BOUND BY DESIRE

Chapter 5 – Bound by Chains, Seen and Unseen

Elena sat stiffly in the back of the sleek black car as it cruised through the city streets. The designer shopping bags sat beside her, a cruel reminder of the world she was now trapped in. A world of luxury, power, and a man who saw her as something to own.

Damon sat beside her, silent and unreadable. The tension between them was thick, laced with an unspoken challenge.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

He didn't glance at her. "Dinner."

Elena frowned. "I thought I was just supposed to be… available." She hated saying the word, hated the way it made her feel like an object.

Damon smirked, finally looking at her. "You are. And tonight, your presence is required."

"Required for what?"

"A business dinner."

She let out a dry laugh. "Oh, of course. Because nothing says professionalism like forcing a woman into a contract and then parading her around like—"

His sharp gaze cut through her, silencing her. "Watch your tone, Elena."

Her nails dug into her palms, but she didn’t back down. "Why me?"

Damon leaned back against the leather seat, watching her with dark amusement. "Because you belong to me now."

Her stomach twisted at his words.

She turned toward the window, pressing her lips together to keep from saying something reckless.

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The restaurant was breathtaking, all dim lighting and elegant décor. It was the kind of place where the wealthy and powerful dined, where even a single misstep could make someone an outcast.

Damon guided her inside with a hand on the small of her back. His touch was light, yet possessive. It sent a shiver through her that she refused to acknowledge.

A group of men in tailored suits rose as they approached the table. One of them, a distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair, extended a hand to Damon.

"Blackwell," the man greeted. "Glad you could make it."

Damon shook his hand, his usual smirk in place. "Gentlemen, this is Elena."

Elena forced a polite smile. She had no idea who these men were, but from the way they eyed her, she knew exactly what they thought.

A beautiful woman in Damon Blackwell’s arms.

A toy.

A possession.

The thought made her sick.

As they took their seats, the conversation shifted to business, and Elena sat quietly, her presence reduced to nothing more than an accessory.

Until one of the men turned to her.

"So, Elena," he drawled, swirling his wine. "What is it you do?"

Elena hesitated. She could feel Damon watching her, waiting for her reaction.

"I—" she started, then stopped. What could she say? That she was working odd jobs to pay off a debt her dead father left behind? That she was trapped in a deal with a man who saw her as nothing more than a contract?

"She’s adjusting to her new life," Damon answered smoothly before she could respond.

Elena stiffened.

The man chuckled. "Ah. A transition, then."

Something in his tone made her skin crawl.

Damon leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. "Something like that."

His hand found her knee under the table, a silent warning.

Elena clenched her teeth, furious at how easily he silenced her.

This was a game to him. A performance.

But if he thought she would play the part of the obedient puppet forever…

He was wrong.

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