THE BILLIONAIRE FAKE BRIDE

Untitled Episode4

Ria pov



His grip did not loosen.

If anything it got tighter like he was scared I would disappear if he let go.

My arms hurt under him pinned hard too tight. His weight kept me trapped against the floor. Every breath I took smelled like alcohol, smoke and something else I could not name. It might have been sadness.. Maybe it was madness. The room felt smaller the longer he stayed close to me.

I tried to get free but it was no use. He barely reacted, like my strength meant nothing to him.

"Let me go, " I said,

my voice was shaking.

"I will not let you go, " he said away..

His voice was not steady. It was shaking a little like something inside him was fighting itself. His eyes looked into mine again, not angry now but confused and searching. It was like he was trying to figure out a puzzle that only I could solve.

"Violet," he whispered again.

That name hit me hard every time he said it.

"I am not Violet," I said firmly. "Look at me."

He did not really. His eyes kept slipping away like reality and memory were getting mixed up inside him.

Then I felt it, a change. His grip loosened a little, not enough to set me free. Enough to change the moment.

For a second there was silence between us, heavy and close.

His hand slowly left my wrist. He did not move away. He just hovered over me like he was scared I might vanish if he blinked.

"Then who are you?" he asked quietly.

The question was not sharp anymore

it sounded lost and I swallowed hard.

"I told you " I said softly "I am not her."

His eyes looked at my face again slower this time like he was trying to remember something that kept slipping from him. I should have pushed him away again. But I did not.

For the first time he was not pulling me like an enemy, he was looking at me like he was scared. His hand lifted. I stiffened immediately, but he did not grab me. Instead his fingers stopped before my cheek hovering there like he was testing reality.

I did not stop him. Neither of us moved. His breath was uneven now.

"Violet..." he said again, quieter and more fragile.

"I am not her, " I whispered back.

His hand finally touched my face lightly like he was scared I would break. The anger in him was gone now, what was left felt dangerously uncertain. He leaned closer slowly giving me space to stop him. I did not.

My heart was beating fast to think clearly but I did not move away either. His forehead almost touched mine. For a moment the world stopped fighting.

His voice dropped,

"Then let me know " he said, "just let me know if you are real."

Something in me tightened this was not the man from before not the violent grip, not the rage this was something else something breaking.

I exhaled slowly. Nodded once that was all it took. His lips met mine, careful almost like he was asking a question of taking anything. I froze.

At first my body told me to push him but I did not. Because at that moment it did not feel like control, it felt like desperation, like he was trying to prove I was not a ghost or a memory, a replacement for someone he had already lost. He pulled back slightly enough to look at me again searching my face waiting.

My breath was uneven now conflicted, before I could think much his hand moved again but not to hold me down this time it slid gently to the side of my neck. He hesitated, then carefully like he was scared of what he might find he pulled the fabric aside. My breath caught "Wait—" I started, but it was too late. His fingers stilled, his expression changed, something in him went still.

"Where is it?" he asked quietly. I frowned,

"What?" His thumb traced lightly along the side of my neck searching, not in desire. In recognition.

"The mark, " he said, "Violet has a birthmark here."

My stomach dropped, so that was proof, the thing that decided everything.

He was looking at me now like I was an answer waiting to be confirmed.

I hesitated, slowly carefully I turned my head and guided his hand to where my skin was bare.

"No mark, " I said softly.

Silently his hand did not move, for a moment he just stared at the empty skin like it had broken something inside him.

The tension between us shifted again. This time it was not heat it was truth cutting through illusion.

And he stepped back from me.