Chapter six
1236 Words
Chapter Six – Love Without a Contract
The first morning Amelia woke beside Damian without the shadow of a deal hanging over them felt strangely surreal.
For months, their relationship had been marked by whispered lies, rehearsed smiles, and unspoken conditions. But now, the world knows. The newspapers had feasted on the scandal, but the dust was settling, and for the first time, she wasn’t just Damian Weston’s “fake fiancée.”
She was his.
Amelia stretched beneath the silk sheets, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Damian was already awake; of course, he never seemed to need sleep the way normal men did. He stood by the window of the penthouse, sleeves rolled, reading something on his tablet. His profile was sharp against the skyline, sunlight painting him in gold.
“You know,” she teased, her voice still husky with sleep, “most people stay in bed on Sundays.”
He turned, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “Most people don’t run an empire.”
She sat up, wrapping the sheet around her. “And what about most people who want to keep their girlfriends from leaving them?”
That made him set the tablet down. In a moment, he was beside her, cupping her chin with a gentleness that always startled her. “Then those men should know better than to let business come before the woman they love.”
Her breath caught. He said it so easily now, as if the words weren’t terrifying for a man who had spent his whole life avoiding them.
She kissed him, softly at first, then deeper, as if sealing the promise.
Later that afternoon, Amelia found herself back at the bakery, the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon warming the air. Her father was humming as he kneaded dough, healthier and stronger every day. The bakery had become busy again, thanks in part to the media frenzy.
She was wiping down the counter when a familiar face appeared at the door.
“Ethan.”
Damian’s half-brother leaned casually against the frame, a devilish smile on his lips. “Well, well. So this is the famous bakery that captured the great Damian Weston’s heart.”
Amelia stiffened. “What do you want?”
“Relax.” Ethan’s eyes glimmered with mischief. “I’m not here to destroy you. Not today, anyway.” He sauntered in, his gaze sweeping the shelves of bread and pastries. “I came to see what kind of magic a Dawson woman could possibly have.”
Her father looked up, confused, but Amelia gave him a small shake of her head. She stepped forward, lowering her voice. “Whatever game you’re playing, it’s over. Damian and I”
“Are you in love?” Ethan’s smirk widened. “Yes, I read all about it. But love doesn’t change the truth, Amelia. You were his contract. You were leveraged. And no matter how much Damian swears otherwise, that stain doesn’t wash away.”
Her stomach tightened. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” He leaned closer, his words silk and venom. “Tell me, when you lie awake at night, do you ever wonder if he would have chosen you without the bakery? Without desperation?”
The words cut deep, sharper than she wanted to admit. She clenched her fists. “You don’t know him. And you sure as hell don’t know me.”
Ethan chuckled, unbothered. “We’ll see. Enjoy your fairytale, Amelia. They have a habit of breaking.”
With that, he turned and left, leaving her heart pounding in her chest.
That night, Amelia couldn’t shake Ethan’s voice from her head. Damian found her sitting on the balcony, staring out at the city lights, her arms wrapped around herself.
“You’re quiet,” he said, settling beside her.
She hesitated. “Ethan came to the bakery today.”
His expression darkened instantly. “What did he say?”
“Nothing I didn’t already know.” She tried to sound casual, but the crack in her voice betrayed her. “That maybe… maybe we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the contract.”
Damian’s jaw tightened. He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Amelia, look at me.”
She met his gaze, and the intensity there stole her breath.
“Ethan thrives on doubt. He wants you to question us, to question me. But the truth is simple: I may have started this as a deal, but I stayed because of you. Because you’re the only person who has ever made me want more than boardrooms and power.” His voice softened. “Do you believe me?”
Her throat tightened. She wanted to. She desperately wanted to. But scars of mistrust were not so easily healed.
“I’m trying,” she whispered.
He pulled her against his chest, holding her as though he could shield her from every shadow. “That’s enough for me.”
Days turned into weeks, and slowly, Amelia learned what love without contracts looked like.
It was Damian showing up at the bakery with coffee, even when his mornings were crammed with meetings.
It was her father warming to him, reluctantly at first, then with surprising fondness.
It was Damian laughing, really laughing for the first time she had ever heard, when she caught him attempting to bake bread and nearly setting the oven on fire.
But there were also paparazzi flashing cameras when she walked down the street. It was tabloids speculating about wedding dates she and Damian hadn’t even discussed. It was Ethan’s shadow lurking, waiting for a chance to strike again.
One evening, after another headline about their “whirlwind romance,” Amelia closed her laptop in frustration. “Sometimes I feel like we’re living in a fishbowl,” she muttered.
Damian came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “They’ll tire of us eventually.”
“Will they?” She turned, searching his face. “Because I don’t want to be a spectacle, Damian. I just want… us.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he kissed her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll have. No contracts. No headlines. Just us.”
The following week, Damian took her away with no press, no boardrooms, and no chaos. Just a secluded cabin by the lake, where the nights were filled with laughter, warmth, and the kind of love Amelia had once thought only existed in stories.
On their last night there, she lay in his arms by the fire, the crackle of flames filling the silence.
“You know,” she murmured, tracing circles on his chest, “when this started, I told myself I would never fall for you.”
He chuckled, low and rough. “I told myself I didn’t have a heart to give.”
She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “And now?”
His gaze softened, every wall gone. “Now, I know you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted. With or without the contract.”
Her heart swelled, and she kissed him, the firelight wrapping them in gold.
For the first time since it all began, Amelia believed their story wasn’t just a deal, a survival tactic, or a scandal.
It was real.
It was theirs.
And no matter what storms lay ahead, she knew they would face them together.
- Writer
