Mr. Billionaire is Mine

CHAPTER 4 Beneath the Surface

The words echoed inside her head like a bell struck too hard.

Your father sends his regards.

Maya couldn’t breathe. Her legs trembled beneath her, and if Damien hadn’t caught her arm she might have crumpled to the pavement.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered. Her voice cracked on the last syllable. “He’s dead.”

The man smirked like he knew something she didn’t. “Is he?”

Damien’s hand tightened on her arm. His body was angled in front of hers, shielding her from the men, but his eyes never left hers. Something burned there—warning, urgency, but also… something softer, something she didn’t want to name.

“Not now,” he growled under his breath. Then louder, to her: “Run.”

The world spun. The men were moving closer, weapons glinting under the streetlights. Ethan’s fingers dug into her side, his small body trembling.

Damien didn’t wait for her answer. He dragged them down the alley, weaving through shadows, his movements quick and sure. Behind them, the SUV’s engine roared back to life, tires screeching as it gave chase.

Maya’s chest ached with every ragged breath, but adrenaline carried her legs. They darted through dark streets until Damien yanked her down a stairwell that led into an abandoned laundry room. The stench of damp concrete filled her nose as he pulled the rusted door shut behind them.

Silence. Except for their breathing.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She shoved at his chest, barely holding back tears. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to drag me through hell without giving me the truth!”

“Maya—”

“No!” Her voice cracked, rising too loud in the echoing space. “They said my father—my father. Do you know what that does to me? Do you even care?”

Something raw flickered across his face. He grabbed her wrists—not to hurt, but to steady. His touch burned, firm and unyielding.

“I care more than you know,” Damien said. His voice was low, almost rough. “That’s why you’re still alive.”

She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to hit him until he bled words she could understand. But his closeness tangled her thoughts. The heat of his chest against her palms, the way his breath brushed her cheek, the storm in his eyes… it pulled her in like a riptide.

She whispered, broken, “Then tell me who you are.”

His jaw flexed, and for a heartbeat, she thought he might finally open up. Instead, he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching hers.

“I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “Not yet.”

The ache in her chest sharpened into fury. “Then how am I supposed to trust you?”

“Because,” he murmured, “even if you hate me, even if you never forgive me, I will die before I let them touch you.”

The vow hit her harder than any truth could’ve. Something inside her cracked wide open.

Her breath trembled. Her lips parted with words she couldn’t form.

The space between them dissolved. One moment they were clashing, the next his mouth was on hers, hard and desperate.

The kiss stole her air, her anger, her fear—everything. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, while her fists bunched in his shirt, not to push him away but to hold him tighter. The taste of him, the raw heat, the reckless need—it set her alight in a way she hadn’t known she was capable of burning.

For the first time in years, she felt alive.

But reality slammed back in like a blade to the gut.

Ethan shifted, his small voice breaking the spell. “Maya?”

She pulled away, breathless, shame and heat flooding her at once. Damien’s eyes stayed locked on hers, his chest heaving, his lips still parted like he wasn’t finished.

She turned, gathering Ethan in her arms, hiding her trembling. “It’s okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

But sleep wasn’t coming. Not for any of them.

Above them, footsteps echoed faintly—searching. The men hadn’t given up.

Damien swore under his breath. He moved to the door, listening, every muscle coiled tight.

Maya’s heart was still reeling from the kiss, but fear shoved everything else aside. She whispered, “We can’t stay here.”

He nodded once. “We won’t.”

He waited until the footsteps faded, then motioned for her to follow. They slipped back into the night, sticking to shadows. Every block carried them deeper into the city’s underbelly, until finally they reached a warehouse by the water. Rust clung to the metal walls, but Damien moved like he knew it well.

Inside, he found a corner hidden by crates. “You’ll be safe here for a while.”

Maya sank down with Ethan, exhausted, her body trembling from too much adrenaline, too many emotions she couldn’t untangle.

She looked up at Damien. His face was half-hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable.

And still, she couldn’t stop replaying the kiss.

She wanted to demand more. She wanted to shove him away. She didn’t know which urge would win.

Her voice came out small. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He opened his mouth—then froze.

From the far side of the warehouse came a metallic click.

The sound of a gun being c****d.

Damien spun, knife flashing, pulling Maya against him.

A figure stepped out of the dark. Tall. Broad. Dressed in black.

And when he spoke, Maya’s blood ran cold.

“Hello, daughter.”

Her entire body went still.

The voice was deep. Familiar.

It was her father.

Maya finally meets with the father she thought was dead, right after her first kiss with Damien.