Chapter Three –Dangerous Games
1089 Words
Aria Cole strode into the gallery the next morning, heels clicking sharply against polished marble. Her thoughts were still tangled in last night’s chaos, Damon Blackwood’s smirk, and that terrifying glint in his eyes that had made her stomach twist. She hadn’t slept, not really. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him towering, predatory, amber eyes flickering unnaturally in the alley.
She shook her head, trying to dismiss it. He was human. A dangerous billionaire, yes, but still human. No one provoked her the way he did and walked away untouched.
The gallery smelled of varnish, coffee, and faint traces of the previous night’s celebration. Her assistant peeked from behind a stack of canvases, cheeks flushed. “He’s here,” she whispered.
Aria groaned. Perfect. Just what I needed before breakfast: Mr. Alpha himself.
Damon Blackwood stood at the far end of the gallery, hands tucked into the pockets of his black coat, shoulders straight, every inch the predator. He wasn’t smiling, but the energy radiating off him made the room feel smaller, more dangerous.
“Good morning,” Aria said, keeping her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.
His eyes scanned her, sharp and assessing. “You’re late.”
Her brow arched. “Traffic was brutal. You’re late for life, but I don’t complain.”
His jaw twitched slightly. “You’ve been warned about flippancy, Miss Cole. Don’t test me.”
She smirked. “Test you? No. I provoke wolves.”
Damon froze, his gaze sharpening like a blade. “Careful. Provocation can be dangerous.”
Aria laughed, pacing the gallery, heels clicking like a warning. “Dangerous for whom? You?”
Something shifted in him, subtle, muscles tightening, the air thickening. She felt it in her bones, an almost magnetic pull toward him, though she refused to admit it.
“Touching that sculpture without permission is another violation,” Damon said suddenly, low and dangerous.
Her hand had brushed the cold steel of the sculpture without realizing it. She smirked. “Maybe it needs a little chaos.”
His eyes flickered amber, sharp, wild for a heartbeat. Her chest constricted. Did I imagine that?
Damon stepped closer, heat radiating off him in waves. “You are reckless,” he said, rougher now, almost a growl. “And I can’t decide if I’m impressed or furious.”
She held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Why not both? Admit it you like it.”
A dangerous half-smile curved his lips. “Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away with it.”
The gallery felt smaller, walls pressing closer. Every instinct screamed he wasn’t entirely human, yet she planted her feet firmly, daring him.
“You enjoy chaos too much,” he murmured.
“I enjoy being alive,” she shot back. “And so far, you’ve made life very interesting.”
Silence stretched, thick and electric. His gaze locked on hers, unblinking, predatory. Then he straightened, control sliding back into place, but the dangerous glint remained.
“I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met,” he said.
“Oh, I know,” she said, chin lifted. “And I don’t forget faces. Especially not ones that think they can scare me.”
Something flickered in his expression amusement, hunger, darkness. His lips twitched.
Then his pupils thinned, sharp, unnatural. Amber light glimmered for a heartbeat. Aria froze.
“What… was that?” she whispered.
In the next blink, his eyes were normal again, unreadable.
“Nothing you need to understand right now,” he said softly, almost gentle.
Her pulse raced. “Everything about you screams danger. I don’t like danger.”
“Good,” he said, voice dropping lower, growl threading beneath. “Because danger is exactly what you’ve found.”
Fear and something else exhilaration, a spark she refused to name coiled in her veins. She wanted to step back, to run. And yet, she stayed, stubborn, alive.
“You’re insane,” she said, forcing steel into her tone.
“Perhaps.” He leaned in, close enough to feel the heat, the faint scent of leather and something darker, almost wild. “But you like it.”
She forced a laugh, brittle. “I don’t like being afraid of a billionaire with a god complex.”
“You should,” he said quietly, low, a warning and a promise all at once. Her chest tightened. Her blood thrummed.
She swallowed. “Stay out of my way, Blackwood.”
He didn’t follow, but his eyes stayed on her, intense, burning, fists clenched at his sides. Muscles coiled, restrained, yet barely. The tension radiated off him, palpable, dangerous, magnetic.
Damon Blackwood wasn’t fighting her. He was fighting himself.
Aria Cole was chaos. Wild. Reckless. Unapologetically alive.
And she had already slipped under his skin.
For the first time, he admitted silently: controlling her would be the hardest, most dangerous thing he had ever faced.
And he was already obsessed.
She spun on her heel, heels echoing across the gallery floor. Every step felt like a countdown, every breath a reminder that she’d met something she didn’t understand—and couldn’t ignore.
Outside, sunlight was harsh, normal, and bright. But inside, in the gallery, the tension lingered, heavy. His presence was still there, lingering like smoke, pressing against her awareness.
Aria had faced danger before. She had survived threats, fear, and risk. But never like this. Never with someone who stirred adrenaline, fear, and desire in a single look.
Something inside herba reckless, stubborn, alive part wanted more. She wanted to understand him, to challenge him, to feel the pull of danger without turning away.
Her phone buzzed on the desk. Unknown number. She ignored it. But the buzzing repeated, insistent.
Aria sighed and answered. “Hello?”
A low voice, calm, dark, whispered: “You shouldn’t walk alone at night.”
Her blood ran cold. “Who is this?”
The line clicked dead.
Her pulse quickened. Damon? Or someone else?
She didn’t know, but a part of her knew she couldn’t ignore it. Something dangerous had begun. And for better or worse, she was already caught in the pull.
Aria pressed her back against the counter, taking a shaky breath. Her hands trembled, but a spark of determination lit her eyes. She wasn’t a woman to be intimidated. She wasn’t going to run.
Because deep down, she knew that running would make her want him more.
And Damon Blackwood would ensure she never walked away alive or untouched again.
- Writer
