Lines We Shouldnt Cross
463 Words
Chapter 8: Lines We Shouldn’t Cross
The ride back to the mansion was quiet — too quiet.
Leila stared out the window, her hands folded tightly in her lap, still feeling the warmth of Damian’s lips on hers. She told herself it was just heat. A moment. A mistake.
But her body knew better.
And from the way Damian kept stealing glances at her in the dim car light, she knew he was thinking about it too.
They arrived at the estate past midnight. Marina greeted them with a soft smile and a nod, but even she sensed the shift in the air.
As they stepped inside, Leila turned to Damian.
“I’m going to bed.”
He caught her wrist gently. “Leila—”
She looked up at him, eyes guarded.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t make it worse.”
He let go, but didn’t back away.
“I didn’t kiss you for the cameras,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “That’s the problem.”
In her room, Leila sat on the edge of the bed, her dress still on, earrings forgotten on the nightstand. She felt… everything and nothing at once. Confused. Vulnerable. On the edge of something she couldn’t name.
Zara’s message popped up on her phone:
Zara: “Just saw the video of you two at the gala. Girl… THE WAY HE LOOKS AT YOU. Is this still pretend?? 👀👀👀”
Leila didn’t reply.
Because she didn’t know the answer anymore.
The next morning, she found Damian in the kitchen — barefoot, hair tousled, stirring coffee like it was a normal Wednesday. He looked up when she entered, his eyes immediately softening.
“I made extra,” he offered.
She nodded and poured herself a cup.
For a moment, neither spoke. Then she finally broke the silence.
“We crossed a line last night.”
His voice was low. “Yes.”
“It was one kiss.”
His jaw tightened. “It wasn’t just a kiss.”
She met his eyes. “We have three more weeks left in this deal. Let’s not complicate it.”
Damian leaned on the counter, gaze locked on hers. “What if it’s already complicated?”
Leila froze.
He didn’t press. Just walked out, leaving his half-full coffee cup behind.
Later that day, a new headline popped up on her phone:
“Damian Cole’s fiancée spotted wearing the Cole family heirloom necklace — real or PR stunt?”
She stared at the picture. Her smile. His arm around her. The kiss. The flashbulbs.
And the necklace.
The one he gave her before the dinner.
His mother’s, she’d learned.
Suddenly, Leila realized something terrifying.
The world was starting to believe the lie.
And so was she.
- Writer
