Owned By The Billionaire Devil

Chapter 10

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. My mind screamed at me to push him away, to duck under his arm and run, but my body was frozen like a statue.

My gaze dropped to his left arm, so close to my face I could see the intricate details of the black ink swirling over his skin. My mission screamed in my head: All I’d have to do is reach out…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A sharp, polite rapping on the door, right next to my head, made my eyes fly wide open in pure terror.

"Hunter? Are you in there?" It was Mrs. Grimshaw’s voice, strained and impatient on the other side.

Hunter didn’t move an inch. He didn’t even look away from me. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips, his mismatched eyes holding mine, silently laughing at the panic he saw there.

He was enjoying this.

The doorknob turned.

My heart pounded so bad it felt like it was trying to escape my chest. What if she saw us like this? Me, pressed against the door by her half-dressed, wild-card son? What possible excuse could I have?

As my panic hit its peak, Hunter’s free hand shot out and pushed the door back against the frame, stopping it from opening.

“I’m naked,” he called out, his voice lazy and unconcerned. His eyes never left mine. “Still wanna come in?”

A stunned pause came from the hallway. “I… I’m sorry,” Mrs. Grimshaw apologized. “You should hurry. Your uncle is here asking for you.”

“Hmmm,” Hunter hummed, making no effort to respond.

We listened as his mother’s footsteps faded away.

He was still staring at me, the dangerous amusement back in his eyes. I was this close to him. It had been more than the two minutes Chloe had prescribed. The opportunity was right here. I just needed to touch his arm, feel above his elbow…

Gathering every ounce of courage I had left, I reached out, my fingers trembling as they made contact with his warm skin. I traced a path up his forearm, trying to make the movement seem seductive, intentional, rather than the careful search it was. I focused on the feel of his skin under my fingertips, past the dense tattoos, up toward the bend of his elbow.

I felt nothing. No raised line. No scar. Just smooth, unmarked skin.

I blinked, confusion slamming into me. My eyes flew up to meet his. Those strange blue and brown eyes watched me with a knowing intensity, as if he understood exactly what I was doing...and exactly what I’d failed to find.

Wait. It wasn’t Hunter that night?

The thought hit me like freezing water. If the scar wasn’t his… then it had been Alistair all along? The man I was supposed to marry had been the masked stranger I slept with? Why? Why would he do that? Why did he have to hide? What game was he playing with me this time?

A hot rush of betrayal and nausea washed over me. I needed to get out. I needed to see Alistair’s face and demand the truth.

My hands, which had been on his arm, flew to his chest. I pushed him away with every ounce of panic in me, spun around, and yanked the doorknob.

"You’re just going to leave like that?" he asked. "What if someone sees you slipping out of my room? How would you explain that to my brother, or to all those important relatives downstairs?"

I paused, my hand freezing on the cold metal.

He had a point. It would look infinitely worse than being caught in here.

"Why are you even here," he continued, stepping closer again, his voice dropping, "instead of being downstairs with your fiancé?"

"I… I’m sorry," I stammered, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

"Aren't you scared of what I can do?" He asked.

I drew a shaky breath. "I had my reasons. Just forget this happened. After all… I’m your brother’s fiancée."

His expression shifted at my words. The amusement vanished, replaced by a darker, more serious look. "My brother’s fiancée," he repeated lowly, jaw clenched.

He closed the small distance between us in one smooth step, forcing me back until my shoulders hit the door again. He leaned in, his face so close I could study every expression. His voice was so low and dangerous that it made me shiver.

"You might not have heard much about me," he began, his tone conversational yet filled with threat. "But I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Grimshaw must have mentioned I’m… wild. Untamable." He tilted his head, studying my reaction. "There’s a reason for that. I can switch from the slightly obedient son to the man they’re all secretly afraid of in a second. The one who does what he wants. Who takes what he wants." He paused briefly. "And most importantly… anything I can’t have, I make sure no one else gets it either. I destroy it."

My throat went completely dry. Was that a threat? A promise? ‘Anything I can’t have’. Was I included in that category? Did he… want me? That couldn't be possible.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I was trapped by his body and the terrifying gravity of his words.

Then, another voice from the hallway, sharper and clearer, sliced through my panic.

"Who are you looking for?" It was Mr. Grimshaw.

"I haven’t seen Maisie since I got back," came Alistair’s reply, right outside the door. My blood ran cold. "I wanted to check on Hunter. I don't trust him."

I forgot about Hunter’s threat. A new, more urgent fear took over—the fear of being caught by Alistair himself in this compromising situation with his twin.

"What…" I whispered, unsure if I was asking for help or making a plan.

Hunter’s fingers came up, his thumb brushing lightly against my lips, silencing me. His touch was electric and commanding.

A new knock, firmer this time, landed on the door.

"Hunter? You in there? Open up."

It was Alistair.

I shook my head frantically, my eyes wide with panic.

"Don't."

Before I could utter another sound, he scooped me up in one swift, effortless motion. My legs wrapped around his waist out of instinct, my arms flying to his shoulders for balance. He held me easily, as if I weighed nothing. He glanced at the door, then back at me, his gaze locking onto mine.

“ What are you…” I started to whisper-yell...

…. But he didn’t let me finish. He leaned in and, before I could process it, captured my lips in a deep, sudden, claiming kiss.

My eyes widened in pure shock and surprise. The way he kissed me wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t asking. It was silencing me, answering Alistair’s knock, and staking a claim all at once. The feel of his mouth, the scent of him, the overwhelming shock of it was too much to bear. I had come to seduce him for confirmation, but in his arms, pressed against his lips, I was the one completely, utterly seduced...and trapped.