š¹Aurora š¹I turned to leave.I barely took a step before a strong hand wrapped around my wrist, yanking me back with enough force that I stumbled. A gasp escaped my lips as I collided with Damienās chestāhard, warm, and unyielding. His grip tightened around my waist, pulling me flush against him, his presence overpowering."You keep trying to run," he murmured, his voice deep, smooth, and far too amused. "Yet you know you canāt escape me, Aurora."I swallowed hard, trying to push away, pressing my palms against his solid chest. He didnāt move. Instead, his fingers splayed possessively against my lower back, trapping me in place. The heat of his body seeped through my clothes, making it impossible to ignore just how close we were."Let me go," I bit out, willing my voice to sound strong.His lips curved into that maddening smirk. "Say it like you mean it."I shoved against him again, my fingers curling into fists. "I mean it."His grip remained firm, his body an unmovable force. "No,
š¹Aurora š¹I stood frozen at the threshold, the echo of Damienās words still ringing in my earsācold, possessive, unyielding. My heart hammered as I tried to steady my racing thoughts. The memory of his touch, the way his fingers had brushed my skin with a mix of tenderness and threat, was impossible to erase. I could still feel the ghost of his grip on my wrist and the heavy promise behind his whispered declaration: āYou belong to me now, Aurora.āI staggered back into the room, closing the door slowly behind me as if I could lock away the turmoil heād stirred. My hands trembled and I pressed them against the wall, taking deep, shuddering breaths. My mind was a whirlwindāanger, defiance, fear, and something else I refused to name. I knew I wasnāt ready to give in, but part of me felt trapped by the reality of this arranged engagement, forced upon me by my father and sealed by Damienās relentless claim.I sank onto the edge of the bed, my back trembling as I tried to collect myself.
š¹Damienš¹I sat alone in my study, the silence of the vast room pressing in like a weight. Outside, the city was alive with lights and distant hums of traffic, but inside, every tick of the clock reminded me of the mistakes I had just made. Mistakes that I could ill afford. Iād just left Auroraās suite, her defiance still echoing in my mind. Every word exchanged, every touch sharedāit was all too much, too revealing. I had let my guard slip, and in that moment, I allowed vulnerability to seep through the cracks of my carefully constructed walls.I poured myself another drink, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass as if trying to wash away the memory. But no amount of whiskey could numb the sting of regret. I remembered her eyesāso fiercely determined, so raw with emotionāand it pained me to realize that I had, even briefly, exposed a side of myself I had always fought to keep hidden. I had always prided myself on being impenetrable, on having complete control over my emotions.
š¹Aurora š¹The sound of fabric rustling filled the air as I sat in front of the mirror in my bedroom, my fingers absently brushing over the delicate lace of the dress draped over my lap. It was supposed to be a moment of excitementāchoosing the perfect wedding gown, preparing for the day that every girl dreams of. But instead, my mind was consumed with something else entirely.Damien.The man who had once been a mystery was now an enigma wrapped in contradictions. One moment, he was cold and distant, keeping me at armās length with calculated indifference. The next, he was dangerously close, his touch burning like fire, his presence suffocating. Last night had been one of those momentsāone where he had let his guard down, if only for a second, before snapping back into the ice-cold shell he always wore.I clenched my fists, the smooth fabric crumpling under my grip. Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to make me feel things I had no business feeling?A knock at the door
š¹Auroraš¹I set my phone aside, the echo of Ethanās desperate plea still ringing in my ears. The silence that followed felt too heavy, as if the room itself was waiting for something to break it. I paced slowly around the suite, each step measured and reluctant. My mind replayed the conversation over and overāthe raw pain in his voice, his insistence that I wasnāt meant to be with Damien, the bitter memories of a past lost to my fatherās merciless choices. I closed my eyes, willing the voices to fade, but the silence only deepened, wrapping around me like a shroud.I tried to steady my thoughts by retracing my steps from earlier that evening. I recalled the moment Damien had left, his parting words echoing in the space between us. I remembered the cold determination in his tone, and yet, something in his expression had hinted at regretāa fleeting moment when his control had faltered. The thought made my heart twist. Was there more to him than the steely facade he so carefully maintai
š¹Damienš¹I sat in my study, fingers drumming against the polished oak desk, my mind clouded with thoughts I had no business entertaining.Aurora.She had a way of getting under my skin, and I hated it. I hated the way she made me feel like I wasnāt in control, the way her presence lingered long after she left the room. No woman had ever made me second-guess myself, let alone question my decisions. But she did.I took a slow breath, rolling my shoulders as I reached for the whiskey glass Ronan had set in front of me earlier. The rich amber liquid burned down my throat, but it did nothing to chase away the unease gnawing at me.I had lost control.It wasnāt just todayāit had been happening since the moment she entered my life. At first, I thought she was just another pawn, a woman I would marry for the sake of my plans. But she had proven to be much more than that. A complication. A distraction.A weakness.The thought alone made my grip tighten around the glass. I couldnāt afford wea
š¹Damien š¹The early morning light seeped through the towering windows of the estate, casting elongated shadows across the polished floors. I barely got any sleep, my mind refusing to settle even after downing two glasses of whiskey the night before.Aurora was everywhere in my thoughts, and it infuriated me. I wasnāt the kind of man to lose control over a woman. I had vowed to keep her at a distance, to remind myself that she was nothing more than a tool in my plans. But no matter how much I tried, she found ways to slip past my defenses.I needed to shut this down.Pushing aside my frustration, I walked down the hall, my steps measured and purposeful. I had business to attend to todayāreal business, not the constant distractions Aurora kept throwing my way.But as I turned the corner, Ronan was already waiting for me, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but I could tell he had something to say."You have a visitor," he said simply.I stopped walking. "Who?"
š¹Auroraš¹The city streets stretched before me, illuminated by the golden glow of streetlights. The cold bit at my skin as I pulled my coat tighter around my body, my breath forming small clouds in the air. Each step I took toward the cafĆ© felt heavier, as though my conscience itself was weighing me down.I shouldnāt be here.But I needed answers.The past few weeks had felt like a blurāDamienās presence in my life had been suffocating, controlling, unpredictable. And yet, there was a dangerous pull between us, something I couldn't quite define but refused to acknowledge. That was why I had to do this.I had to see Ethan.One last time.My fingers curled into fists as I reached the cafĆ© entrance. Through the glass window, I spotted him immediatelyāhis dark hair slightly messier than I remembered, his navy-blue jacket zipped up against the cold. He sat at a corner booth, his fingers curled around a ceramic cup, his gaze lost in thought.Ethan.Memories of him came rushing backāhis lau
š¹Aurora š¹The reception had ended, and with it, the dazzling faƧade of celebration began to crumble into a hushed, somber silence. I found myself alone in a quiet corner of the grand ballroom, away from the lingering chatter and the soft clink of departing glasses. The ornate chandeliers cast a gentle, flickering light over the empty chairs and polished marble floors, and in that quiet moment, the weight of the day settled on me like a shroud.I sank into a plush armchair near a large window, gazing out at the city lights that twinkled distantly in the night. They seemed almost unreachableātiny beacons of freedom in a vast, dark expanse. My mind wandered through the events of the day, each memory a mixture of vivid emotions and hollow formalities. I had walked down the aisle with a heavy heart, recited vows that felt more like a surrender than a promise, and exchanged rings that now felt like chains. Every moment of that day, despite its glittering perfection, had marked another ste
š¹Auroraš¹The reception hall was a dazzling arena of opulence, where every detail was meticulously arranged to project perfection. I moved through the crowd as if in a daze, a reluctant participant in a performance that felt both surreal and suffocating. The ballroomās high, vaulted ceilings were draped in shimmering lights, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and fresh flowers. Yet beneath the glitz and glamour, I sensed a pervasive emptinessāa facade that masked a world of expectations and unspoken agendas.Every face I encountered wore a smile that seemed rehearsed, as if each guest were an actor following a script. I saw relatives and business associates alike, each nodding and offering polite congratulations, their eyes betraying nothing more than a detached acknowledgment of the dayās proceedings. Their praise felt hollow, as if I were nothing more than an accessory in a grand display of power and legacy.I drifted toward the refreshment table, my steps sl
š¹Aurora š¹The ceremony was over, yet the echoes of every word, every whispered promise, clung to me like a second skin. I stood at the edge of the altar long after the ministerās final pronouncement, my heart pounding in a rhythm that seemed to mock the emptiness I felt inside. I was now Mrs. Sterlingāa title that felt like a heavy shackle rather than a crown of honor. As the guests erupted in polite applause, the noise of their celebration only deepened my own isolation. I felt like I had just signed a contract rather than exchanged vows with a partner. Every syllable of the ritual, every glimmer of a smile from the attendees, was part of a performance that I was forced to play.My eyes instinctively searched for Damien across the room. He stood, quiet and composed, a mask of impenetrable detachment. His gaze, when it met mine, was distant and calculatingāa cold, unyielding reminder that our union was not built on tenderness or shared dreams, but on duty and expectation. I tried to
š¹Aurora š¹The ceremony hall was an expanse of polished marble and gentle light that seemed to magnify every heartbeat. I stood at the front of the room, the air thick with silent judgment and expectation, as I gazed down the long aisle. Every step I had taken to reach this moment felt weighted with the loss of my freedom, and now I was to commit to a future that wasnāt mine.Across from me, Damien Sterling waited. He stood in perfect, rigid formāa statue carved from iceāhis dark eyes fixed on some distant point, as if he were detached from the ritual unfolding between us. I could see nothing but cold calculation in his face, and yet, in the brief moment when our eyes met, I thought I glimpsed a shadow of something else. I couldnāt tell if it was regret, longing, or merely a flicker of vulnerability that he then masked with his usual impassivity.The ministerās voice, low and measured, began the ceremony with words of sacred union, but all I could register was the pounding of my hear
Inside the vast, ornate hall, the atmosphere was electric with anticipation. My entrance had been met with a flurry of polite smiles and murmured greetings from guests who were there to witness the union of two powerful families. Yet, as I walked slowly down the aisle, the weight of every gazeāboth sympathetic and scrutinizingāseemed to sap the life from me.Every face in the room appeared to be a carefully chosen mask of approval. Relatives from distant branches of the Reynolds dynasty and esteemed figures from the business world watched silently as I passed, their eyes an unspoken jury evaluating my worth. I felt like I was on displayāa fragile, reluctant bride whose every movement was measured, every smile rehearsed.At the far end of the hall, I saw himāDamien Sterling. He stood stoically near the altar, his posture perfect, his expression unreadable. His dark eyes briefly met mine, sending a jolt of conflicting emotions through me. Was it indifference? Regret? Or was it simply th
š¹Aurora š¹The cabās interior was dimly lit by the cityās early morning glow, a soft amber haze that did little to warm the chill that had settled inside me. I sat silently in the back, my thoughts a tangled mess of dread, uncertainty, and an inescapable guilt. Every mile took me further away from the small apartment I still called home and closer to the world that Damien Sterling and my family had planned for meāa world of glittering wealth and cold obligation.I couldnāt help but recall every moment that led up to this dayāthe whispered promises of a freer life, the desperate call from Ethan that I had tried so hard to ignore, and the overwhelming realization that my destiny had been written long before I could choose. I remembered how, in secret moments, I had dared to dream of escaping it all. Now, that possibility felt like a distant memory, swallowed by the relentless march of duty.The cab slowed abruptly as we neared the imposing, wrought-iron gates of the Reynolds estate. My
š¹ Aurora š¹Aurora sat alone in her apartment, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The room was still, save for the soft hum of the city outside. She had always found peace in this quiet solitude, but today, everything felt different. Her stomach churned, a cocktail of nerves and dread swirling inside her. The wedding was tomorrow. Tomorrow, her life would change forever.She glanced at her phone, which had been quiet for hours. There were no messages from Ethan, no words of reassurance or encouragement. It was probably for the best, she thought, pushing away the disappointment. What could he say anyway? She was about to marry someone she barely knew, someone she had been forced into a life with by promises made long before she was born.Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. It was her mother, Lila, followed by her brother, David. Aurora straightened up and walked toward the door, her steps slow and heavy, each one reminding her of the weight of
š¹Damien š¹The days following my confrontation with my father were filled with an oppressive silence. It was as though a rift had opened between us, and no matter how hard I tried to bridge it, nothing would close the gap. I had done everything he asked of me, everything that was expected, but I couldnāt shake the feeling that he had already chosen his side.Victoriaās influence over him was undeniable, and with each passing day, it became clearer that the legacy I had worked so hard to build, the empire that I thought would one day be mine, was slipping further away. It was no longer about business. It had become personal.The weight of that realization settled like a stone in my chest, and no matter how many times I tried to shove it aside, it lingered, suffocating me. The anger, the frustration, it all built up until I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down at a dark abyss. If I fell, I might never be able to climb back out.But the one thing I knew for sure
(Damien's Point of View)The days that followed my confrontation with Victoria felt like an endless barrage of rehearsed smiles and veiled threats. There was a tension in the air at Sterling Estates, something invisible yet heavy that I couldnāt shake. I had tried to maintain the facade of normalcyābusiness as usualābut every glance from Victoria, every calculated word, seemed designed to unsettle me. She was playing a game, and she was far too good at it.I spent hours in my office, the sterile, cold atmosphere providing a semblance of clarity as I reviewed contracts and figures, pretending I wasnāt thinking about her. But the truth was, I couldnāt stop. Every encounter with her left me feeling like I was teetering on the edge of something I couldnāt control, something I wasnāt prepared for.I leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my face. The day had dragged on without any real resolution, and now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the house seemed quieter than usual. The