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Chapter 4: Aftermath and Secrets Revealed

Author: Nnenna
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-13 00:12:05

Aurora sat quietly in the back of Damian’s car as the city lights flickered past, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The weight of the night still clung to her, from the suffocating stares to Damian’s lingering touches that felt far too real.

Damian, seated beside her, scrolled casually through his phone, as if tonight hadn't shaken her to the core.

"Well," he said finally, breaking the silence. "You survived your first night as my fiancée."

Aurora shot him a sharp look. "Barely."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. "You played your role better than I expected. Even Richard Caldwell seemed impressed. That’s no small feat."

"I didn’t do it for you," she muttered, turning her gaze out the window. "I did it because I don’t have a choice."

Damian finally looked at her, a flash of something unreadable in his expression. "We all have choices, Aurora. Don’t kid yourself."

She turned back to him, eyes narrowed. "Is that what you tell yourself when you trap someone into marriage?"

A tense silence fell between them, stretching out until Damian finally let out a sharp breath, rubbing a hand across his jaw.

"This isn’t about trapping you," he said, his voice low. "Believe it or not, I’m not enjoying forcing you into this any more than you are."

Aurora blinked, caught off guard by his sudden honesty.

"Then why?" she asked softly, searching his face. "Why are you doing this? What’s so important that you’d drag me into this mess?"

Damian’s jaw tightened. He stared straight ahead, as if weighing whether to answer.

Damian exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his phone before he finally slipped it into his pocket. The usual smirk that danced on his lips was gone, replaced by something darker.

"You want the truth?" he asked, his voice rough.

Aurora swallowed, her pulse quickening. "Yes."

He leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his dark hair, as though debating whether to open a door he had kept locked for too long.

"This deal—this marriage—it's the only way to secure a merger that will protect my company," he began, his eyes fixed on some distant point outside the window. "There are people gunning for me, Aurora. People who would do anything to watch me fall. If I appear vulnerable, if they sense even a crack in my armor, everything I’ve built will be torn apart."

Aurora frowned, trying to piece together his words. "But why me? Surely you could have picked anyone to play this part."

He turned to her then, his eyes sharp and filled with something that almost looked like pain. "Because you're the only one they wouldn't expect. The woman who hates me. No one would think you'd agree to this unless it was real. And that makes it believable."

Her breath caught. So, it wasn’t just about her father's debt. It was about Damian’s enemies—about power, control, and survival.

"But that still doesn’t explain everything," Aurora whispered. "What aren’t you telling me, Damian?"

He tensed, looking away.

"Some debts," he said slowly, "go deeper than money. And some enemies... won't stop until they destroy you completely."

Aurora studied him, her mind spinning. She could see it now—the cracks in his icy facade, the weight he carried behind his arrogance.

"You think marrying me will stop them?" she asked, her voice softer now.

"It’ll buy me time," Damian admitted. "Time to figure out my next move."

The car rolled to a stop in front of his penthouse, and the driver quickly stepped out to open the door. But neither of them moved.

Aurora turned to Damian, her throat tight. "And when it's over? When you’ve bought your time and saved your empire—what happens to me?"

Damian’s gaze met hers, something flickering in his eyes—regret, maybe, or something else she couldn’t name.

"When it’s over," he said quietly, "you’ll be free. No debts, no ties to me. You’ll get your life back."

A lump formed in her throat, but she forced a nod, reminding herself why she had agreed to this.

"Fine," she whispered. "But don’t expect me to play this game forever. I’ll do what I have to for my father’s sake, but I won’t let you destroy me in the process."

Damian gave a small, humorless smile. "Good. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Aurora."

With that, he stepped out of the car, holding the door for her.

As Aurora climbed out, the cool night air hit her, but it did little to calm her racing heart.

She was in deeper than she had ever imagined, tangled in Damian Blackwell’s dangerous world.

And as she followed him into the penthouse, one thought haunted her.

What would happen if the lines between real and pretend started to blur?

Because as much as she wanted to hate Damian... she wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend she didn’t feel the spark between them.

And judging by the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching, she wasn’t the only one struggling to keep up the act.

As they stepped into the penthouse, the door clicking shut behind them, a heavy silence filled the room. The city skyline glowed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft light over the luxurious space. But neither of them moved to admire it—both too wrapped up in the tension simmering between them.

Aurora slipped off her heels, her hands trembling slightly as she set them by the door. Damian shrugged out of his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair before pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"Want one?" he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No."

Damian took a sip, leaning against the counter as he studied her in that intense way that made her feel both vulnerable and exposed.

"You did good tonight," he said, quieter this time, almost like a truce.

Aurora folded her arms, her back straightening. "Don’t patronize me, Damian. I’m not some pawn in your game."

He smirked, but there was no real amusement behind it. "I never said you were."

She took a few steps toward him, unable to hold back the anger bubbling under the surface. "You’re using me—using my father’s debt—just to save yourself. And you expect me to smile and pretend we’re some happy couple? You don’t think that’s a game?"

Damian’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. "I am using you. But don’t forget, Aurora—you agreed to this. No one forced you into my bed."

Her cheeks flushed at the double meaning of his words, though nothing had happened between them—yet.

"You think I had a choice?" she shot back, her voice rising. "You backed me into a corner!"

He pushed off the counter, closing the distance between them in a few swift strides. "Maybe. But you’re stronger than you think. You wouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t believe you could handle this."

Aurora swallowed hard, tilting her chin up defiantly. "Don’t act like you know me."

Damian stared at her for a long moment, his gaze searching hers. "Maybe I don’t. But I know enough to see you’re not afraid of me—not really."

His words made her pulse thrum wildly.

"I should be," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Damian reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, so at odds with his usual coldness that it sent a shiver through her.

"Yeah," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "Maybe you should."

Aurora's breath caught in her throat. She hated how close he was, how easily he could unnerve her, but what she hated more was how her body betrayed her—leaning in, wanting more.

Before she could say anything else, Damian's hand slid from her cheek down to her jaw, holding her there, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"This thing between us..." he said quietly, his voice rough, "you feel it too, don’t you?"

Aurora’s heart pounded. She wanted to deny it, to push him away and pretend none of this affected her. But the words refused to come.

Instead, she stood frozen, caught between fear and longing.

"Damian..." she breathed, unsure if it was a warning or a plea.

His thumb traced her jaw, and for a moment, it felt like he might close the gap between them and kiss her again—but he didn’t.

Instead, he let out a low curse, pulling back slightly.

"I told myself I wouldn’t cross that line," he said, his voice strained. "This is business. Nothing more."

Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat. "Then maybe you should start acting like it."

Damian let out a sharp laugh, stepping away from her entirely. "Yeah... maybe I should."

Without another word, he downed the rest of his whiskey and walked toward his room, leaving Aurora standing alone in the middle of the penthouse, her heart racing like a drum in her chest.

She wrapped her arms around herself, staring out at the city lights as her mind spun with everything that had just happened.

What was happening between them?

Because if this kept going—if those lines between real and pretend continued to blur—she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

And something told her neither would Damian.

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