A Deal With The Billionaire

Chapter four

Chapter Four – Love or Contract?

The air in the penthouse felt heavier that night, as though the tension from the boardroom had followed them home and taken root in every shadow. Amelia sat curled on the edge of the sofa, knees tucked under her, staring at the city lights far below. She should have been asleep hours ago, but her mind refused to quiet.

Ethan Weston. Half-brother. Rival.

The way Damian had said his name had sent chills racing down her spine, as though simply speaking it summoned danger. She wanted to ask more, to demand answers, but Damian had shut himself in his study the moment they returned, his voice muffled through the heavy door as he barked into his phone.

Amelia ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. What had she gotten herself into? This was supposed to be a business arrangement, a fake romance for six months, nothing more. Yet with every gala, every boardroom, every piercing gaze from Damian, the lines blurred more and more.

A door clicked open.

Damian stepped into the living room, his tie loosened, his hair mussed in a way that made him look less like the ruthless CEO and more like a man fighting a private war. He poured himself a drink, the amber liquid catching the dim light, before finally noticing her.

“You’re still awake,” he said.

She shrugged. “So are you.”

He studied her for a moment, then crossed the room and handed her the glass. She hesitated before taking it, the warmth of his fingers brushing hers.

“You should be careful,” he said suddenly. “Ethan isn’t like me.”

Her brows furrowed. “You mean he isn’t arrogant and controlling?”

A shadow of a smile crossed Damian’s lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “He’s worse. He doesn’t just want power. He wants destruction. And right now, you’re a pawn he’d happily use against me.”

Her stomach twisted. “Why me?”

“Because you’re close to me.” His voice was low and steady. “Because you matter.”

The words hit her harder than they should have. She set the glass down quickly, her pulse stuttering. “I don’t matter. This is just a contract, remember?”

Damian’s gaze sharpened, something fierce flickering in his eyes. He stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him. “Is that what you tell yourself, Amelia? That none of this matters?”

Her throat went dry. “It’s the truth.”

“Then why do your hands tremble every time I touch you?” His voice dropped, intimate and dangerous.

Her breath caught. She hated that he was right, hated the way her body betrayed her even as her mind screamed to keep the walls up.

Before she could answer, Damian’s phone buzzed. He cursed under his breath, stepping back. “It’s him.”

Ethan.

Amelia’s heart thudded as Damian answered. She could hear the smooth, mocking voice on the other end, though the words were muffled. Whatever Ethan said made Damian’s jaw clench, his knuckles white around the phone.

Finally, Damian spat, “Stay away from her.” He hung up and tossed the phone onto the table with a violent thud.

Amelia’s pulse raced. “What did he say?”

Damian’s eyes met hers, hard and unyielding. “He wants to meet you.”

The café was far too normal a place for a meeting that felt like stepping into enemy territory. Amelia sat at a corner table the next afternoon, her heart hammering as she waited. Damian hadn’t wanted her to come, but Amelia had insisted. She needed to know who Ethan was and needed to see for herself.

The door chimed.

He walked in.

Ethan Weston was everything Damian wasn’t. Where Damian was sharp angles and controlled intensity, Ethan was all smooth charm and easy smiles. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he spotted her and slid into the seat across from her.

“Well, well,” he said, leaning back casually. “So you’re the famous Amelia.”

Her stomach tightened. “I wouldn’t say famous.”

“Oh, but you are,” Ethan said smoothly. “You’re on every front page, on every investor’s lips. The mysterious fiancée who appeared out of nowhere and tamed the untamable Damian Weston.” He tilted his head, studying her. “Tell me, Amelia… how much is he paying you?”

Her blood ran cold.

Ethan’s smile widened at her silence. “Ah. So it is an arrangement.”

She forced her voice to steady. “That’s none of your business.”

“On the contrary,” Ethan said, leaning closer. “My brother’s life is my business. And trust me, he doesn’t do anything without an angle. Whatever he’s promised you, Amelia, it won’t end the way you think.”

Amelia’s pulse raced. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t want to see you crushed when he breaks you.” His voice softened, almost convincing. “You seem… different. Genuine. And Damian? Damian doesn’t know how to love. He only knows how to win.”

His words lingered in her chest like poison, but before she could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Step away from her.”

Damian stood at the entrance, his presence filling the café like a storm. His eyes locked on Ethan with lethal precision.

Ethan smirked, rising slowly. “Always so possessive, brother.” He brushed a kiss against Amelia’s hand before she could pull away, his lips lingering just long enough to make Damian’s jaw tighten. “Be careful, Amelia. Some devils are worse than others.”

Then he was gone, leaving the air thick with tension.

Damian’s eyes burned into hers. “I told you not to come.”

Anger flared in her chest. “I needed answers, Damian! I can’t keep walking blind into whatever war this is.”

For a moment, silence crackled between them, the air charged. Then Damian stepped closer, his hand cupping her jaw, his voice rough.

“You don’t understand. If he hurts you, Amelia… I don’t know what I’d do.”

Her breath caught. His touch was searing, his words far too raw. This was supposed to be fake, a contract, a performance. And yet, at that moment, Amelia couldn’t tell where the lie ended and the truth began.

And that terrified her more than Ethan ever could.