangerous distance.
But then he stopped, his self-control slicing the moment in half.
“Go inside,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “Before I forget why I should stay away.”
Elena’s chest tightened. She turned and walked back inside, her steps shaky.
Behind her, Andrian ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “What the hell are you doing, Knight…”
---
Back inside, Maya rushed to her. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
Elena forced a laugh. “Just tired.”
But her trembling hands told another story.
From the far end of the room, Andrian’s gaze found hers again. There was something dark, burning, and unspoken between them — a fire neither could admit existed, yet neither could extinguish.
It was more than hate now.
It was something deeper… something dangerous.
And as the night ended, one truth became clear — for both of them, the line between love and loathing was starting to blur.
To be continued...
- Writer
