Bound By Fire

Chapter Six

Amelia

The conference room was quiet except for the faint hum of the AC, its chill doing nothing to settle the heat prickling beneath my skin. I sat across from Vanessa Blackwood, soon-to-be ex-wife of the man who’d haunted my every waking thought since that damned kiss.

Vanessa looked immaculate, as always. Her black silk blouse draped artfully over her frame, her hair pulled into a sleek chignon, diamonds glinting at her ears. Every detail screamed control. Composure. Power.

She smiled at me polite, cool, and knowing.

“Quite the week in the press, Amelia,” she said lightly, flipping through the draft settlement papers as though she hadn’t just detonated a bomb beneath my life. “I do hope the attention hasn’t been too distracting.”

My throat tightened, but I forced a calm smile. “It comes with the territory. The important thing is keeping the case clean. Our focus should be the assets.”

Professional. Detached. That was the armor I wore in moments like these. But under the table, my fingers dug crescent moons into my palm.

Because I knew.

She knew.

We weren’t just talking about the case.

Vanessa’s eyes lifted to mine, sharp and amused. “Of course. But you know how perception can… complicate things. Courts can be fickle. Jurors, too. A woman’s reputation is fragile. One whisper, and...” she snapped her manicured fingers, “shattered.”

I wanted to snap back, to tell her she had no right to lecture me on reputation when she was the one orchestrating the whispers. But my job wasn’t to confront her. My job was to protect her case and by extension, protect myself.

So I simply nodded. “That’s why we stick to facts. And facts,” I added, sliding a document across the table, “are still on your side.”

Her smile widened, slow and deliberate, like a cat toying with a cornered mouse. “Good girl.”

My stomach churned.

By the time I left the meeting, my face ached from holding the mask in place. I stepped into the hallway, shoulders stiff, lungs tight, and nearly jumped when I saw Damian leaning against the far wall.

His suit jacket was unbuttoned, his tie loose, as if he owned not just the corridor but the air itself. His gaze swept over me, sharp and unrelenting.

“How was she?” he asked, voice low, knowing.

I brushed past him, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Your concern is touching. Really.”

But he caught my wrist, just for a second, heat sparking through me at the contact.

“She’ll try to use you against me,” he murmured. “Don’t let her.”

I yanked free, glaring at him even as my pulse betrayed me. “I don’t belong to either of you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “We’ll see.”

-------------------------------------------

Damian

Vanessa always played the long game. That was the problem and the appeal. She didn’t make reckless moves. She set traps, then sat back and waited for her prey to stumble into them.

And Amelia?

She was already caught.

I knew it the second I saw her walk out of that meeting, her shoulders tight, her jaw clenched. She thought she could hide behind professionalism, thought she could keep her mask on, but I saw the storm beneath it. I always did.

And God, it made me want her even more.

In court that afternoon, Victor Hayes was flawless, dismantling Amelia’s witnesses with the ease of a surgeon. But my eyes weren’t on Victor. They were on her.

Amelia Cross, standing tall, her voice steady, her mind sharp. Even with the gossip leak shadowing her, even with Vanessa’s games needling her, she fought. Fierce. Relentless.

And every time her eyes flicked to me, every time she tried not to look, I smiled. Because she couldn’t stop.

When recess came, I followed her into the empty hallway. She was stacking her files, her hands trembling just enough for me to notice.

“You’re slipping,” I said softly.

Her head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

“You let her rattle you.” I stepped closer, closing the space until I could see the flush rising in her cheeks. “You let me rattle you. That’s two enemies at once, Amelia. You can’t afford that.”

She glared, her chin tilting defiantly. “You overestimate your power.”

“Do I?” I leaned in, close enough to catch the scent of her perfume, clean and intoxicating. “Because the moment you kissed me back, you handed it over.”

Her breath caught, just for a heartbeat, before she shoved past me.

I let her go, for now.

But as I watched her retreat, my chest tightened with something dangerously close to anticipation.

Vanessa thought Amelia was her pawn. She thought she could break her.

But Amelia wasn’t meant to be broken. She was meant to burn.

And when she finally turned that fire on me, I intended to be the only man left standing in the flames.