Married to a stranger billionaire

Chapter 13: First Romance Spark

Days passed in the mansion, each one heavier than the last. The tension between Adrian and me was like a living thing, twisting around every glance, every word, every silence.

That evening, I found myself in the library, trying to fix a broken lamp. Its cord had frayed, and as I tugged, it snapped from my hand and clattered to the floor.

“Let me,” a deep, calm voice said behind me.

I froze.

Adrian stepped into view, his tall frame filling the doorway. His eyes, dark and intense, watched me as he approached. Without a word, he knelt beside me, guiding my hand carefully over the cord.

Our fingers brushed.

A warmth spread instantly—from my hand to my chest. My pulse raced, hammering in my ears.

“I—” I started, but the words failed me.

“Why not?” he asked softly, leaning closer. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and magnetic.

The air between us crackled, charged with something dangerous and irresistible. I wanted to pull away, but his presence held me in place, firm and commanding.

“Because…” I whispered, my voice trembling. “…this is wrong.”

“Wrong?” he echoed, a faint, almost amused smile on his lips. “Is it wrong to help someone in need?”

I couldn’t answer. My heart betrayed me, thudding loudly in my chest. He wasn’t just terrifying—he was magnetic, every inch of him commanding attention.

The way his hand lingered over mine, guiding gently, made my breath catch. I tried to focus on the task at hand, the lamp, anything to avoid looking directly at him, but it was impossible.

Adrian’s gaze softened ever so slightly, and for a fleeting second, I saw something behind the dark intensity. Vulnerability? Concern? Or a fleeting connection he didn’t intend to show?

The silence stretched, heavy and electric. I wanted to step back, to remind myself this was a contract, a deal, a situation that demanded caution. Yet every fiber of my being wanted to stay. To feel the warmth of his hand, the intensity of his stare, the undeniable pull that had grown between us.

“I need to finish this,” I whispered, finally, my voice shaky.

He didn’t move his hand immediately, just watched me, as if he could feel my hesitation, my fear, my desire.

“Then finish,” he said softly. But the command had a gentleness that made my chest tighten even more.

When our hands finally separated, it felt like tearing away from something forbidden. My pulse hadn’t slowed. My thoughts were a whirlwind.

And as he stood, towering over me, eyes still dark with intensity, I realized something terrifying.

I was already drawn to him.

Dangerously. Irrevocably.