The Billionaire's Forced Bride

A Dangerous Game

Chapter 13

A Dangerous Game

Damian's POV

Amara's voice vibrated in the room, shaking with frustration.

“I’m not some damsel you can keep caged, Damian,” she snapped, her hands balled into fists. “If you have something to say, say it. Stop hiding behind your cold, brooding act.”

I leaned against the granite kitchen counter, arms folded, watching her with a calculated stare. She was fuming, cheeks flushed, her chest heaving with every breath. She looked breathtakingly beautiful when she was angry. That was the problem.

Every time I saw her, I wanted more. More of her warmth, her presence, her fire. But I couldn’t allow it. Falling for her wasn’t an option. Love was chaos, and chaos made fools of even the most ruthless men.

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” I said coolly, my voice a sharp contrast to her fiery tone. “You’re here for the baby, Amara. That’s it.”

Her eyes widened, hurt flashing across her face before she masked it with anger. “The baby? That’s all you see me as now...a vessel for your heir?”

“Stop twisting my words,” I shot back, my jaw tightening. I turned away, focusing on the skyline visible from the floor-to-ceiling windows. “You’re reading too much meaning into this.”

“Am I?” she demanded, stepping closer. “You pull me into your world, insist on this sham of a marriage, and now you act like I’m some stranger? What do you want from me, Damian?”

I clenched my fists, trying to rein in the storm brewing inside me. I didn’t want to admit the truth, not to her, not even to myself.

She stepped closer, her scent...a mix of vanilla and something uniquely hers...effortlessly disarming me. “You can’t keep shutting me out.”

“I said drop it, Amara.” My voice was low, almost a growl.

“And if I don’t?” she challenged, her chin tilted defiantly.

That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, I closed the distance between us, grabbed her by the waist, and crushed my lips to hers.

The kiss was fierce, almost punishing, but she didn’t pull away. Her hands gripped tightly to my shirt, and for a moment, the world stopped. It was just us, tangled in a whirlwind of emotions too raw to name.

When I finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her breath shallow. She stared at me, wide-eyed, her defiance replaced with something else...something that mirrored the confusion in me.

“Wh-what was that?” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“A warning,” I said, though the words felt hollow. I stepped back, putting much-needed distance between us. “Don’t push me, Amara.”

But even as I said it, my resolve unshakable. The taste of her lingered, and I hated how much I wanted more. Pushing her away was supposed to keep me safe, but it was doing the opposite. The more I tried to distance myself, the more I craved her, to have her close by.

She touched her lips, her brows furrowing in confusion. “You can’t keep doing this...pushing me away and then...this.”

“I can and I will,” I replied, though my voice lacked conviction. I turned my back to her, staring out the window again. “This arrangement isn’t about feelings. It’s about responsibility. Nothing more.”

“Then stop kissing me,” she snapped angrily.

“Stop making me want to,” I countered before I could stop myself.

Silence hovered around us, heavy and suffocating. I cursed under my breath, running a hand through my hair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to care.

“Damian...” Her voice was softer now, almost pleading. “You don’t have to do this. Pretend you don’t feel anything.”

“I don’t feel anything,” I lied, my voice hard. I turned to face her, forcing myself to look detached. “And you shouldn’t either. It’ll make things easier.”

I leaned against the counter, exhaling sharply. My hands were still shaking from the kiss, my heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. She was under my skin, and I hated it.

Love was for fools. That’s what my father had always said. It made men weak, vulnerable. I’d built my empire on strength and logic, not emotions. And I wasn’t about to let Amara ruin that.

But as I stood there, replaying the kiss in my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was already falling—and that terrified me more than anything.

Amara’s voice rose sharply behind me. “You’re unbelievable, Damian. You kiss me like that and act as if it means nothing? What kind of twisted game are you playing?”

I stayed silent, staring at the city lights through the penthouse window. The skyline felt calmer than the storm raging inside me. She deserved an answer, but giving one would mean exposing myself. And that wasn’t going to happen.

“Damian!” Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she walked closer. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

I turned slowly, deliberately, keeping my expression blank. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with frustration. She was fire...burning, unyielding, and dangerously enticing.

“What do you want me to say, Amara?” My voice came out colder than I intended. “That it was a mistake? Fine. It was a mistake.”

Her jaw tightened. “A mistake?” She crossed her arms, her voice trembling with anger. “You kissed me, Damian. Don’t you dare dismiss it like it was some accident.”

“Because that’s what it was,” I replied, even as my chest tightened with guilt. “It shouldn’t have happened, and it won’t happen again.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You’re such a coward.”

The word stung, but I didn’t let it show. “Call me whatever you want. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Fine,” she said, her voice sharper now. “If you want to keep pretending you’re some untouchable robot, go ahead. But let me tell you something, Damian...I’m not going to play along with your little game any longer. You might be used to controlling everyone around you, but you don’t control me.”

I stepped closer, my voice low and dangerous. “You’re in my house, Amara. My rules.”

She didn’t back down, her chin tilting defiantly. “And what are those rules, exactly? That I stay quiet, look pretty, and act like this marriage of convenience means nothing? Newsflash, Damian...it involves me too.”

My eyes locked with hers, the sir between us heavy like a live wire. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” she challenged. “You’re scared, Damian. You’re terrified of feeling something real.”

“Enough,” I growled, my voice rising. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Then enlighten me,” she snapped. “Why do you keep pulling me closer only to push me away?”

I couldn’t answer her. Instead, I reached for my whiskey glass on the counter, taking a long sip to buy myself time. She was unraveling me piece by piece, and I hated it.

When I set the glass down, she was still staring at me, waiting. Her persistence was maddening, but it was also one of the things I admired about her.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” I said finally, my tone harsh. “This arrangement isn’t about feelings. You’re here for the baby, and that’s it.”

She laughed again, but this time, it was a hollow sound. “You keep saying that, but it’s not the truth, is it? You can’t even admit to yourself what you’re feeling.”

I should’ve walked away then, ended the conversation before it spiraled further. But her words hit too close to home. I closed the distance between us in two strides, grabbing her wrist.

“You want the truth?” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “Fine. The truth is, you’re a terrible distraction...a distraction I can’t afford.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting as if to speak, but I didn’t give her the chance. Instead, I kissed her again.

This time, it wasn’t to silence her or to prove a point. It was raw, desperate, and utterly reckless. Her lips were soft and warm, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

She gasped against my mouth, her body tensing before she melted into the kiss. Her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer. It was intoxicating, the way she responded to me, matching my intensity.

But then reality crashed down like a cold wave. I pulled back abruptly, releasing her as if her touch burned.

“That’s why I can’t do this,” I said, my voice strained. “Because the more I let you in, the more I want you. And I don’t want to be one of those fools who loses everything for love.”

Her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, her lips swollen and her expression conflicted. “Damian…”

“Don’t,” I said, holding up a hand. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

She stared at me for a long moment before stepping back, her arms wrapping around herself. “You’re so afraid of falling, but you don’t realize you’re already halfway there.”

Her words hovered in the air long after she left the room. I stood there, staring at the spot where she’d been, my hands curling into fists.

She was wrong. I wasn’t falling. I couldn’t be. Love wasn’t real...it was a weakness, a liability. My father’s cold, calculating voice echoed in my mind, reminding me of the lessons he’d drilled into me as a child.

But as I touched my lips, still tingling from the kiss, doubt crept in. What if she was right? What if, despite everything, I was already too far gone?

I shook my head, pouring another drink. No. I wouldn’t let it happen. Amara was a means to an end, nothing more. I would push her away, no matter how much it hurt. Because the alternative...letting her in...was far more dangerous. But how long will I be able to put up the act?