Chapter 4 – A Game of Control
409 Words
Elena’s fingers skimmed over the smooth fabric of a deep red gown, the price tag making her stomach tighten. She didn’t belong in a place like this, surrounded by silk, diamonds, and perfumes that cost more than a year’s rent.
But Damon stood near the entrance, watching her with an expression that was both expectant and amused.
He wanted her to feel out of place.
He wanted her to remember exactly who held the power in this arrangement.
Elena squared her shoulders. Fine. If he expected her to be intimidated, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
With a deliberate slowness, she selected a few dresses and disappeared into the fitting room.
---
The first dress was too tight. The second, too revealing.
The third clung to her curves in a way that made her pause. The deep emerald green contrasted sharply against her skin, the silky material hugging her frame like a second skin.
She turned slightly, watching her reflection. For the first time, she didn’t look like the struggling girl who had spent her life scraping by. She looked… expensive.
Like she belonged in his world.
A knock at the dressing room door made her jump.
"Come out," Damon’s voice commanded.
She hesitated before slowly stepping outside.
The second she did, she felt his gaze.
Damon’s dark eyes roamed over her, slow and deliberate. The air shifted, charged with something unspoken.
"You’ll take that one," he said, his voice even, but there was something else beneath it—something she couldn’t quite place.
Elena lifted her chin. "I haven’t decided yet."
His lips curved in a knowing smirk. "You will."
Her teeth clenched. "You don’t get to decide everything for me."
Damon stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "No?" His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an unmistakable edge to it. "Because last I checked, you signed a deal with me, Elena. And that means I do."
Her pulse pounded.
This was a game for him—a test of control.
She hated how effortlessly he played it.
She swallowed back the defiance bubbling inside her and turned away. "Fine. If it makes you happy, I’ll take this one."
His smirk didn’t fade. "Oh, Elena. It’s never about making me happy. It’s about reminding you who you belong to."
The words sent a shiver down her spine, but she refused to let him see it.
If Damon Blackwell thought she would break that easily…
He was wrong.
---
- Writer
