Unspoken words
1445 Words
Amira pov
The night shimmered with luxury. Chandeliers sparkled above our heads like captured stars, and the scent of roses and champagne floated through the grand ballroom like a spell. Every inch of the space glowed the gold-rimmed tables, the glittering glassware, the polished smiles of people who had never known real struggle.
I stood beside Damien, forcing a calm smile as cameras flashed and whispers rippled through the crowd.
It was our first official appearance together as husband and wife the gala everyone had been waiting for. Every move we made, every glance we exchanged, was being watched, analyzed, and dissected by people who had nothing better to do than gossip.
Damien looked like he belonged here. He always did. The black suit fit him perfectly, his presence commanding, his expression unreadable. His voice was smooth when he spoke to investors, confident when he greeted reporters. He was ice and steel and I… I was the fragile thing standing next to him, trying to look like I belonged.
“Smile,” he murmured quietly beside me, his lips barely moving.
I did. Even if it didn’t reach my eyes.
Every time someone addressed me as Mrs. Cole, my stomach tightened. The name felt foreign on my tongue beautiful, powerful, but heavy with uncertainty. Because I still didn’t know what being Mrs. Cole really meant.
After what felt like an eternity of small talk and photographs, I leaned closer to Damien and whispered, “I’ll get some air.”
He didn’t look at me. “Don’t go too far.”
“I won’t.”
He was already surrounded by a group of men in tailored suits investors, no doubt the type who always tried to measure who held more power. I slipped away, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor.
The corner of the hall was quieter, dimmer. I picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and moved toward the tall glass windows that overlooked the city. Outside, the night glittered skyscrapers lit up like a thousand diamonds. I took a deep breath, letting my shoulders relax.
For the first time that evening, I could breathe.
Then, a smooth, confident voice broke through my moment of calm.
“Mrs. Cole.”
I turned and froze.
Marcus stood a few steps away, tall and composed, his lips curved into that kind of smile that never reached the eyes. I’d meet with him before at one of Damien’s business dinner .
“Good evening,” I said carefully.
He stepped closer, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand. “You look stunning tonight. I can see why Damien keeps you close.”
“Thank you,” I replied, my tone polite but cool. I shifted slightly, intending to walk away but he moved, blocking my path.
“Relax,” he said with a quiet laugh. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“Then step aside.”
His smile deepened. “You remind me of him, you know. Stubborn. Always pretending not to care when the whole world is watching.”
I frowned. “What do you want, Marcus?”
He swirled his drink slowly, his gaze sharp. “A simple conversation.”
“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”
“Oh, I think we do.” He leaned in just enough that his words brushed my ear. “You see, I know about the deal.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What deal?”
He smirked. “Don’t bother pretending. I know this marriage isn’t real. Damien needed something, and you agreed to help him. A favor for a price, right?”
A chill crawled down my spine. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I do,” he said softly. “And you should know, Amira I don’t like being lied to.”
He took a slow sip of whiskey, watching my reaction with lazy amusement. “Imagine if this little truth got out. The press would eat it alive. Damien Cole’s fake marriage exposed.”
My fingers tightened around my glass. “Is that a threat?”
He tilted his head, smiling. “It’s an opportunity. For you. Give me a few details about Damien’s upcoming projects his new investors, his strategy. Nothing dangerous. Just… insight.”
“I’m not interested.”
He chuckled. “Come now, Mrs. Cole. You’re smart. You don’t want to go down with him when things start to crumble. And they will.”
“I said I’m not interested.”
Marcus leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Think about it. You’d be doing yourself a favor.”
Before I could reply, a familiar voice cut through the air like a blade.
“Think again.”
Marcus stiffened. Slowly, we both turned.
Damien stood behind him tall, cold, and furious. His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, but the tension rolling off him was unmistakable.
“Damien,” Marcus said smoothly, regaining his composure. “We were just having a little chat.”
“I heard enough,” Damien said, his tone low but lethal. “Leave.”
Marcus smirked. “You might want to tell your wife to be careful who she talks to.”
Damien stepped closer, his voice calm but dangerous. “If I ever catch you near her again, Marcus, you won’t like what happens next.”
The air between them felt heavy, like electricity before a storm. Marcus held Damien’s gaze for a few long seconds, then smiled faintly mocking, defiant. “Always the protector, huh?”
“Always,” Damien said simply.
Marcus gave a short laugh, drained the rest of his drink, and walked away, his footsteps echoing against the marble floor.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Damien turned to me, his jaw tight. “What were you thinking, talking to him?”
“I wasn’t thinking anything,” I shot back. “He came to me.”
“You should’ve walked away.”
“I tried!” My voice rose. “He stopped me. And maybe if you hadn’t left me alone in a room full of sharks, this wouldn’t have happened!”
Damien’s eyes darkened. “You don’t know what Marcus is capable of.”
“I do now,” I said bitterly. “He wanted me to spy on you.”
That made him pause. “What?”
“He said he knows about the contract about us and that he’d expose everything if I didn’t cooperate.”
For a moment, Damien just stared at me, disbelief flickering across his face. Then anger not at me, but at the situation.
“And what did you tell him?” he asked quietly.
I lifted my chin. “That I would never betray you.”
Silence stretched between us, long and heavy.
His gaze softened barely before he looked away, exhaling hard. “You shouldn’t have even let him get that close.”
“Are you serious right now?” I said, my voice shaking. “I just protected you us and that’s your response?”
“Amira…”
“No, Damien!” I snapped. “You think I don’t know how dangerous this world is? I know. I may not have grown up with your kind of power, but I know how to survive. You don’t have to keep treating me like I’m going to break.”
He stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes pride, maybe. Or something softer.
Finally, he said quietly, “You handled it. I’ll deal with Marcus.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “That’s not the point, Damien. The point is…”
He shook his head, interrupting. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Before I could argue, he reached for my hand not roughly, but firmly and guided me through the crowd. Cameras flashed as we left the hall, the noise of reporters echoing in the distance. His hand stayed on mine, solid and protective, until we reached the car.
The ride home was silent. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, and all I could think about was how fast everything had changed.
Finally, when the car pulled into the driveway, Damien spoke his voice low. “I don’t trust easily, Amira.”
I turned to him. “I know. But maybe you should start trying.”
He didn’t reply. He just looked at me really looked and for the first time, I saw something different in his eyes.
Something raw. Something that almost looked like gratitude.
And maybe, just maybe, something like hope.
- Writer
