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Chapter 49 - Collateral Comfort
Last Updated:
2025-04-23 10:50:01
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Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 50 - Boardroom Burn
Aria"Put on something professional. You're coming with me," Damon says without looking up from his phone, the minute he steps back in, like it’s just a calendar reminder.I glance at him from over my coffee mug. “And what exactly am I dressing up for this time?” He finally meets my eyes. His stare is cool, detached, but underneath it, there's something unreadable. “It’s a meeting. A private meeting. You sit, you smile, you stay quiet through it all. That’s all.”“That sounds a lot like an order.”He slips his phone into his pocket and straightens. “This time, it’s a favour.”The word lands differently. Damon doesn’t ask for favours. That’s not how the script works. He demands. He orchestrates. But here he is, standing in the doorway, calling it a favor. That alone is enough to make me pause.I narrow my eyes. “What kind of favour?”“The kind that requires you to keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.”Sounds easy. But nothing with Damon ever is. Still, something about the way he s
Last Updated : 2025-04-23Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 51 - Dresser Confession
AriaHours after the Duval disaster, we're back in the apartment, packing in silence for the flight back to New York. Back to the cage. Back to surveillance, secrets, and stiffly filtered air. I move around the room with slow, mechanical motions, folding clothes I don’t care about, pretending like this isn’t the same place where everything just spiralled out of control. And maybe if I move slow enough, time will slow down with me, and I won’t have to face what comes next.Damon’s here, too. Not that you’d know it. He hasn’t said a word in over thirty minutes, his back turned, his energy closed off like a door slammed shut. Colder than usual. Detached. His silence is a mood, but honestly, I’m too tired to match it. Too exhausted to figure out what kind of ice I’m walking on now.I do everything right. Act exactly as he says I should. Say nothing when he says so. Breathe evenly. And yet, still somehow, I feel like I’ve committed some crime. Like breathing wrong might trigger another exp
Last Updated : 2025-04-23Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 52 - Bruised Boundaries
Damon“Whatever happened in Paris... stays in Paris,” I say, stepping off the plane with my back to her, keeping my eyes forward because if I look back, even for a second, my eyes might give me away.The words taste like control but feel like betrayal. A contradiction in every breath. Relief flickers through me, quick and sharp, like I finally sealed off a door that would only lead to trouble. But underneath it, regret simmers. Something in my chest squeezes tight, and my brain shoves the memory back. And yesterday, I just had to leave. I had to. Because there were no words after what happened. No smug reply. No commanding reply. Hell, nothing. And I just had to leave like a coward.But that set the floor for what I just said to her. And it helps. Because I need time to put my thoughts together, even if it means she hates me, more now than before. Even if it's cowardly.The feel of her against me—warm, soft, willing—floods my senses for half a second too long. No.Not now. Not again
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Damon“Alright, man. If you say so,” Kay says, and with that, the line goes dead.Leaning back into the headrest, I try to still everything. Thoughts, instincts, the tension that hasn’t left my shoulders since we touched down. The inside of the car is silent except for the hum of the engine. The moment feels stretched thin, like it might snap if I breathe too loudly.Gravel crunches under the tires. I didn’t even notice Mark turning into the driveway until we were already pulling in. The house rises into view, tall and sharp against the dull afternoon light, and just like that, reality comes barreling back.She moves before the car comes to a full stop. The door swings open, and she steps out fast. Too fast. The door slams hard behind her.Right. Here we go.If I was taming a dog before Paris, I’m fighting a tiger now. And not just any tiger—one I raised with my own hands. One I fed fury and independence, and then had the audacity to expect silence from.I step out, and my eyes land o
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AriaIt takes all of two minutes inside this room to remember where I am—back in the cage. Same city. Same house. Same man with a different mask for every room.Unpacking feels mechanical, like my hands are on autopilot. Dresses. Tops. A few random things from Paris that don’t belong here, not in this place where the little joy I had goes to die. The bed is too neat, too silent. The adjoining door to Damon’s room stands half open, and the air from it feels heavier than it should. Maybe it’s him.Maybe it’s me.I slide the zipper open on another suitcase and let the silence fill every crevice. It’s louder than words. Louder than what we didn’t say on the plane, louder than the lie he dropped before walking off: Whatever happened in Paris stays in Paris.Right. Convenient.The worst part? The fact that my brain keeps looping back to that night. Not the heat, not the thrill, but the way he looked at me like he forgot how to hate. Like he couldn’t tell where anger ended and want began. I
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AriaThe note sits at the bottom of the drawer like it owns the damn room.A small, folded piece of paper—simple, stupid, and ordinary. Except, it isn’t ordinary. It shouldn’t be here. No one should have touched this drawer. No one should have access to this room. And yet—here it is. Crisp edges. Smooth texture. Same paper. Same weight. Same fucking handwriting.No message this time. Just a number.19. I stare at it like it might change if I blink enough. It doesn’t. The black ink remains bold, unmoving, certain of its own mystery.What does this mean? Is it a date? A countdown? A room number? A threat? My mind runs wild, fingers clutching the note like it might disappear if I let go. Every possibility flashes through like a horror reel.And that’s the part that terrifies me most—not knowing.I slip it into the pages of a book and slide the book deep inside the drawer, then I lock the drawer with a key I didn’t think I’d need.Back in New York. Same surveillance, new format. These pe
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DamonI watch her walk off.Something is definitely up with her. In all the weeks she’s spent here, in this house, she’s never wandered out to this part of the estate. She’s always either locked up in her room, quiet as a shadow, or bickering with Eunice over which vase belongs in which hallway. Never this.But tonight, she walked with purpose. Not angry. Not storming off. Just quiet. Deliberate. It throws me off.The second I caught sight of her slipping through the glass doors that lead to the garden, something in me reacted. Instinct, maybe. Habit, maybe worse. My legs moved before my brain finished forming the question: What the hell is she doing out there?She didn’t answer me. Not really. The usual retorts, the pushbacks. But this time, it didn’t feel like she was pushing me away just for sport. Something else is sitting beneath the surface.She’s hiding something.And the maddening part?I can’t tell what.But, how hard could it be to spill?'Spill? To you?' the voice in my hea
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DamonI retire back into the adjoining suite, get off my clothes, and freshen up. In no time, I sleep off, my thoughts still running wild from all that happened today.Morning comes and the light pouring in through the slits in the blinds forces me awake. The house is quiet, too quiet for everything spinning in my head. A part of me wants to stay buried under the covers, just to delay facing the shit storm that’s coming. But I can't. I get up, splash water on my face, and throw on my running gear.The run is short but feels long. The air is crisp, cold enough to sting a little, but that’s the point. Pain distracts. Pain clears.With every step pounding against the pavement, I try to outrun the image of her curled up under the duvet, the way she pulled back from me yesterday, that damn look in her eyes. Something like disappointment. Something worse.I step back into the house, towel at my neck, sweat drying fast. My feet take me automatically to the adjoining suite, and I shut the doo
Last Updated : 2025-04-25
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Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 60 - What We Don’t Say
AriaIt starts with a knock. Soft, respectful, but firm enough to ruin any illusion of quiet."Ma'am," the maid says from behind the door. "Miss Eunice requests your presence in the studio. It’s for the gala preparations."Right. The gala. Damon mentioned it weeks ago in that clipped tone of his, like it was just another box on our never-ending list of lies to check off, and I hadn't thought about it since.I roll out of bed slowly, still a little groggy, and make my way across the room. The house is too quiet, which means Damon’s not around. Not that it changes anything. The silence in our fake-marriage mansion has started to feel like a third presence. Watching. Waiting.The studio is alive with movement the second I step in. From the fabrics draped over racks, to sequins catching the light from the high windows. Stylists buzz around me before I even get a word out. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, Eunice appears, hands folded neatly."Don’t look so scared, darling. We’re just
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 59 - Heavier Than Before
AriaThe morning unfolds slowly, like it already knows the weight it carries. Light spills into the room in hazy lines, brushing over the untouched side of my bed. I glance through the slightly open adjoining door to his room. Again, he's not here.Not that I expected him to be. He’s mastered the art of disappearing before dawn, especially when things get too quiet between us. Quiet, not in the peaceful way, but the kind that fills every corner with questions and the ghosts of things left unsaid.Slipping out of bed, I pad toward the bathroom, moving slowly, almost carefully, like I might bump into another memory. The shower is quick, my mind already racing ahead, trying not to land on him—on the dresser, on the way his breath caught when our bodies met, on how fast he walked away.Everything in this house reminds me of him. Of us. Of the performance. The pretence.Downstairs, the dining room is still and clean, the scent of fresh bread and eggs warming the air. Eunice sits at the fa
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 58 – “Whatever Happened in Paris…”
Damon"So, firstly, background check, then a not-so-crazy fuck buddy. What else? What am I missing?" Kingsley's voice cuts clean through my thoughts, snapping me back into the room.He’s been watching me with that sharp, knowing look—the one he saves for when he’s on the verge of prying something out of me, like a detective cornering his only suspect."I think that’s about it," I reply, running a hand over my jaw, trying not to sound as worn out as I feel. "I'll let you know if something else comes up."His eyes stay fixed on me for a second too long. I already know what’s coming. He leans back into his seat, arms crossed like he’s settling in for a movie. Great."Alright. So…" he drags the word out like a fishing line, and I shake my head."Go on, Kingsley," I say, already regretting ever coming here. The man lives for this."I was just wondering…" he starts, eyes lighting up with a kind of devilish glee, "what happened in Paris? And what did you do afterwards? Because I’m certain th
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 57 - Damage Control
DamonI retire back into the adjoining suite, get off my clothes, and freshen up. In no time, I sleep off, my thoughts still running wild from all that happened today.Morning comes and the light pouring in through the slits in the blinds forces me awake. The house is quiet, too quiet for everything spinning in my head. A part of me wants to stay buried under the covers, just to delay facing the shit storm that’s coming. But I can't. I get up, splash water on my face, and throw on my running gear.The run is short but feels long. The air is crisp, cold enough to sting a little, but that’s the point. Pain distracts. Pain clears.With every step pounding against the pavement, I try to outrun the image of her curled up under the duvet, the way she pulled back from me yesterday, that damn look in her eyes. Something like disappointment. Something worse.I step back into the house, towel at my neck, sweat drying fast. My feet take me automatically to the adjoining suite, and I shut the doo
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 56 - Losing the Lead
DamonI watch her walk off.Something is definitely up with her. In all the weeks she’s spent here, in this house, she’s never wandered out to this part of the estate. She’s always either locked up in her room, quiet as a shadow, or bickering with Eunice over which vase belongs in which hallway. Never this.But tonight, she walked with purpose. Not angry. Not storming off. Just quiet. Deliberate. It throws me off.The second I caught sight of her slipping through the glass doors that lead to the garden, something in me reacted. Instinct, maybe. Habit, maybe worse. My legs moved before my brain finished forming the question: What the hell is she doing out there?She didn’t answer me. Not really. The usual retorts, the pushbacks. But this time, it didn’t feel like she was pushing me away just for sport. Something else is sitting beneath the surface.She’s hiding something.And the maddening part?I can’t tell what.But, how hard could it be to spill?'Spill? To you?' the voice in my hea
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 55 - Nineteen
AriaThe note sits at the bottom of the drawer like it owns the damn room.A small, folded piece of paper—simple, stupid, and ordinary. Except, it isn’t ordinary. It shouldn’t be here. No one should have touched this drawer. No one should have access to this room. And yet—here it is. Crisp edges. Smooth texture. Same paper. Same weight. Same fucking handwriting.No message this time. Just a number.19. I stare at it like it might change if I blink enough. It doesn’t. The black ink remains bold, unmoving, certain of its own mystery.What does this mean? Is it a date? A countdown? A room number? A threat? My mind runs wild, fingers clutching the note like it might disappear if I let go. Every possibility flashes through like a horror reel.And that’s the part that terrifies me most—not knowing.I slip it into the pages of a book and slide the book deep inside the drawer, then I lock the drawer with a key I didn’t think I’d need.Back in New York. Same surveillance, new format. These pe
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 54 - The Taste of Pretend
AriaIt takes all of two minutes inside this room to remember where I am—back in the cage. Same city. Same house. Same man with a different mask for every room.Unpacking feels mechanical, like my hands are on autopilot. Dresses. Tops. A few random things from Paris that don’t belong here, not in this place where the little joy I had goes to die. The bed is too neat, too silent. The adjoining door to Damon’s room stands half open, and the air from it feels heavier than it should. Maybe it’s him.Maybe it’s me.I slide the zipper open on another suitcase and let the silence fill every crevice. It’s louder than words. Louder than what we didn’t say on the plane, louder than the lie he dropped before walking off: Whatever happened in Paris stays in Paris.Right. Convenient.The worst part? The fact that my brain keeps looping back to that night. Not the heat, not the thrill, but the way he looked at me like he forgot how to hate. Like he couldn’t tell where anger ended and want began. I
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 53 - Post-Paris
Damon“Alright, man. If you say so,” Kay says, and with that, the line goes dead.Leaning back into the headrest, I try to still everything. Thoughts, instincts, the tension that hasn’t left my shoulders since we touched down. The inside of the car is silent except for the hum of the engine. The moment feels stretched thin, like it might snap if I breathe too loudly.Gravel crunches under the tires. I didn’t even notice Mark turning into the driveway until we were already pulling in. The house rises into view, tall and sharp against the dull afternoon light, and just like that, reality comes barreling back.She moves before the car comes to a full stop. The door swings open, and she steps out fast. Too fast. The door slams hard behind her.Right. Here we go.If I was taming a dog before Paris, I’m fighting a tiger now. And not just any tiger—one I raised with my own hands. One I fed fury and independence, and then had the audacity to expect silence from.I step out, and my eyes land o
Claimed By The Billionaire Chapter 52 - Bruised Boundaries
Damon“Whatever happened in Paris... stays in Paris,” I say, stepping off the plane with my back to her, keeping my eyes forward because if I look back, even for a second, my eyes might give me away.The words taste like control but feel like betrayal. A contradiction in every breath. Relief flickers through me, quick and sharp, like I finally sealed off a door that would only lead to trouble. But underneath it, regret simmers. Something in my chest squeezes tight, and my brain shoves the memory back. And yesterday, I just had to leave. I had to. Because there were no words after what happened. No smug reply. No commanding reply. Hell, nothing. And I just had to leave like a coward.But that set the floor for what I just said to her. And it helps. Because I need time to put my thoughts together, even if it means she hates me, more now than before. Even if it's cowardly.The feel of her against me—warm, soft, willing—floods my senses for half a second too long. No.Not now. Not again
