Rule #1 Gets Broken
1175 Words
Damien Carter stared at the ring in Amara’s hand.
For Ebele. Forever. 2002.
The blood drained from his face.
That engraving wasn’t supposed to exist.
And it definitely wasn’t supposed to be on that ring.
“Where did you get this?” Amara whispered.
Damien snatched the ring from her hand.
His jaw tightened.
His eyes darkened.
“You said your mother’s name is Ebele?”
Amara slowly nodded.
“Yes.”
A dangerous silence filled the conference room.
Damien looked away first.
“Coincidence.”
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“There are millions of names in Nigeria. My mother’s name is Ebele and your ring says Ebele.”
“Coincidence.”
“You don’t believe that.”
His eyes flashed.
“I said it’s a coincidence.”
Amara folded her arms.
“And I said you’re lying.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Damien slipped the ring back into the velvet box.
Conversation over.
“Get your things.”
Her mouth fell open.
“What?”
“We leave now.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“No explanation?”
“No.”
“You can’t seriously—”
“Amara.”
His cold tone sliced through the room.
“We have a wedding in forty-eight hours.”
She glared at him.
He glared right back.
Then she grabbed her bag.
“You’re impossible.”
Damien’s lips twitched.
Almost a smile.
Almost.
Twenty minutes later.
They sat in the back of a black luxury SUV.
The city lights flashed through the windows.
Neither spoke.
The silence was unbearable.
Amara lasted exactly three minutes.
“You’re weird.”
Damien looked up from his phone.
“What?”
“You’re weird.”
He returned to his email.
“Thank you.”
“No, seriously.”
She pointed at him.
“You offered marriage like you were ordering lunch.”
“You accepted.”
“I was desperate.”
“You still accepted.”
She hated that he had a point.
The worst part?
He knew it.
Thirty minutes later, the SUV pulled into an underground garage.
Amara stepped out.
Then froze.
Her eyes widened.
“That’s your building?”
The tower practically touched the clouds.
Glass.
Steel.
Money.
An absurd amount of money.
Damien didn’t look impressed.
Which somehow annoyed her.
“Come.”
She followed him toward a private elevator.
The doors opened.
They stepped inside.
He pressed his fingerprint against a scanner.
The elevator began moving.
Fast.
Very fast.
Amara swallowed.
“How high are we going?”
“The penthouse.”
“Obviously.”
The elevator kept climbing.
And climbing.
And climbing.
“Oh my God.”
Damien glanced sideways.
“Afraid of heights?”
“No.”
The elevator shifted slightly.
Amara immediately grabbed the nearest thing.
Unfortunately…
The nearest thing was Damien.
Her fingers wrapped around his arm.
The second she realized it, she let go.
Immediately.
His eyebrow rose.
She pretended nothing happened.
Neither mentioned it.
The penthouse doors opened.
Amara stepped inside.
Then forgot how to breathe.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
A private pool.
A grand piano.
A view of Lagos that looked unreal.
She slowly turned in a circle.
“This is a house?”
“It’s a penthouse.”
“This is a country.”
Damien actually laughed.
A real laugh.
Deep.
Unexpected.
The sound stunned her.
Because for the first time…
He looked human.
Then the moment vanished.
His face became unreadable again.
“Guest room.”
He pointed down a hallway.
“Kitchen.”
Another direction.
“Gym.”
Another.
“Library.”
Another.
Amara blinked.
“You have a library?”
“I read.”
“No.”
Damien frowned.
“What?”
“You look like someone who sends people to read for him.”
For the second time that night—
He almost smiled.
Ten minutes later.
Amara sat on the edge of a king-sized bed inside the guest room.
The room alone was bigger than her apartment.
Her phone rang.
Hospital.
Her stomach dropped.
She answered immediately.
“Hello?”
“Miss Okoye?”
“Yes.”
The nurse’s voice sounded urgent.
“Your mother’s condition worsened tonight.”
Amara jumped to her feet.
“What happened?”
“Her blood pressure crashed.”
The room spun.
“Is she okay?”
“For now.”
For now.
Two words.
Two terrifying words.
Tears filled her eyes.
Not again.
Not tonight.
Please.
Not her mother.
The call ended.
Amara sank onto the floor.
And cried.
Quietly.
Because she was exhausted.
Terrified.
Alone.
A knock came at the door.
She quickly wiped her face.
“Come in.”
Damien stepped inside.
One look at her and he knew.
“Hospital?”
She nodded.
He stood there awkwardly.
As if he had never comforted another human being before.
Which was probably true.
“She’s going to be okay.”
Amara laughed bitterly.
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“I don’t.”
Silence.
Then—
“I transferred the first five million.”
She froze.
“What?”
“The money.”
Her eyes widened.
“Already?”
“You signed.”
Amara stared at him.
People didn’t do things that quickly.
People promised.
People delayed.
People lied.
But Damien had simply…
Done it.
Without asking for gratitude.
Without asking for anything.
For the first time, she saw something beyond the billionaire mask.
And it scared her.
Because maybe…
Just maybe…
There was a good man hiding underneath.
Midnight.
Amara couldn’t sleep.
Her mind wouldn’t stop racing.
So she wandered into the kitchen.
Only to find Damien there.
Shirtless.
Her brain stopped working.
Completely.
The billionaire CEO stood barefoot in gray sweatpants.
No jacket.
No tie.
No armor.
Just muscle.
Lots of muscle.
Way too much muscle.
Damien looked up.
Their eyes met.
Neither moved.
Neither spoke.
The kitchen suddenly felt very small.
Very hot.
Very dangerous.
Then Amara remembered Rule Number One.
No attraction.
No feelings.
No complications.
So why was her heart racing?
She turned quickly.
“I’ll just…”
Her foot caught the edge of a rug.
“Oh!”
She slipped.
The floor disappeared beneath her.
Then strong arms wrapped around her waist.
Everything stopped.
Damien caught her.
One arm around her back.
One around her waist.
Their faces inches apart.
Too close.
Far too close.
Neither let go.
Amara could feel his heartbeat.
Or maybe it was hers.
The air changed.
Something dangerous passed between them.
Something neither wanted to name.
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips.
Then back to her eyes.
And suddenly…
Neither remembered the rules.
A knock exploded through the penthouse.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
They jumped apart.
Both breathing harder than they should.
Damien frowned.
“Who the hell…”
The knocking came again.
Louder.
More urgent.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
A voice shouted from outside.
“Damien! Open this door right now!”
Amara froze.
Damien’s expression darkened instantly.
Because he knew that voice.
And apparently…
He wasn’t happy to hear it.
To be continued…
- Writer
