Bound to the billionaire

Break light

Amira pov

The first time I saw the headline, I froze.

It glared back at me from my phone screen in bold, merciless letters:

“Who Is Amira Blake? Billionaire Damien Cole’s Secret Wife Exposed!”

Underneath were endless speculations that I was a nobody, a woman with no class, no background, no wealth. That I had “trapped” Damien. Some articles even claimed I’d blackmailed him into marriage, waving around fake screenshots and exaggerated rumors.

My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. My name was trending everywhere.

By the time I scrolled down to the comments, my stomach twisted.

“She looks like she came from nowhere.

“Another gold digger pretending to be innocent.”

“Poor Damien, probably forced into marriage.”

I dropped my phone on the bed and pressed my palm against my forehead. My whole body felt hot and cold at the same time.

How did this even happen?

How did something so private become everyone’s entertainment overnight?

Maya called five minutes later. “Amira, have you seen it?”

Her voice came out sharp, protective, the way it always did when she sensed trouble.

Yes,” I whispered. “Everywhere.”

“Don’t read those comments,” she snapped. “People are sick. They’re jealous because you’re finally living the life they wish they had.”

But it didn’t feel like that. It didn’t feel like life at all. It felt like exposure like standing in front of the world completely naked while they pointed and laughed.

I sat there, hugging a pillow, trying to breathe. My mind ran in circles.Who could’ve done this? Who would want to destroy me like this?

The intercom in the mansion buzzed suddenly. “Mrs. Cole, Mr. Damien has requested you attend the afternoon conference at Cole Enterprises. A car will be ready in thirty minutes.”

My heart sank. The last place I wanted to go was anywhere public especially there, where every glance would feel like an accusation. But if I refused, it would make things worse.

Thirty minutes later, I stepped out in a modest cream suit, my hair tied neatly, my wedding ring glinting faintly in the sunlight. The car door opened, and I climbed in, my nerves trembling beneath my skin.

The conference hall was alive when we arrived flashing cameras, murmurs, curious stares. Damien walked ahead of me, tall and composed, his usual unreadable expression fixed firmly in place. He didn’t say a word to me, didn’t even glance my way, but just being beside him felt like standing in the eye of a storm.

When we entered the main hall, conversations quieted. Reporters turned, lenses aimed, fingers typing fast. My throat tightened. I tried to keep my chin up, pretending not to care. Pretending not to notice the stares or the whisper of my name among the crowd.

The presentation began smoothly financial projections, market strategies until one reporter raised his hand.

And just like that, everything I feared became real.

“Mr. Cole,” the man said, voice heavy with smugness. “I think we all deserve some clarity about your… wife. There are reports claiming she has no business background, no family worth noting, and that she might’ve…”

“That’s enough.

Damien’s voice cut through the air like a blade. The reporter froze. The entire hall did.

He straightened his tie and spoke again, his tone calm but dangerously cold. “You are at a business conference, not a gossip column. My wife’s background is not up for discussion, and if you have time to read fabricated stories, I suggest you also have time to do actual research.

A hush fell over the hall. Every reporter sat up straighter. Damien leaned forward slightly, resting both hands on the table.

“Mrs. Cole doesn’t need validation from people who can’t even fact-check a headline,” he continued, eyes glinting with quiet fury. “She’s my wife and that’s all the confirmation you need.”

The reporter lowered his gaze, flushed.

For a long moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe.He had just shut down the entire room for me.

As the session ended, Damien collected his papers, nodded at the panel, and walked out with his usual composed stride. I followed silently, ignoring the stares that followed us. My chest felt tight half with relief, half with confusion.

When we got into the car, I turned to him.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “For defending me.”

He didn’t even glance my way. His jaw tightened slightly before he finally replied.

“Don’t misunderstand, Amira. I didn’t defend you. I defended my company. Every scandal tied to your name affects my reputation and my reputation is my business.”

His words hit like cold rain. I looked away quickly, hiding the sting that burned behind my eyes.Of course. I should’ve known better.To him, I wasn’t his wife. I was his contract. His responsibility. His investment.

The rest of the ride home was silent. I watched the city blur past the tinted window the world outside moving fast while I sat still, trying to swallow the ache in my chest.

By the time we reached the mansion, he was already out of the car and heading inside before I could even unbuckle my seat belt.I sat there for another minute, gripping my hands tightly in my lap.

For the first time since this marriage began, I realized something the more he tried to protect his image, the more he unknowingly protected me.And that scared me. Because it made me wonder if maybe… deep down, he cared more than he’d ever admit.

Damien’s POV

The conference was supposed to end with numbers and applause. Instead, it ended with me wanting to strangle a journalist.

The moment that i***t brought up Amira, something inside me snapped.

I didn’t even think. I just reacted firm, cold, absolute.

Now everyone in the business world knew one thing Amira Cole was off-limits.

But now, sitting in my office hours later, that scene replayed in my head her silent stare, the flicker of shock in her eyes when I spoke up for her.

And the way her voice trembled in the car when she thanked me.

I’d told her the truth. It wasn’t about her,it was about the company.

But even I wasn’t sure if I believed that anymore.

John knocked on the door and entered quietly. “Sir, you asked for me?”

I nodded, my tone clipped. “Yes. I want you to find out who started the rumors about Mrs. Cole.”

John blinked. “The gossip posts, sir?”

“All of it,” I said sharply. “The blogs, the anonymous accounts, the fake interviews track every name behind it. I want whoever started this to regret it.”

He nodded quickly. “I’ll get my team on it immediately.”

As he left, I leaned back in my chair and stared at the skyline through the glass wall. The city lights flickered in the distance, cold and distant much like I’d trained myself to be.

But for the first time, I couldn’t focus on work. My mind was elsewhere.

On Amira the way she tried to hold her composure today, pretending the whispers didn’t hurt her. The way she’d looked so small in that crowd, even though she tried to stand tall.

It bothered me.

It shouldn’t have. But it did.

Because I knew how cruel the world could be how words could destroy someone faster than actions ever could. And she didn’t deserve that. Not her.

A soft knock broke my thoughts.

“Sir,” John said again, stepping back in. “I just got a lead the first source that spread the story might have ties to someone from your past. A woman named…”

“Victoria,” I finished, my jaw tightening.

He blinked. “You already know?”

“Just a hunch.” I let out a slow exhale, the faintest trace of anger lacing my voice. “If it’s her, she’s going to regret crossing that line.”

When John left again, I stood and walked to the window. My reflection stared back at me sharp suit, tired eyes, a man who’d built walls so high no one could climb them.

Except somehow, Amira had made it inside without even trying.

And as much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t stop thinking about how fragile she’d looked walking beside me today and how much I’d wanted to take her hand and tell her not to care what they said.

But I didn’t.

So that’s what I’d do now.

Whoever tried to hurt her whoever thought they could tarnish her name was about to learn that even in a contract marriage, I protect what’s mine.