The Jealous Billionaire
538 Words
The mansion was too quiet when they returned from the gala.
Amara walked a few paces behind Lucian, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. She kept her eyes lowered, afraid of the storm she felt simmering in the air.
He hadn’t said a word the entire drive home. His silence was worse than his insults. At least when he insulted her, she knew what he was thinking. But silence? Silence was terrifying.
At the base of the staircase, Lucian stopped abruptly. Amara almost bumped into him.
“Upstairs,” he ordered, his voice clipped.
Her breath caught. She followed him, her pulse racing.
When they reached the master hall, he spun on her suddenly, his hand slamming against the wall beside her head. She flinched, trapped by the intensity in his eyes.
“What were you doing with him?” His voice was low, dangerous.
Amara blinked, startled. “Ethan? He just introduced himself. That’s all.”
Lucian’s jaw clenched. “That’s all?” His eyes narrowed, his face leaning closer until she could feel his breath against her cheek. “You smiled at him.”
Her lips parted in disbelief. “Is that a crime?”
His nostrils flared. “Don’t play games with me, Amara. I know men like him. Polite words, kind smiles—they’re masks. He wants something.”
She stared at him, stunned. Was he serious? This was the man who had told her again and again she was nothing to him. And now he was acting as though her smile mattered.
Her chest burned. “Why do you care?” she whispered fiercely. “You’ve made it clear—I’m just a contract. So why does it matter if someone is kind to me?”
Lucian’s expression flickered, just for a second, as if she had struck a nerve.
His voice dropped, harsh and raw. “Because you’re mine.”
The words hit her like a bolt of lightning.
Amara’s breath caught, her eyes widening. She searched his face, desperate to understand. Was this possession? Pride? Or something deeper he refused to admit?
Her own voice shook as she whispered, “Yours? Or your property?”
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating.
Lucian’s eyes burned into hers, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths—anger, frustration, something she almost dared to call desire.
Then, before she could step away, his hand gripped her wrist and pulled her closer.
Her body collided with his chest, her heart slamming against her ribs.
“Tell me,” he said through gritted teeth, his lips hovering inches from hers. “Do you want him… or me?”
Amara’s breath came in shallow gasps. She could smell the faint scent of his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his body.
Her mind screamed to push him away, but her heart betrayed her, pounding wildly, confused by the closeness, by the dangerous pull she couldn’t explain.
“I—” Her voice broke. She didn’t know the answer. She hated him. And yet… she couldn’t ignore the way her body trembled under his touch.
Lucian’s eyes dropped to her lips, his grip tightening.
The tension crackled between them, unbearable, like a storm about to break.
- Writer
